1985

This piece showcases a former guitarist for a popular band reminiscing on her experience as a young lesbian in 1980’s.

I have tried to “fix myself” numerous times in my life. Homosexuality wasn’t exactly seen as a normal thing back then, sure there was the Stonewall riots and the AIDS crisis bringing a new sense of humanity to these people for anyone who had eyes and or even a tiny bit of compassion stored in their hearts for others. I also had a gay uncle that I shared a lot of fond memories with visiting his house after school. But that was never the majority, especially in our neighborhood.

They were always the other, the deviants. Destined to be outcasted by good hard working civilized American’s like ourselves for the rest of our lives. One of them couldn’t possibly be Miriam, couldn’t possibly be me. The last time I tried to fix myself I was 18 and fresh out of my relationship. Since actually being able to love a woman was out of the question. When I had first been propositioned by one of the fans of our band. I had basically said fuck it and went against whatever my gut was warning me about.

It probably didn’t matter anyway. I was gonna be fine, if I could just ignore that nagging feeling in the back of my head perhaps I could maybe even have some fun with this guy. Though I doubt it. I wasn’t attracted to him, I don’t think anyone could’ve been. He wasn’t the type of guy you got with for his looks. He was more of the fun type. He was older, about 35 with this badly cut shaggy hair, stubble and smoke on his breath. We went to his van which was decked out in hippie decor you would’ve never thought he had listened to a single second of Maria y Las Estrellas and yet here I was sitting on some kind of weird tapestry on the floor because I was too weirded out by the dirt on the couch to sit on it.

“So are we gonna get this started or are you just gonna sit there looking stupid?” “Huh?” I blurted out, caught off guard by his voice, sure he had spoken to me as we walked to his van but I hadn’t really been paying attention. My mind often ended up wandering to other things, different better scenarios.

Deep down I knew I didn’t want to do this, I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be home watching a shitty teen movie with Maria, lying in her arms thinking that this moment would last forever, that at any moment when I turned to look at my side I would see her there with me, holding my hand instead of some boy’s.

I craved that ignorance more than anything but I had already gotten here so I might as well finish what I started. ‘I uh um.” I tried to reply. My hope of a sly remark or even a cheesy attempt at flirtatious banter exiting my lips as a stutter to my own chagrin.

It was at this point I think the man also noticed my reluctance as he decided to sit next to me and place a hand on my shoulder as some sort of comforting gesture. “You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I won’t hold it against you. Look I understand you’re young and hot and I’m half your age and also hot.” I chuckle at that last statement, an action he doesn’t appreciate, as I see his face quickly contort into a frown but quickly brushes off. “Listen what I’m getting at is basically I know you probably want some experience or something but this shouldn’t be something you just force yourself into. I don’t want you leaving this van with any regrets now do you hear me doll?”

I look down at my hands. Maybe he’s right, I don’t have to do this right now even though I so desperately need to be fixed. Maybe I could wait a little while, live in bliss for a few years before I am forced to become some man’s wife or even worse mistress.

Maybe being straight could wait a little while. I fiddle with my thumbs the silence permeating in the room for a while before the man quickly gets up to his feet with a huff. “Alright then.” He groans out stretching a bit. “Say how about I get us some beer ok? Lighten the mood a little bit.” I stare at him blankly as he walks out of his van to go buy some beer from the local gas station down the street, leaving me with my thoughts for a little while.

Process

Though there are many stories written about multiple bands, from inspired fiction like Almost Famous to biopics like the many films based on the life of The Beatles, they only focus on one type of band/perspective (white men). In this piece, I wanted to write from a perspective that’s not usually thought about in these types of stories–that of a queer woman.