once upon a time, I was enjoying a hot chocolate at a favourite cafe in the gaybourhood, a cozy little nook that served hearty food at good prices and was drenched in the sunshine and style of urban queer life. I glanced out the window and, sitting on the other side, at a lopsided table reading a book, was a gorgeous butch with a shaved head and big black boots.
attracted and intrigued, I stewed in my seat for several long moments, wondering what to do. I felt too shy to introduce myself, my gut curling over on itself at the thought. finally, I borrowed a pen and a sheet of paper from a waitress, torn from her order book. on it, I wrote:
I think you’re cute. if you ever want your boots polished sometime, give me a call.
I signed it with a heart and my number.
leaving the cafe, my heart thundering in my ears, I approached her table with trepidation, the note folded over and over in my hand. “this is for you,” I managed to say with a shy smile, handing her the note. she was already grinning.
no sooner had she taken it, then I turned and started to walk away, hardly able to breathe at my boldness. “hey wait,” she called, “don’t run away.”
I turned around, blushing, and there she was, coming towards me, still grinning.
she was in town on holiday from the UK and we had a cute affair while she visited. it was fun and she was sweet – and hot – but what most stands out in my memory is the chance I took, timid though it was, that led to what might otherwise have been no more than a look of longing, and thoughts of regret.
the best advice I can give to young lesbians is to be bold and be brave when it comes to dating and romance. take a chance to put yourself on the line, deal with rejection, take joy in success, and learn from all of it. reach out and make a connection – participate in the adventure of life and love, even when you are scared of being hurt or feeling foolish. you’ll be surprised at how often you’ll yield something to treasure always, like memories that make you smile – and still blush, just a little.