What it’s like when you’re mistaken for a lesbian.

Admittedly, whilst I am a long term and consistent follower of the heterosexual movement, I can understand the occasional confusion people have regarding my sexuality. I’m quite vocal about the girl crushes I have, which have varied from Fearne Cotton to Beyonce (but with Rihanna being the undefeated champion regarding my affections). Me and my friend have a classic night out pose for photos which involves me grabbing her boobs, and which has now evolved to her groping my bum, and last but not least I’ve planted a smacker on many of my female friend’s lips – the evidence against me is stacking up.

However, whilst I’ll always defend my heterosexuality, being mistaken for a lesbian has been an experience in itself. For example, the reaction from the opposite sex, the only way I can describe it is being similar to the effect of a One Direction song – you know you shouldn’t like it, the targeted audience is not you but at the same time you’re still drawn to it like a fly to the festering faeces of a cow. This is exactly how the male sex are with lesbians, or in my case mistaken lesbians. Perhaps it’s the hopeful (but very distant dream) of an encounter involving three people, or just the sexual openness but the males seem to like lesbians. When I told one male friend I was often being mistaken for a lesbian the reply was ‘’that sounds exciting’’ – I rest my case.

Of course the idea that guys like lesbians isn’t exactly revolutionary, but the effect of my mistaken homosexuality on my female friends was interesting to say the least. Perhaps it was unconscious desires or too much alcohol, but suddenly, my female friends were verging on borderline inappropriate behaviour with me: I was beginning to share my bed with them after nights out, they were dancing inappropriately with me, and there was definitely no hesitation when being dared to kiss (no tongues). I was practically the female equivalent of Hugh Heffner, albeit with rowdy drunken English girls as my bunnies. What turned my once seemingly level headed and straight friends to borderline homosexual predators, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s contagious, when other straight females sense behaviour they always thought inappropriate is becoming, well…..appropriate, they begin to act out all their subconscious desires. However, I think the more likely explanation is simple: copious amounts of alcohol.

Ultimately, if you asked me how much being thought of as a lesbian bothered me, I’d probably tell you ‘’very little’’. Lesbianism is in fashion thanks to Katy Perry going on about kissing a girl and liking it, and since the media is starting to appreciate curvier figures a la Beyonce and Kim Kardashian after the craze of the more boyish frame in the nineties, it seems rather ignorant to not appreciate the female form. I don’t think it makes me anymore of a lesbian than Katie Price having lots of money makes her a feminist role model. So until I begin frequenting gay clubs not for the sole purpose of them having good music, I stand by my claim of being a straight female.

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