Dykes Come Out #2

Bonjour, fags!

I've been doing some deep shut up deep for me thinking lately about all sorts of crap, so I was working on a blog post about it.

It was getting a little long.

I read the whole post over just now and realized:  it's boring.

And fuck boring!  Fuck introspective thinking! 

Birds are chirping.
Foals are trying out their wobbly new knees.
Baby lambies are being born.

It is Spring and I want to be happy.

I bet you do, too.

So, in the spirit of delighting ourselves, let's look at something we've never seen before.

Something really amazing:

A happy Coming Out story.

*WOW!*

It's sunny out! It's warm!

We have to have a happy coming out story!

Who's ready for Dykes Come Out #2???

This story comes from D., a clever girl who has the story I know you wish you had.

(As usual, it's edited, with permission, for space/grammar/pictures/and whatever else I felt like doing to it.)

Thanks for Coming Out, D.!

#2

D. says.....

It was 2002, and I was at the tender age of 14.

My crush was a freckly tomboy. 

She played soccer and let me cut her hair into that little pre-dyke chin-length haircut we all had (you know the one) with the scissors from her pocket knife.

She played trumpet and rubbed my shoulders and I thought I would DIE just laying next to her at sleepovers.

We came out to each other as 'bisexual', and eventually admitted that we were into each other.

via hipsterdykes

She hemmed and hawed about dating me because we were, um, in 8th grade and lived in Texas.

To make her jealous I said I was going to date another boy, who I had no interest in, but even at that age I knew it would work.

The next day, in front of our friends, she got on one knee with a fucking pink plastic rose she stole from her mom's fake flower garden and asked me if I would 'go out with her.'

I squealed, we hugged, and by the end of the day, everyone knew.
No one cared, and when my parents figured it out, they were happy for me.

The epilogue is that, as my first girlfriend, we had a lovely time necking in treehouses and shit and are still great friends to this day.

THE END.

Jesus god, I can't believe this story. 

They should make D.'s Coming Out story into a children's book. 

We'll call it Rainbows and Kitties and Bluebirds:  It's Ok To Be Gay. 

We'll get Madonna to ghost-write it. 
Moms will go crazy trying to get signed copies.

What a perfect story, D.! 
Ask your parents if I can come over for dinner, mmkay?