I had never felt like I fit in at my perfectly manicured (snooze) Westport, Connecticut high school. There were femme lesbians, butch lesbians, goth lesbians, lesbians with suntans and honey-blonde-hair and lesbians that didn’t fit into any kind of lesbian category.
#Gay pride tattoos for girls full#
Lesbians with pockets full of money walking around town with fluffy, perfectly-groomed dogs. There were lesbians with shaved heads and tattoos. I unflinchingly stared at them as they made-out over heaping plates of the world-famous Massachusetts lobstah in cozy, chic restaurants. Lesbians were everywhere! They clutched hands while walking down the streets of the quaint seaside village. Related: Seven Minutes in Heaven with Queer Tattooist Virginia Elwood Photo by Wiki Commons My lackluster heart, for the first time ever, soared into the pale blue P-Town sky. Have you ever been to Provincetown? It’s a lesbian mecca. This was confirmed labor day weekend when I went to Provincetown with my best friend Suzie, for a little pre-school-year vacation on The Cape. I knew, the moment my chapped, teen lips touched hers, that I was gay. We hooked up in the summer and when the school year started up in the fall, she left for boarding school in Switzerland (she was a bougie euro babe, I was a tri-state baby punk) and we never saw each other again. It was soul-scorching, powerful, all-consuming and forever changed the course of my life. It was classic, short-lived, first time, teenage lesbian love. Actually calling it a “hook up” undermines the epic experience! I fell in love with this girl. I got my first tattoo at age 16, right after I hooked up with a girl for the first time.