Whether you are sitting at the bar in your favorite lesbian nightclub sipping your overly-priced microbrew or at the local gym lifting more than two Shane look-a-likes on the bench press, there is one thing you know for certain, no one really knows the “real” you. Lesbians love to be a mystery. It’s our drug of choice.

Because of all the drama and the thousand suitcases you have taken from the hook-ups, make-ups, one-nighters, u-haulers, and closet-cases you have dated, no one ever really knows the real you. Yet, you know who you are and just don’t understand why you “haven’t really connected to anyone before” even though you have a friend and ex-base spanning 34 counties and 2 countries that don’t border the United States.

You know who you are. You have a wallet with frequent sipper cards to all the local coffee shops, business cards to multiple therapists that have been recommended to you, credit cards which have been cancelled, and that condom from way back when you thought you could have been straight for a day because “no lesbians understand me.” You often wear your hoodie up, have myspace pages listing you as complicated, and all of your profiles go from private to public depending on your mood and relationship status. You also add people, send them a message saying you would like to get to know them better because they “sound cool,” but when they send you a reply, you tell your friends how someone added you to their page and now won’t leave you alone. You don’t understand why they are so “needy” or “clingy” already. You smoke, drink, have random sex, because you don’t like to settle down. You also choose to use “quotation marks” to surround every moniker you have given to mark how “no one understands you.”

While you constantly complain that your last girlfriend didn’t “get you,” you continue to keep your invisible force-field up because lesbians are crazy. You yearn to be a mystery to those around you. No one knows where you live, where you are originally from, where you like to go, or what food, drink, clothing, etc., you really love. After all, if you actually told them any of that, they wouldn’t really care, would they?

You also like to be a mystery because you think it’s hot and women like someone playing hard-to-get. This is a careful line to balance on, as you could just be considered a jackass instead of a mystery. Walking that line is the most important step in the process, as women like someone who doesn’t treat them well, especially ______ lesbians. So, you sip your drink at the local coffee shop writing poetry about how you are a mystery, texting on your phone about how there are no sane women in the world to your lesbian friends (whom have dated you at one point in their lives), and you yearn to find the girl who isn’t clingy, doesn’t need meds, and understands that you are a sensitive person who is a lot better than all the other women in the world. You just wish someone could see the “real” you.

The careful thing to note is you do all of these things in order to get the girl who “doesn’t get you.”