of course i'm a lesbian, of course i've savior complex
a personal essay
with a thick indian-bengali accent awning my tongue as i yelp my (unproblematic) slogans out, ”arrey dating is political”, if marriage involves the government; so, do my fundamental rights entangled for scrutiny when i welcome the brand new “crush” of mine to fuck up my life (once again). i have been very open about my queer experiences with the people around me since the age of sixteen, sometimes i don’t like to label myself and yet i see myself get drawn to this ever-so-irresistible, “lesbianism”. it’s quite lovely to be a gay girl on the internet, you find lots of them; yearning and begging to sustain just a single moment of “sure, i will just drown myself in the smell of her and let it finish me”; we lesbians also might call it- salvation.
but you know what’s the real problem? the stage where when you and your girl finally reach the point for you both to hold each other and announce your love, to even reach there; that bridge is always mending and novel prejudices keep lining on it- “different from a straight-passing relationship”, “who makes the real decisions”, “can you save yourselves from this world”. the inherent need in me to try fixing the girls i fall in love with, the universe preaches the “unnaturalness” in the way i feel and i want to peel away the resentment they plaster on me. as the tears well up, from the corner of my eye, i forage to get a glimpse of my love; she soaks and suffocates in the same puddle of resentment. it breaks my heart as she tries to break free, it is my obsession or the rage that keeps mistaking the burning with love; or maybe the other way around.
there’s the anger as to call this sapphic love a tragedy because we are so full of grief, the constant shrewdness turns our bodies into october ochre crushed leaves- perpetually stuck annoyingly on our shoe soles; sickening and nauseating, hard-to-recognize beings. the way i see it in the cinema, carol snuggles up therise and kisses away all her misery (film: carol, 2015) ; their husbands being the bane of their lives- to leave everything behind just for a girl i had a minuscule interaction of few seconds; quite yes, i might actually be ready to spend the rest of my life with her.
it’s ingrained in us, to find the same wretchedness; hold their face and sing the song of “i am here to save you”. i drag her to the shore of unlimited possibilities of our love, one step to grab the delight but she wants to let go of my hand. the insecurities we pile on, the “maybe i don’t deserve you” speeches grapple us in a chokehold; the courage drowns out to love, to fight.
why do i think i am obligated to rescue every girl i moderately have feelings for? rescue from what exactly? i can’t lose her; i don’t want to lose her. the fresh fear, the disturbance in the peace; to do everything to keep her by your side. to give her everything that ever meant to you, so she stays. but here’s a thing, we queer ones have a leakage so invisible that it never ceases. we give and give and never receive (blasting my ears off by playing “the giver” by chappell roan, obviously). no storage inbuilt, the isolating confusion and hesitation of where to put this never-ending love.
time doesn’t bring relief, this anchor of buried care just keeps capsizing with no ounce of survival; and yet i am a lesbian and i will go with a blunt shovel in my hand and keep on digging; i don’t understand the difference between wrong right anymore but i know i won’t rest; it’s the only thing i can and i will do.
the way i cup my feelings for my love is unapologetically political and full of anguish; i am sorry the world keeps separating our love from ‘being human’ to ‘propaganda’. it’s the simple guilt we fail to prevail from, the intrinsic demand to keep people like us close; to not suffer the loss, and the elementary yet profound requisite of holding on to that one person we gravely love and crave every fiber of their being- to sacredly promise them that they are safe in your arms. the lesbians love taking this responsibility, the pre-conceived notion or this burden that they carry, that they ought to save us from the ages of oppression and the afflicted melancholy that comes with it.
take a deep breath, we definitely, still are at the war with this world; but you aren’t alone and you can’t save everybody if you can’t save yourself first.
here’s a poem by sappho i read while writing this piece;
here’s an obvious song recommendation that helped me to put this piece all together, of course it’s a phoebe bridger song :
Thank you for reading. I have been occupied with numerous college interviews and exams and other uni application processes, hence the 1 month wait. This community, this newsletter means a lot to me; writing to you guys keeps me going on even on the most difficult days.
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Thank you, once again
Love,
Akira
I terribly felt that, your writing is so personal and beautiful too <33 see and appreciate you sm