And how was the potluck?
There is a potluck each month…an hour away….I have not made it back there since last September now that I think about it. I do not want to sound like I am haughty but the people who attend seem to be extremely shy, and non-approachable, insecure, and not very welcoming. I do not think they intend to be like this because why would they attend a potluck?
I do attempt to speak to them because I am a social being and like to meet and greet new friends as well as former acquaintances. I usually go to one or the other and introduce myself, ask them who they are, and what they fill do to fill their days and moments. I suppose having been a teacher, this is easier for me to do than the others in the group. So when I attend, I play the facilitator, even though I am not asked to or not much encouraged, either.
Sometimes this is answered with a response, but more often than not, there is no response, just a stare of how could you ask me this? There is such fear in them that I would ask them such a personal question, i.e. their career. Because unlike ordinary, everyday people who readily share what they do with others, the burden of secrecy seems to be heavy upon their shoulders. These individuals have had to hide their self-identity for the greater part of their lifetime, that to suddenly admit to someone that they are a teacher, a nurse, work as clerk, are a bus driver—what ever their occupation—is a threat. So then the potluck becomes an event of an hour instead of gaining friendships for a period of time or a lifetime. There is such fear, that those who arrive remain with the friends they entered the door with. If they come alone, they sit at the table and do not communicate much and as soon as the hour is over, they are to the door and gone for another month.
This leaves me with the question: WHY did I make the drive to the potluck?
I make the drive because I am tired of being alone in my little world.
But then I leave, and I feel more lonely than when I first arrived!
The lesbian world to me is just a microcosm of the real world. Only there are less lesbian women than heterosexual women, so the chance of meeting someone and finding companionship is less.
Somewhere along the journey of my life, I visited a psychiatrist thinking I would gain some insight and understanding. Obviously, I was doing something incredibly wrong. However, my psychiatrist SURPRISED me when she responded with this line: “I thought that since there are so few lesbians, you would all certainly get along!”
At that point, I terminated my association with this declared, very intelligent medical doctor. Obviously, she did not understand that lesbian women are women, human beings, just like everyone else. And, no, just because there are few lesbians, they do not necessarily all get along.
Less this sounds like a self-pity party, I do not blame anyone for my present state of existence. I just must keep trying to relate to others and never give-up.
I can see, however, how and why so many of my sisters in the lesbian world, turn to drugs, alcoholism and end up suicidal and sometimes, some choose that path, because the pain becomes so great. The pain of being alone becomes too much. There are not the social structures to support these individuals in their journey of self. There are few marriages; there are those who are shunned by their families; and, most Christian churches reject these people. Where are the structures of society or rituals to support these women?
I maintain that we are all human beings. We are all part of humanity. We are no less loving than other human beings. I wish that women everywhere would understand how much we all need to help one another and achieve a sense of belonging. It is a matter of life and breath! and I did mean “breath!”