What's your type?

The news remains devastating. I don’t have all the answers, but if you have questions for an American Jew, I’m always a message away.

New York has the highest concentration of lesbian bars in America. Each of them provides different brands of fascination and fun. My bar of choice is not inherently lesbian, but The Woods has a lesbian night every Wednesday. Woods Wednesdays are a cesspool of yearners mostly wearing black and white. Some people say this bar is the most intimidating, but I’m hot and fun, so no bar can intimidate me! You can run into a plethora of people here. Just last week, I ran into my lovely freshman-year neighbor and a lovely girl from high school whom I have not seen since graduation. On the flip side, you can run into an ex-lover or ex-bestie. It is also a great place to meet people and make friends…or more.

Lesbian bars are especially intriguing when you walk in: every head turns towards you and looks away, whether you allure or not. Some are bold enough to eventually come chat you up. My friend Meredith wanted to venture through The Woods for the first time, and she looked stunning in a pink silk button-down. Unfortunately, this yielded a f*ckboy lesbian to walk her way. I love being in these flirty conversations as someone with a girlfriend because I can just say whatever I want with no consequence. I don’t need this person to approve of me. She followed Meredith around, which involved friend Rhi and I to deal with the f*ckboy lesbian and her friend’s antics (the friend lives in Dumbo and is under 30. Red flag!).

Meredith was not interested in the f*ckboy lesbian’s flirting, so we moved about the bar to escape her. She eventually found us again and loves commanding lame conversation. She asked our group What’s everyone’s type? I hate, hate, HATE this question! I responded (which I’ll get into later), which she promptly ignored. Looking towards Meredith, she said Well, my type is femme, shorter than me, like…girl next door type. Groan. Meredith sidestepped the f*ckboy lesbian’s pass at her, and friends came to our rescue to successfully evade this girl’s conversational grasp.

Although this individual was frustrating me all night, this question was the pinnacle of annoying. The question is asked often on lesbian first dates and initial conversations on Love Island. I do not believe in types. Yes, we all have attributes we like and dislike in a romantic partner. Yes, we want to seek after the things we like. However, to reduce someone down to a type is just that — reductive. We are so much more than what our types may seem. I have been told that I am a frat boy in a girl’s body (not fully untrue), but my confidence when I used to approach women does not mean I did so with a cheesy pickup line while chugging a beer. Or that I would then use a girl and ditch her mercilessly. Or that I want to be dominant all the time.

I have morphed and changed throughout my romance journey. In middle and high school, I was shy with people until approached. My nerdiness and confusion shone through while trying to learn how to be desirable. With men in college, I felt like I perfected my brand of Guy’s Girl, willing to laugh at dumb jokes with football on in the background and flicking on the seductive, feminine switch at a moment’s notice. Commanding conversation, poking fun at men before showing a softer side. I knew my role and how to act my way into intrigue.

Once girlies came into the picture, everything shifted. I still had encounters with men but was learning how to attract women. What people don’t tell you about figuring out your sexuality is that you have to start learning how to date all over again. I started dating girls at the end of high school, but I easily fell into patterns that mimic middle schoolers learning how to date and deal with big romantic feelings. I had to work my way up to where my age actually was, and that took a lot of time and mistakes. It also took lots of “types.” I did not know how to be attractive yet, because the tricks you play on men do not work on women. The cat-and-mouse game becomes cat-and-cat, literally. Women are not simple, and many of them are not used to making the first move. Dates get super vulnerable within the first meeting, which is why lesbian first dates tend to be over 4 hours and result in speedy love timelines. Learning how to be open but not frightening, flirty but not disrespectful is a delicate art.

My first girlfriend was very girly when we dated in high school. She wore pretty dresses, loved female singer-songwriters, and wanted to be adored. Even this description reduces her to a type and is not indicative of this version of her that I loved. I made the first move but bumbled through it. I did not know I was bi; I just could not stop thinking about her and had to do something about it. When I started college as a single, newly bi girl who now could introduce herself as someone who’s out, I had to figure out who I wanted to be and who I wanted to fix my past mistakes with. My early college ladies often fell under a type: femme, sweet, quiet, smart, and little experience with girls. I realized that I could not wait for them to make the first move because that, like myself, was not what they were used to. But I wanted to make out, and through much stumbling, I taught myself how to initiate. How to ask them out, show them a fun time, and hopefully propel them to hang out with me again.

Oftentimes, they did not want to hang out with me again. Our first date would be magical: long, filled with laughter and deep conversation, and usually a physical component, often as small as a short kiss at the end of the night. They would even tell me how much fun they had and that they wanted to see me again — unprompted! Still, they often did not make it to another date. I chalk it up to two reasons. 1. Girls are used to pleasing people, especially men. They want to be nice even if they are not feeling it. Confrontation is scary and can be avoided. 2. They actually had a wonderful time, but fear commitment or further vulnerability, so they flee.

I began dressing a bit less feminine and became much more comfortable with making the first move. I’m loud and happy to control how the conversation flows. I began fitting myself into a type. This is how the fratty persona developed. My girls also fit a type, but I was frustrated with feeling emotionally invested in people who had no interest in doing the same.

Then, I met my second girlfriend. Not my previous type at all. Masculine, domineering, basketball short-wearing, and made the first move. She was my first lesbian and had a few girlfriends before meeting me. I was transfixed. I had no idea these would be qualities I was attracted to, but I was. I liked sitting in a circle and hearing her regale a group with wild stories knowing that she would leave the function with me. I leaned into both traditionally masculine and feminine tendencies. I would femme it up for parties to show our differences, but otherwise wore hoodies and Adidas pants. I wanted to be smothered with love and held closely. However, so did she. Through her rambunctious exterior, there was a softness. She is a girl, after all. She is a person, after all.

The same intellect I liked from the girls I used to date was present in her. Dating her opened me up to girls with varying appearances, aesthetics, and dreams. I learned that as long as someone was kind, funny, and smart, their beauty could manifest physically in a variety of styles. If someone asked me what my type was once I was single again, I had no idea what to say.

This search for humor, honesty, and security led me to Meera, whom I had been attracted to since the beginning of college but felt like I did not have the gay rizz to properly woo her. My experiences during school helped shape me to know who I want and how to find it. I matured to be dating like a 21-year-old now instead of a middle schooler. Meera is also different from my past relationships. She is an analyst, an observer, a creative, and truly the kindest soul. I do not feel a power imbalance; there are moments when I lead, when she takes the reins, and when we tackle an objective as a unit. This is what I like. I don’t want to be the boy or the girl in a relationship, because that is not a thing when you’re a girl dating a girl.

So when the f*ckboy lesbian asked my type, what was my answer? None! A girl has types, but a woman is open to experience. So much of love is learning about someone’s differences, and to restrict yourself to a physical type or emotional vibe limits your chance of finding someone that makes you happy, whether for a night or a lifetime. If you find yourself stuck within a rigid type, ask yourself why that is. How does this serve you? What do you learn between encounters that allows you to be better for the next one? Be open, and you might surprise yourself.

Nyc apartment hunting hehe so we talking Brooklyn area or good areas in bk to live.

— BK or Bust

Brooklyn is the best place in the world. Here are a few spots to consider:

Since you’re choosing Brooklyn, you’ll choose somewhere great. Just don’t go too south that you have no friends nearby and a horrendous commute. And avoid Downtown Brooklyn due to its general grossness and Eye of Sauron.

Want advice from someone as unqualified but possibly more confident than you? Send in a question for Olympic Coaching.

I’m running out of questions! Send some in pweese :3