In recent years, something intriguing has been emerging within my circle of friends. Women, who have primarily identified as straight, often divorced and disillusioned by dating men, have begun to reveal: ‘I think I might have an interest in other women.’
Initially, I brushed it off as an isolated remark, a casual comment made after a few drinks, accompanied by a nervous laugh. However, then another friend said it. And then another.
Suddenly it was a full-blown phenomenon.
A woman I know, whom we’ll call Rachel, shared with me that after dating numerous emotionally unavailable men, she thought a woman might at least respond to her texts and possess a tidy apartment.
‘I was sick of the bare-minimum bros,’ she shrugged. ‘And women are just, softer. Nicer. Better in bed. I had nothing to lose.’
Reader, she now has a girlfriend and says she’s never going back. But not every story ends with a rainbow emoji.
Believe me, I know.
Welcome to the era of the ‘late-life lesbian’ – or, as one friend put it, ‘Ditch the d***, try the chick.’
Over the past few years, something curious has started happening in my friend group. Women, apparently straight, mostly divorced and fed up with dating men, have started confessing: ‘I think I might be into other women.’ (Pictured: Jana Hocking).
Don’t get me wrong, sexuality is a deeply personal thing and I’m all for people exploring it. Love who you love! But I couldn’t help but wonder, is this sudden surge of women ‘open’ to dating women a genuine awakening, or is it just the latest dating trend (served with a dollop of performative wokeness)?
The confessions are so predictable. They usually start innocently on a girl’s weekend after a couple of spicy margs and a deeply meaningful conversation about how men are ‘just so disappointing.’
Then, before you know it, someone’s admitting she’s downloaded the lesbian dating app, HER, just to ‘see what it’s like.’
To be fair, I get it. Many women, including me, are looking for a real connection after relentlessly dating the same old men throughout our 30s and 40s.
The Old Lesbian Oral Herstory Project (yes, that’s a real thing) has collected hundreds of stories from women who came out in their 40s, 50s and beyond. Some were married to men for decades before something just… clicked.
Sexuality isn’t always set in stone. There’s even science behind it. University of Utah based psychologist, Lisa Diamond, who’s studied female sexuality for years, says women’s sexual orientation can be more fluid than men’s and is often tied to emotional connection rather than gender.
A lot of women are tired of dating in a landscape forever changed by the omnipresence of apps. We’re burnt out from chasing commitment-shy man-babies and giving 100 percent to someone who won’t even commit to leaving a toothbrush at our house.
Add to that a society that’s (finally!) more accepting of queer identities and you’ve got the perfect conditions for sexual exploration.
I asked my Instagram followers if they’d ever felt drawn to women after years of dating men. The responses were spicy.
One woman revealed: ‘After my divorce, I went on a date with a woman, and it was like breathing for the first time. She actually listened to me. It didn’t last, but it made me question everything.’
Another admitted: ‘I hooked up with my female Pilates instructor on a weekend away. I still don’t think I’m gay. I just think I was I bored, a little bit drunk, and high on the attention from an attractive woman.’
Then there was the brutal honesty of this one: ‘I’m straight, but dating men is soul-destroying. I wish I was into women; it seems so much healthier.’
Same, babe. Same.
But we ‘adventurous’ women must also recognize that some of these ‘experiments’ leave a trail of confusion and broken hearts, especially when one person is in it for real and the other just wants an interesting story for her Instagram followers.
There’s a big difference between discovering you’re gay late in life and dabbling in same-sex dating because it looks cool online.
The truth is we live in a world where sexuality can be repackaged as content. We’ve all seen the girl-on-girl kissing photos at music festivals, the ‘fluid’ bios on dating apps and the thirst traps posted with captions about being ‘open to energy, not gender.’
But when people – especially those who have spent their whole lives battling stigma for being openly gay – start getting used as aesthetic props, it gets dicey. As one lesbian friend of mine put it, ‘We’re not a sexual bucket list item. We’re not here so you can tick off your bi-curiosity on a wine fueled whim.’
A lot of women are tired of dating in a landscape forever changed by the omnipresence of apps. We’re burnt out from chasing commitment-shy man-babies and giving 100 percent to someone who won’t even commit to leaving a toothbrush at our house.
So where do I sit in all this?
I’ll admit I’ve been one of those women that I’m tut-tutting at for leading other woman on.
There was a wild night on a boat with a bisexual friend. A flirtation with a hot girl at an industry party.
And one frustrating (slightly humiliating) experience of trying to kiss a girl, only for her to pause, look me dead in the eye and say, ‘Oh babe… you’re so straight.’ And all I could do was sigh and reply, ‘I know.’
Sexuality isn’t a new handbag you pick up for a season and ditch when it stops being trendy.
If you’re going to explore, do it with care. Be honest about your intentions. And don’t play with someone else’s heart just because yours is a little lost.
Because love is not a phase. And neither is she.
