Out on a dike

Out on a dike phr. [mid 19-C] (US) going out in one's best clothes. [DIKED DOWN] I'm out as a dyke, occasionally out with a dyke. What I do when I'm out on a dike can become your business once I write about it here.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Lost and Found

Given the subject of my earlier post on the politics and significance of Coming Out, I think some entries from my twenty-year-old diary should be allowed to stand alone. I'll begin with an early poem which is stepping out of the closet (the closed pages of a diary) for the very first time today.

September 6th 1986

I Did Not Want to Lose You

"I did not want to lose you."
Said a thousand times in a lifetime
to a thousand different lives.
All of them lost.
No longer mine, nor were they ever;
free to walk out and slam the door in my face.
But memories don't fade.
Occasionally the door moves ajar,
the movement of a silent puff of wind –
or is it my sigh?
And I see them standing there
in a crowd of faces of which I know none.
Moved on to a new playground
as mine has rusted over with tears.
Lost from touch, but touchingly stored,
because I did not want to lose you.

September 8th 1986

Oh, I'm so glad to be back at College. I am so happy in having seen R and in spending nearly all of the day in her company. I am incredibly happy, lively and interested when in her company. I love her; how I love her. We are good friends and nothing more, but I love just being with her, talking to her, laughing with her. She means a great deal to me. When at College there isn't so much time in which to worry and get depressed - and this is good for me. I don't have to sit and worry about what a problem being a lesbian can be, although some of my fears are lived out at College.

Sitting in the Common Room at dinner-time, all the other girls can do is sit and eye up the new first-year boys and talk really suggestively to each other about the males they sight. That's all they did today - any new male that appeared they rushed to stare at him in order to rate his dress sense and looks and to discuss how good he would be in bed. Of course I don't play a part in this conversation - I just laugh at their behaviour and refuse to mind that I play no part - but, it is quite upsetting, I must admit. It does make you realise that you're different - it's not other people who make you an outsider, it's your own thoughts. I get no enjoyment from oggling the boys. There's no point in forcing myself - I refuse to live out a pretence.

It's true what one woman said on the lesbian programme I watched - nearly all the conversation of friends is to do with some aspect of sexuality - but homosexuality is different - rather a taboo subject. It is okay to talk for hours and hours about boy/girl relationships but I am forced to keep silent about my sexuality.

R doesn't come into the Common Room. I rather wish that she did because I would sit with her, and I wouldn't mind what she did or said. It wouldn't bother me because I love her and I know I have her friendship. Love does make a great deal of difference - it is extremely important - and so very, very strong.

I was standing close to R at one point today and as she moved her breasts rubbed against my arm. I was very aware of this fact, and my thought at the time was: does she know she's doing this? I nearly allowed myself to believe that she had rubbed against me purposely because she stayed close for quite a number of seconds and made no movement to change position. I suppose, though, that she didn't notice or thought nothing of this happening because she has no thought of me sexually - whereas I am obviously going to be extremely aware of her and her body. It's sad, really, to think of the frustrations between people and the secrets that they keep.

I had thought that I might be afraid to touch R because of how I feel about her, but I am so glad that this is not the case. I have no anxiety, no nerves in touching her impulsively in order to capture her attention. This fact is a great relief to me because it shows that I act naturally with her - something which I must do. And, oh how naturally do I act! - I am so comfortable with R, so much at ease - so much in need of her being with me.

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  • At 10:47 pm, September 11, 2006, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Oh Nicki you have me on the edge of my voyeuristic seat, you have piqued my prurient interest, I am undone, hooked, flutteringly agog for the next installment!

    Actually I am indeed in suspense and also blessing my natural laziness in that I never continued the diary I started at 11 because I know damn well my masochistic nature would have had me pasting it all over the net. Believe me I had none of the insight or literary ability that you obviously had at an early age - the world would have been bored and horrified in turns by my efforts.

    More, more! Of yours I mean.


  • At 11:29 pm, September 12, 2006, Blogger Nicki Hastie said…

    Hi Rob

    Thanks for your feedback. It's good to know you're still reading. At some point I'll have to leave this twenty-year-old conceit behind. (Can it be a 'conceit' if it's not fanciful?) But if it's working for now - well - I'll keep on for a bit!

    Although I owe it to my younger self not to rewrite anything just to keep a prurient interest piqued and at its peak! What has been, has been, as they say. No harm in revisiting and reporting, though, hey?


  • At 4:31 pm, September 25, 2006, Blogger Eloise said…

    I found an old notebook, mostly full of poems and songs and stuff but it had this one diary entry all about coming out etc. I should post a bit on my blog, it made me laugh to look back at the angst of it all.

    Where are you and why haven't you written a post for ages?


  • At 9:22 pm, October 01, 2006, Blogger Nicki Hastie said…

    Hi Eloise

    I will try to be a better blogger in October! For some reason your comment didn't come through until I made a new post just now, so that teaches me to be a little more regular with my posting.

    Oh yes - I want to see the insides of your notebook!! Please blog about that. Reading your post from today, you sound like you need a laugh. Families - who'd have 'em, eh?!! We have to be pleased some of them are prepared to breed, I suppose, to have our chance at life ;-)



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