Lesbianflix By Lydia Havens


If being a lesbian were anything like Netflix movies
portrayed it to be, My fingers would look like canned prunes
all day, everyday, because of all of the baths I’d take
with my super hot girlfriend while we talked about
the meaning of life. I would drink so much coffee
at different cafes with this super hot girlfriend,
I’d be going to the bathroom doing you-know-what
at least 10 times a day. I’d also never sleep.
I’d also know the meaning of life.

If being a lesbian were anything like Netflix movies
portrayed it to be, sweet-as-toothaches
music would always play in the background:
a folk song about getting wasted
while I drink pink wine with  my super hot girlfriend.
A folk song about being in love, love, love
while I walk in the pouring rain with my super hot
girlfriend. A Smiths song while I slow dance in my
goddamn living room with my super hot girlfriend.
There would be a song for every small task,
as long as there was another girl in the picture.

Because if being a lesbian
were anything like Netflix movies portrayed it to be,
the audience would not blink or shudder when
my super hot girlfriend turns out to be the manipulative
lady-killer type, just like all the other super hot girlfriends on the screen.
They wouldn’t call her that to her face—and they’d
tell me she’s just “protective” and “too head over heels
in love with me”. My traumatic childhood, which
I have been trying to keep between us throughout
the entire film, would be treated like another
laughable trope. Everyone would act like my time
in the LGBTQIA community is nothing more
than a phase. Nothing more than something
for straight men to rub their hands all over.

Near the end of the film, when I admit on camera
that I have depression, it will not be a surprise.
After all, aren’t all of these lesbians supposed to
be sad? All of our stories look the same in Hollywood’s
near-sighted eyes. We are all the same mouth,
begging as though we have not been fed
properly. We are begging for acceptance,
begging for a good, healthy love story,
because sometimes, these films are
just too realistic.

When one out of three lesbian or gay
relationships is abusive in some way,
you begin to believe it will happen
to you. When you read about another
murder or suicide within your community,
you will begin to believe it will happen
to you. When your sexuality is seen as
“sexy” and not “human”, you begin
to believe you are a walking sin. When
every movie tries to teach you that
when you find the so-called perfect girl,
you will end up another dead lesbian,
you begin to believe all of them.

By Lydia Havens


Lydia Havens writes and lives in Tucson, Arizona. A part of the literary non-profit Spoken Futures, her work has previously been published in Drunk in a Midnight Choir, Words Dance, and Textploit, among other places. In March 2015, she was named the Women of the World Poetry Slam Youth Champion. You can find more of her work on Tumblr, southwestwitch.tumblr.com, or on her website, lydiahavens.weebly.com.

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