This week, a lesbian who lives with her partner explores her attraction to men: 27, in a relationship, NYC
DAY ONE
7 a.m. Wake to my blaring alarm and cat, Lemon, meowing loudly. My partner, Remy, is sleeping soundly beside me. Another workday in publishing beckons.
8 a.m. Get ready in under 20 minutes. Still miss the train. While I wait for the next train, I respond to Feeld messages: bald guy with tattoos, bald guy with one tattoo, hot 30-something from Greece coming to NYC next month, a few kink-forward “heteroflexible” couples.
11:30 a.m. Work moves fast, surprisingly. My first few months in the industry haven’t been what I’d hoped. I often ask myself if my passion is enough. Unfortunately, it’s one of many things I question these days.
1 p.m. Lunch on my office roof, listening to an audiobook about signs from the universe. Remy calls. They want advice about a conversation they need to have with their situationship tonight.
Remy and I are a COVID Tinder couple going on six years. We opened our relationship a few months ago to explore and figure out what we want out of life as individuals. Casual sex was the original goal, but we realized that we both value emotional connections more, so now we can also see one other person for regular dates.
5:15 p.m. Text my friend Paloma to make plans. She says, “I can’t wait to hear about your lesbionic summer!” I just sigh. For the last four years, I’ve been rooted in my lesbian identity, but recently, I’m reconciling my attraction to men. Before I came out, the men I chose felt like self-sabotage. Then I found queer clarity at the ripe age of 21. The water has been murky for the last few years, though, if I’m honest.
“Haha more like a biconic summer … i’ll fill you in next week,” I respond.
6 p.m. Home. Remy’s on a call. They work fully remotely, and I envy it, even though I chose to leave a remote job for my hybrid one.
7 p.m. We scarf pasta and Trader Joe’s meatballs before Remy leaves. I kiss them and wish them luck with their conversation. Looking forward to an evening alone.
