Work Text:
The road before her stretched out endlessly, the sun reflected on the still wet surface, and the white clouds chased through the now blue sky. Sarah hummed cheerfully along to her 90s playlist; the uplifting songs matched her mood. She was looking forward to spending the weekend with her youngest and his boyfriend. Ever since Nick had started uni in Leeds he had been so happy and thriving. He truly had felt home from the first day on and that feeling only had intensified when Charlie also had made his way to Leeds a year later. During their Facetime calls Nick had talked enthusiastically about the rugby team he joined immediately, the LGBTQIA+ society, and their discoveries in and around the city. A wholesome glow warmed her. She wouldn’t be surprised if they would stay there after getting their degrees.
Of course she had visited before, but this time the boys had planned an entire day for her in Leeds for her birthday. Positively overwhelmed by the heartwarming present, she immediately had booked a cosy Airbnb near the student housing complex. Sarah had been counting down the days drawing a tiny star on the calendar each day.
She checked the route and was glad the trip was not more than 45 minutes.
As she took a left turn and the navigation stated she had reached her destination, Sarah saw Nick and Charlie already waiting in front of the apartment. Nick was practically bouncing up and down on the pavement and opened the car door as soon as she turned off the engine. He surely has the demeanour of a golden retriever pup, still so, even if he is in his twenties. She was embraced in a bear hug straight away and her heart grew just a tad bigger.
After the greetings, the catching up, the inspection of the Airbnb, and getting unpacked, Sarah was ordered to take a seat and was handed a cup of tea so Nick and Charlie could prepare lunch. Nick got container after container out of his backpack, and Sarah closed her eyes for a second, smelling all the delicious flavours encircling her. Then she watched her son and his boyfriend totally in sync in the kitchen. She didn’t think she’d ever had something like that with Stéphane; if she was honest, she never had been able to fully surrender to their love. She shook her head to throw off all negative images. Today was a day to focus on the glimmers of life.
Sarah was savouring a delightful muffin as Nick conjured up six envelopes.
“Here mum,” He looked at Charlie for a moment and winked at him, “you have to choose three out of six to determine what we’re going to do this afternoon, for dinner, and this evening.”
Surprised, Sarah examined the envelopes and without hesitation she picked three and handed them to her son. Nick eagerly opened them and Sarah smiled seeing her son beaming.
“We start at Leeds Art Gallery, dinner at Dastaan…” Nick’s grin grew wider as he saw the last card. “Charlie, she took your option!”
Charlie giggled and buried his face in the crook of Nick’s neck. Sarah frowned and glanced at them.
“So?”
“We are going to Redacted, a queer laid back pub. It’s pretty nerdy with boardgames, a reading corner, and some karaoke on Friday night. We go there often with Isaac and love it. Are you up for that or would you rather change?”
Sarah got up, hugged her son, and kissed his freckled, blushing cheek. “I really like it that you want to share places with me that make you feel at home. I’d love to go there.”
Actually, Sarah was looking forward to it, more than she showed the boys. She had read up on queer life after Nick had come out and was surprised by so many things she never knew existed that she was excited to experience some of queer culture herself.
*************
After a lovely afternoon and dinner filled with joy and laughter, Sarah and the boys found themselves in front of Redacted. The blue and black façade was lit with rainbow leds and there were smileys in all possible queer flags painted around the entrance. Sarah recognised several but also noticed quite a few she had never seen before. She took a pic, made a mental note to investigate back home, and followed Nick in.
The place looked cozy, with tables lit with colourful pendant lights. One wall was covered with shelves filled with boardgames. At the bar were two men, both in leather shorts, one was wearing a tight shirt, the other a sheer vest covered with a leather harness. Nick gave them a quick peck and Sarah saw one of them giving Nick’s biceps a squeeze. Sarah smirked as she saw her son flex on purpose. It was clear Nick and Charlie were regulars here. At the head of the bar was a person in full drag; she looked amazing. Charlie was giving her a hug when she noticed Sarah.
“Oh my god, Charlie.” She winked at Sarah, who instantly felt herself turn red. “Who is the cutie you brought with you? Given the blush, they must be related to Nick.”
Charlie giggled and introduced Sarah. “Spot on. This is Sarah, Nick’s mum.”
Sarah shook the hand reaching out to her; a warm glow transferred from the woman, radiating confidence and kindness, and was told her that her name was Patty Urone – Patty for short. After some chit chat, Nick came over with drinks.
“Would you like to sit at a table, mum? And maybe play a game later?”
Sarah concluded the conversation and joined Nick and Charlie at a table situated so that she could see the entire place. She looked around and took everything in; something settled, a sense of peace nestled in her body and mind.
There were only a few patrons, a group of six highly invested in, what seemed, a complicated game with all kinds of cards, miniature people, and other items. Opposite was a party of three, talking and laughing; they had a friendly vibe hanging around them. And in the reading corner a single soul was curled up on a sofa reading on their phone. Sarah shifted her focus on Nick and Charlie. They had picked Skipbo from the games’ shelves knowing they all liked it and they could chat whilst playing.
The game long forgotten, the three of them were talking about the classes Nick and Charlie were enjoying when Sarah was startled by a deep, calm voice that piqued her interest. As she glanced up, her heart involuntarily skipped a beat; the woman who had been sitting at the table of three was now standing next to their table, and not only her voice was entrancing, the woman was gorgeous. She must have been around Sarah’s age, maybe a tad younger. Her little black skirt accentuated her long, lean, muscular legs covered in net tights; the T-shirt with the boat neck dangled from one shoulder and her hair was a short pixie cut, but the most striking were her honey brown eyes that seemed to pierce right into her soul.
“Hi, would any of you be up for a game of Codename Pictures? That way we can have two teams.”
Before Sarah could think about it, Nick already reacted, “Mum, you love Codenames Pictures. Go play!”
Sarah was reluctant, but Nick and Charlie insisted and told her they would join and cheer them on. Well, Sarah thought, nothing wrong with getting to know new people, especially ones looking like that.
The woman stretched out her hand and introduced herself, “I’m Terry.” A little jolt travelled up Sarah’s arm. What was happening here? She frowned, her brows confused about the signals her body was sending her; it had been a long, long time since she had felt these little nudges and tingles, but the buzz of alcohol in her veins made her brain carefree and Sarah just let it all float as tiny bubbles; contained yet visible, ready to be popped if she wanted to. Tonight was not the night though.
After the introductions Terry insisted on being on Sarah’s team. “I found her, so she’s with me,” she informed the other two. Sarah snickered, and even though she loved to be on her team, she still felt the need to issue a retort.
“No ‘let the guest choose’? Hmm, fine, I see how it is.” With that she winked at Terry whose face turned an adorable shade of pink. She took the seat opposite and had a hard time taking her eyes off the radiant beauty.
It was as if they had played together for years; within a couple of rounds they sensed each other perfectly and even the weirdest combinations or descriptions were guessed on a whim. They were hauled out of their winner's stupor when Nick and Charlie came over with drinks. From there on, the game organically flowed into a lovely conversation filled with sharing stories, bantering, and a lot of accidental touches; which only intensified as Terry shoved her chair next to Sarah’s when she came back from the toilet. Their hands couldn’t stay away from each other. Little nudges, words emphasised with hands laid down on forearms, on other hands, and Terry even left her hand on Sarah’s thigh as she was telling about her job as an organiser of lectures on art and philosophy. The pulsing heat spreading from there to the rest of her body made her glow with anticipation, even though she hadn’t got the foggiest idea what it was foreboding, and frankly she couldn’t care, she was just relishing in the moment.
“I love Leeds, and I still think about moving here, but Gillingham is my home base and I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world. So I just try to do a lot of seminars in this area, to have a good reason to travel up here.”
Slowly the words landed, but Sarah’s mind had problems acknowledging the information provided by the woman whose thumb was now gently stroking her leg.
“Wait… you’re from Kent? I live in Rochester. We should meet up when we’re both back. I’d love getting to know you more and continuing this conversation after this evening.” Nick and Charlie glanced at her meaningfully, but Sarah decided to just shrug; she took her phone out of her purse and handed it over to Terry, a new contact open. Even if she didn’t drink much, the alcohol made her unbothered and she really wanted to see Terry again.
“Look at you making new friends,” Nick said with the most sincere and sweet smile.
A blush covered her face and she smiled back. “Thank you for this amazing evening, Nicky, dear.”
Not much later they decided to call it a night and Terry got up to say goodbye. It was only now that Sarah noticed she was as tall as Nick. Sarah doubted for a moment if this was going to be the right thing to do after just one evening of chatting, but she pushed the thought aside and stood to hug Terry. She immediately felt Terry’s arms encircling her shoulders and back and her whole body hummed.
“Thanks, it was wonderful meeting you and I hope we can repeat it soon closer to home,” Terry whispered in her ear and the vibrations from the lightest touch of her lip against Sarah’s ear made the hairs on her entire body stand up right. A fleeting thought lightened up for a hundredth of a second, Am I even straight?
Sarah and the boys took an Uber back to the Airbnb where they hugged and she watched Nick and Charlie walking away intimately entwined, before she entered the building.
She hung her coat and took her phone out of her purse to put it on the charger; a notification flashed. She thumbed it open and gasped as she saw the message.
Terry🩷🤍💜🖤💙:I had a lovely evening, with amazing people, especially one. Really hope we can meet again back home.😊
Sarah’s heart almost pounded out of her chest. She took a deep breath to recompose herself and then typed a message back with quivering hands and a flirtatious heart.
Sarah🐕: You read my mind. I’d say sooner rather than later.
She considered ending it with a heart emoji or an “x”, but she decided against it and just hit the send button. Sarah kept on staring with nothing less than heart eyes at the text. Terry had a lot of hearts behind her name. Didn’t all those hearts have different meanings, like friendship or love? Mellie, her niece, always sent a blue and white one. Terry also had those colours. What had Mellie said about them? Something about close family bonds and affinity. I should ask her at the next family meeting, Sarah thought before getting ready for bed and dreaming all the wishful dreams.
The sun was shining brightly into the room when Sarah woke up. She had forgotten to close the curtains, but she loved waking up like this. She stretched and yawned, meanwhile picking up her phone to check the time; Nick and Charlie would be here at half ten to have breakfast together before she drove home again. She almost dropped the phone when above the time she saw a single notification.
Terry🩷🤍💜🖤💙: With a cutie like you, no date is soon enough.
Sarah felt herself turn beet red and read all three texts back; the alcohol definitely had lowered her inhibitions. That was pretty bold of her; a lot bolder than she would usually feel comfortable with. And apparently Terry was equally bold enough to ask her on a date. Was that what she wanted, was that her? There was a lot to break down first. Sarah seemed to have started something and for some reason she felt there was no way back, by urge and choice. So forth it was, albeit on her pace.
Sarah🐕: I was serious about wanting to get to know you better and meeting you soon. You are an amazing person. Calling it a date is a lot though. Can we just have a nice cuppa together?
Terry🩷🤍💜🖤💙: Of course, no expectation except two souls clicking and connecting. Enjoy your morning with the boys.
Sarah closed her phone and got up. Her mind was playing over and over what happened the night before and how it made her feel things; new, renewed. She had no idea how to identify it, but it felt good, right, and true.
Then the doorbell rang and Nick and Charlie stood there with coffee and pastry. She surely wasn’t ready to broach the subject, so she focused on them and pretended to be hungover when her brain wandered.
After the meal she thanked them both for the wonderful weekend. And they said their goodbyes.
Her mind started to reel the moment she started her car and tried to make sense of the foreign physical reactions she had to this woman. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say she was attracted to her, but that couldn’t be, right? Was this what she had felt when she had met Stéphane, when he had courted her with all his overwhelming attention? She didn’t know for sure anymore, but somehow this was different, deeper, more real. The implications of that train of thoughts scared her, but she had chosen to walk forward, leaning into the changes, the discoveries, whether the road would be rocky or smooth. Sarah was musing back and forth until one big truth was screaming in her head: “Yes, I am definitely crushing on that woman.” Something settled inside and simultaneously so much space opened up.
Sarah turned up the volume of the radio and smiled, she had over four hours to start to unpack this.
One by one she pierced the stored bubbles from the night before and analysed the information, linking it, drawing conclusions, filing bits and pieces. But with every bubble there seemed to emerge more of them soaring in her line of attention, some being stored for years, not even translucent, but apt to be popped. Others were already merging, bouncing cheerfully to let their content overflow her thoughts.
As Sarah roamed her memory, her heart raced, and she realised she might have missed a lot of signals over the years that pointed in the direction of her being queer. As more and more cells seeped, more and more puzzle pieces seemed to finally fall in place. She had read about people finding they were under the rainbow later in life, but she had never imagined that could be her.
There was a different coming home than ever before and Sarah relished it as she took the suitcase out of the car and entered the house. The place was brighter and warmer than ever before, like her mind had redecorated it, changed the patterns and colour schemes, shifted the light.
Clothes were hung and Sarah sat on the bed. Next to her were several diaries that she had dug up from the boxes deep in the back of her closet. She was an avid journaler back in the days and she was wondering if there would be any indications about her queerness in the diaries. She started with the one from when she was 15; that was around the time her sexual feelings had started to blossom, so that seemed like a good onset.
Two hours and a lot of diaries later, Sarah was gazing into the bedroom that was slowly getting darker as the evening was falling. It has always been girls . How had she never seen it? The evidence was shouting at her from the pages; ample descriptions of her bestie and the way she had looked every day, emphasising her glowing skin, the lights in her eyes, the way she had felt whilst hugging, which weren’t very chaste feelings in hindsight. Pages about the student teacher in uni and the way Sarah had tried to circle in her orbit; in her memory it was because she was incredibly smart, but the words being scribbled every night showed quite another attraction. There was a list of celebrities she had wanted to meet: all women.
But how about Stéphane? That was real, right? She found the diary from the time they had met and read it from front to back. As she closed the little notebook tears were streaming down her cheeks. Stéphane had been there at the right time and at the right place; the moment Clara, her closest and dearest friend, had got into a serious relationship with the man she was still married to. She had read back her pain, the heartbreak, the feeling of losing and being lost, Sarah relived a break-up from a relationship that never had passed the platonic phase, and it all came back to her now, crashing like a tidal wave.
Stéphane being aloof, not supporting the boys emotionally, taking her for granted, and cheating, that was on him, but the way she had never fully surrendered to their love, both mentally and physically, always drawn to female friends for support, that was on her, and she started to see why. This was not what she had expected to find along the way.
This was enough for today. Euphoria and gutted feelings were tumbling all over and Sarah acknowledged Rome wasn’t built in a day either, so she got up, with a deep sigh, stored all the diaries on her dressing table, and went down to get some comfort food and a cup of tea.
The next week Sarah searched her soul and the internet, taking quizzes like “Am I a Lesbian” – 82% apparently –, and read blogs about people finding out they were queer later in life, took more quizzes, and watched videos with older queers. In the end she couldn’t ignore what was laid out before her: she was a lesbian. But what did that leave her with? Did she want a relationship with a woman? Did she want to kiss a woman at least once? Was she going to tell others? What if she found out she was wrong? It was Friday night and Sarah wanted to call somebody, talk things through, let it out. She was scrolling through her contacts to see who could possibly qualify as a text came in.
Terry🩷🤍💜🖤💙: Hi! I’m back home, up for that cuppa tomorrow?
A feeling of relief washed over her. Terry was queer, open, and warmhearted. She tried to ignore adding “so hot” to the list.
Sarah🐕: I’d love to. How about 11 at Maggie’s? You know that place?
Terry🩷🤍💜🖤💙: I do! Count me in. See you tomorrow.
Sarah hearted the text and some weight was lifted off her shoulders by the appointment alone.
Even though Sarah was nowhere near ready to date, the crush she had on Terry was very real and she was jittery all evening and slept poorly; the zings travelled up and down every time she thought of her and the upcoming not-date.
The coffee shop where they’d agreed on meeting was a cozy little place, filled with plants and beautiful paintings by local artists. It was one of Sarah’s favourite places and she came here often to read. She took her usual spot at a little round table near the window and glanced outside waiting for Terry. She almost combusted when she saw her crossing the street; a black flared pair of jeans, a band shirt above it, and an open crocheted black cardigan over it. Not a date, Sarah, remember.
Terry came in and they hugged each other which felt like an automatism. Terry didn’t sit down opposite but pulled a chair next to Sarah who could swear she felt Terry’s body heat radiating and it left her breathless.
It was as they had been friends for years, they shared stories, laughed a lot, and bonded over reading, art, sappy series, and good food. And they were both handsy. There wasn’t a second where they weren’t touching, the electric currents flowing freely. When tea shifted to lunch and the conversation grew a bit more quiet, Sarah gathered all her courage and closed her eyes for a second.
“Can I share something? I found out some things about myself.”
Terry’s eyebrows shot up and a warm smile emerged as she gave Sarah a nod.
“Sure, dear. Please do.”
Sarah fiddled with her hands and folded them around her tea cup as a grip; the nerves coursed through her veins. “I think I’m attracted to women. I’m definitely not as straight as I thought I was.”
Terry folded her hands over Sarah’s. “I’m so proud of you. Thank you for telling me.”
Through their entwined hands Sarah felt herself grounded again, her roots being solidified into new soil.
Openhearted conversations, giving Sarah the room to share, discover, and learn, filled the rest of the afternoon. Terry told her how liberating living your true self was and asked questions, which made Sarah feel seen and she was given room to explore more of who she was. Sarah expressed that she didn’t want the whole afternoon to be about her, but Terry shushed her and, with a wink, said that the next one could be about her. The innuendo roused thrills in her chest, and every little touch only made them grow more.
When they finally stepped out of the coffee shop dusk had already fallen. Terry opened her arms and Sarah melted into her embrace, which took a lot longer than her usual hugs – and she was a devoted hugger – and when they parted Terry gave Sarah a soft kiss on her cheek. The tingling feeling bearing the memories of the kiss stayed with her until she drifted off to sleep that night to Terry-infused dreams.
Over the next two weeks their contact only expanded; between work and contemplating her queerness, Sarah’s days were packed with cute, enticing, and flirty texts between her and Terry, and almost every day there would also be a facetime call, often even two. Sarah was falling hard and she loved the feeling and lavished in it, until Terry invited her over for dinner. This was going to be the real deal, right? Did Terry expect something from her? Was she even ready to take the wordy flirting to action? Were all these feelings legitimate, true? Sarah’s stomach had turned into a big unmovable lump and threatened to take over her entire body the following days; she had hardly been eating and the anticipation and expectations were screaming loudly, echoing in her brain.
After getting changed at least seven times, Sarah was looking in the mirror and agreed with what she saw. She was wearing a long, flowy, celestial dress with little white dots and white laced boots underneath. She turned in front of the mirror trying to assess every side: her boobs looked nice and not too flaunted, her middle aged tummy was covered nicely and her bum was perfectly accentuated. Sarah couldn’t believe she was trying to woo somebody at her age, jitters ping ponging up and down her frame; the same she had read about in her diaries.
With a bouquet of daisies and a box of homemade biscuits, Sarah rang the doorbell with trembling hands. The door flew open and Sarah’s breath was taken, hot waves overflowing her. Terry looked stunning, she was wearing red, straight jeans and a black vest. Sinful thoughts swirled her brain, surprising her with the force at which they arrived.
“Come in gorgeous. Dinner is almost ready. I’ll make you a nice mocktail to start with.”
Sarah nearly forgot to hand her the flowers and biscuits, overwhelmed, not knowing she could contain so many feelings at once.
Whilst Terry was putting the finishing touches on the meal, Sarah took a peek around; light walls and furniture, some colourful paintings on the wall, and a big bookcase filled to the brim. Next to the books there were a couple of pictures on the shelves of Terry, of people who Sarah assumed were her parents, and probably some of her brother given that they were so much alike. She noticed that the pillows on the sofa had the same colours as the hearts behind Terry’s name. The beeping of the oven made her turn her attention to her crush.
The table setting mirrored the one from the coffee shop, so they sat close. Sarah imagined feeding Terry little bites, but didn’t have the guts to actually do so accordingly. She was telling her about a lecture she had organised about female artists and their importance in modern history; Sarah wanted to listen to her talk forever, her warm voice melted her heart. She couldn’t recall what she had eaten, but she could write an essay about the gorgeous orbs, the beautifully curved and plump lips, and the dark, thick eyebrows.
The conversation moved to the sofa and they slid closer and closer. Fingers searching each other, thighs, shoulders, hips brushing and touching gently; Terry’s woody and musky fragrance dazzling her. Sarah closed her eyes and focussed on all her senses, which were fully on. Was she ready to kiss, to be kissed, to step on that train? Maybe next time, rather one extra stop before she would get on board altogether.
“Ter, I’m going home, dear. I had the most amazing time with you and I’d be more than happy to repeat it, but I’m going to call it a night now.”
“Ter?”
Sarah bowed her head covering her beet red, glowing face with her hands. Terry tenderly got them off and tilted her chin upwards until their eyes met.
“I like it, it’s cute.”
They stared into each other’s souls and Sarah’s was set on fire. She merely registered the question being asked, “Can I kiss you?”
Apparently the operator skipped the extra stop. Sarah’s mind went blank and she just gave in to being in the moment with a tiny nod. Soft lips barely connected, retreated for a second, a thumb stroking her cheekbone, a hand at the nape of her neck, the lips back on hers, more urgent and deeper. Sarah both melted and rose, bursted and caved in; she wanted more, needed more. And Terry gave it to her, softly probing with the tip of her tongue to seek permission. That's where they found each other once more, and Sarah felt whole.
When they finally parted, panting and disheveled, Sarah glanced at Terry and bit her lip. With a giggle she whispered, “I think this is all the proof I needed for me being queer.”
Terry laughed loudly and took her in her arms, before planting a warm kiss on her forehead. After quietly sitting together like that for a while, Terry leaned back a bit. “I’m following your lead. How do you want this evening to end?”
It took Sarah a second to realise which offer was on the table, but she knew one thing for sure: she was not ready for that at all. “I love this, but I think it’s too soon for a sleepover now.”
Terry smiled at her, took her hands, and kissed both. “I agree, lovely.” Relief washed over Sarah.
It took some time and hot, steaming kisses, before Sarah finally made it to the car. She watched Terry waving at her as she drove off, a big smile plastered on her face. This was really happening.
Before going to sleep, Sarah shot Terry two texts.
Sarah🐕: Thank you! For more than I can tell you.🥰
Sarah🐕: Tell me if I’m going too fast, but would you like to come over to me on Saturday for a homemade high tea?
Terry🩷🤍💜🖤💙: Fast? Not at all. Love some uhauling.
Sarah🐕: Uhauling?
Terry🩷🤍💜🖤💙: My sweet baby lesbian.😍I’ll explain Saturday.
Sarah decided she didn’t need to know everything immediately, so she just rocked herself to sleep to the sweet memories of that evening.
***********
The counter was crammed with sandwiches, scones, muffins, and a strawberry cake. Sarah giggled, she probably could have four or five high teas with the amounts of food she had made, but now that she had chosen this new life, she wanted everything to be as perfect as possible within it.
When the doorbell rang, surges of apprehension washed over her. In the texts Sarah had no qualms about her feelings and it seemed they were reciprocated but what would it be like seeing her again in the flesh? She hoped at least the making out session would be repeated.
She swung open the door and her jaw dropped. Her mind was reeling full speed; this was Terry, right? She recognised the open gaze, the gorgeous eyes, the mouth that had kissed her so passionately, but the light stubble, the hair parted down the side, the black cargo pants with combat boots beneath them, the checkered shirt. It was like the brother from the pictures was standing in front of her.
“Terry?”
“Yes, lovely. Oh shit, should I have said that I was flowing towards a more masculine phase? It’s just something that is so organic to me, I hardly even notice it myself anymore.”
Wait, what!? Sarah was trying to make sense of what was said to her, without making Terry feel like she had dropped a bomb. The deep frown on her face must have betrayed her though, because Terry cautiously stepped forward and barely touched her arm.
“Can we go in? I think we have a lot to talk about, but I’d rather do that inside than out on the street.”
“Uh… yes… of course… uh… sorry… come in… sorry…”
“You have nothing to be sorry about, but I’m afraid we both dove into this relationship with a lot of assumptions.”
They sat down on the kitchen table; Sarah on the long side and Terry on the short one, as per usual. Sarah felt shattered and had no idea where to start, she had missed something big that Terry evidently thought she – or he, maybe they – had made clear. How could she have done them so wrong? Tears pricked in her eyes and a dark, heavy cloud filled her body.
“Okay, Sarah, look at me. You know I’m genderfluid, right?”
Sarah glanced up with an uncomprehending look in her eyes. Genderfluid? She had read about it some time ago, but not more than a few lines, and it hadn’t piqued her interest. How should she have known that? A crushing weight pushed her down.
“I’m sorry! I don’t. I’m so stupid. But I really don’t know what I’ve missed. I’m so, so sorry.” The tears were flowing now and she couldn’t stop them.
Terry didn’t seem angry but the consternation was radiating from them. “I put hearts in the colours of the genderfluid flag behind my name in your phone, the pillows on my sofa have the same colours and there are pictures of me more feminine and more masculine on the bookshelves. I saw you looking at them.”
Sarah had messed up big time. She was devastated about how ignorant she had been and how much she must be hurting Terry. “I don’t know how I can make this right. I’m so sorry. I should have known better, I’m so dumb.”
Terry got up and crouched next to Sarah. Their hand on her leg. “You’re not. I should have checked; it’s just almost every person in my life is queer. But it was wrong of me to assume that, just because you have a bi son and a gay son-in-law, you know everything about the rainbow.” Those amber eyes were soft and wore no judgement. “But this is me, and as I told you, nothing has been more freeing than being able to live like my true self.”
Sarah’s body had turned to Terry; her heart skipped a beat. “I’m so glad you can be you. Discovering these new parts of myself is nothing but cathartic and I have never felt more whole, so I get it. And you are an important part of that journey.” She stopped talking, trying to gather her thoughts and voice them in a slightly coherent way. Between the emotions so many questions were swirling around.
“I don’t want to sound insensitive, but I hardly know anything about genderfluidity. What is it to you? Are you both male and female? Can I even ask this?”
Terry sat back on the chair, and leaned their forearms on the table. “You can, of course you can. Where do I start? Male never fit me fully even though I’m assigned male at birth. Sometimes it is me. I want to dress more masculine, enjoy what society perceives as manly. But there are also times I like dresses, feeling female. You got to know me like that. During my teens, people saw me as effeminate and presumed I was gay. I also liked men, so I figured that could be me. Until I met a transwoman in my late twenties and I thought that could also be me. I started to only dress feminine and was thinking about transitioning, but a solo trip through Europe during which my male side was more prominent, made me realise that was not my road. I decided to just dress like I felt, act accordingly; not on what was expected from me. It makes me really happy, although society has a hard time accepting seeing me as both; even some queer friends find it difficult. Then, almost eight years ago, I read an article about being genderfluid and finally the last puzzle piece fell into place; I found a word that was me. It was like entering my home for the first time again.”
Sarah’s head spun a bit with all the new information given to her. The last thing resonated deeply with Sarah, finding words definitely made the chaos more quiet.
Terry continued: “But I don’t think my journey ever ends. Recently I've been reading a lot about gender and it being a construct. For now I want to use he or she, but I find it a really interesting concept.”
“Thank you for sharing, for trusting me with this. I do think I need to chew on it a bit. I just came to terms with me falling for girls since forever without knowing and being queer. Not to mention the fact I also have a huge crush.” A heat crept over her face. One thought needed to be addressed, though. “Does that mean you go by he/him now?”
Terry nodded. “I don’t mind if you use she/her, but at the moment I feel more comfortable with he/him.”
They sat next to each other in silence both wrapped up in their own mind and process. After a while Terry got up. “Listen, dear. I think it’s best for me to let you ponder on all this. Know that I’m not going anywhere, feel free to text, to call, my feelings haven’t changed, and you are not going to lose a friend whatever you decide. Take all the time and space you need.”
“You don’t have to go,” Sarah started.
“Yes, I do.” He gave her a kiss on her cheek, that, yet again, made her deeply glow instantly. It was so confusing.
Over the next week they kept on texting, albeit a lot less than before and they were mainly silly memes or gifs. Yet, every time her phone pinged, Sarah’s whole body cheered. She was trying to navigate her feelings, had read a lot about genderfluidity, and had a hard time defining what she and Terry had together. It was a lot, so she got back to herself; if she was honest and sincere about who she was, finding out who she was in relationship to Terry should be easier.
It had always been girls, right? It was in her diaries, in her memories, and her crush on Terry being more female confirmed it. Was she ready to get into a relationship now with someone who wasn’t that all of the time? She needed to be true to herself and not wedge things into the mix that would make it messier and would probably hurt both of them in the end; not following up on this relationship was the best for now. She really hoped they could maintain the friendship Terry had offered her; Terry was the warm guidance she wished for travelling this new road.
Sleep didn’t come quickly that night or any of the following ones. Sarah kept tossing and turning, her mind tumbling over and over, shaking all the feelings and thoughts into spirals. The days had some distractions in the form of work and friends, but just below the surface was Terry all the time. The daily texts pulled him on top however hard she tried to suppress it.
At the end of the week she finally slipped into a deep sleep pretty early, but in the middle of the night she woke up hot and bothered, her breathing fast and shallow; the arousal was undeniable. She reached under the duvet and got back to the dream where she did stay at Terry’s and had a more than great time. It was the prelude to more nightly wake-ups that concentrated around Terry. She hadn’t seen Terry anymore, but their connection over text was warm and sincere and was only further fanning the crush, even though she had decided friendship was the best option.
One night Sarah didn’t fully wake up and drifted in a lucid zone; the images were slightly blurred, but the sensations of the dream still very lively. She focused on the warm kisses that launched at her left ankle and were slowly moving up; they left a blazing trail, heightened by nibbles and tiny bites. Her whole body trembled as she felt stubble brushing the soft groin.
Her eyes flew open and she was immediately wide awake; completely flustered by her dream version of Terry as a man . The feeling of the stubble still imprinted in her flesh even if it was only the result of her imagination, the lust was very real, as were her feelings for Terry; all of Terry. She stayed awake, reflecting and trying to get on terms with the way her path seemed to have taken yet another turn. When dawn cracked through the window she knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t going away. But was she ready to take a leap?
Several scenarios played in the back of Sarah’s head for days, but no matter how she turned it, the only outlines making her happy were the ones where Terry was her partner. After another night of sleeping poorly, waiting for the dreams to take over, she decided to be courageous, this was not something that she could or wanted to run away from any longer.
Sarah🐕: Have been thinking a lot, especially about you. Would you like to talk about it on a date? X
She kept on checking her phone every few minutes, but no answer came in. The butterflies in her stomach were so wild they almost made her nauseous. After an hour Sarah couldn’t take it any longer. This was not a thing that should be handled over text anyway. She needed to address this personally, so she got in the car and drove to Terry. The rain came pouring down as if the deluge had begun.
The parking places were packed and Sarah had a hard time finding one. In the end she found a tiny spot at the end of the street. Before she could lock the car, she was already drenched; she started running. She was panting as she rang the doorbell; the door opened and Terry was standing there in his gown, obviously just awake. Her heart raced, the butterflies were causing a hurricane, and she almost reverberated inside out.
“Sorry, I didn’t wait for you to text me back. I just wanted to talk in person.”
“Okay?” Terry obviously hadn’t seen her text and looked at her inquisitively. “Just come in, you’re getting soaked. Did you forget your coat?”
“Yes. Because you are the only thing I can think of, the only thing I want, Ter.”
Terry reached for her hand and gently pulled her towards him; his hands cupped her face and Sarah blinked a couple of raindrops away whilst the air crackled with want and promises. Then Terry closed the gap and Sarah melted into the soft lips and the sense of being where she always should have been.
They talked for hours, interspersed with kisses, cuddles and exploring and finding each other over and over.
Dressed in an oversized hoodie and a skirt from Terry, Sarah stepped back into the car the next day, the door being held open by him. He winked at her and gave her a quick peck before he closed the door. All her nerve endings were on fire and little explosions of pure joy bubbled up thinking about the day before and the following night.
Sarah opened her front door lighter than ever before. She gave herself a hug. I am falling for a genderfluid person. I’m queer. That’s plenty. That’s enough to know for now. I can do this, one step at a time.
There, standing on the threshold, on the brink of figuring out how much she might want to merge their lives together, it seemed her home was being redecorated again, and it got brighter and more spacious every time. Sarah knew the perception was all in her head but it felt true. The internal and the external needed to match somehow; maybe it was a taste of Terry’s existence slowly blending in.