Taking a Hermit Timeout
Op-Ed: Bridget Lewison
I’m 49, I’m a queer woman, and I’ve been angry. Angry about not coming out sooner. Angry about letting myself go. Angry about living in a rural town with few LGBTQ+ resources. Instead of drinking that anger and myself into a coma, I decided to improve my situation by continuing on that last foray into dating women.
For most of 2018, I was separated from my second husband. He encouraged me to come out in 2011 and was my sole emotional support throughout the process. I couldn’t tell you why we tried to make the marriage work. We finally divorced in 2019.
Before the separation, I’d had a handful of sexual experiences with women during the “open” portion of our decade-long marriage. Twosomes, threesomes, foursomes, even some adventurous BDSM play, but never an actual girlfriend. Although I had access to plenty of sexual partners, I experienced deep loneliness.
So, separated, single and finally, out, I downloaded a handful of dating apps. After seeing the same five local women on all of them, I found myself driving up to 7 hours one-way to meet women. I felt such an urgency to find someone. I made some friends, but It was exhausting and expensive.
I reluctantly settled into being alone and, oddly enough, found I loved it — probably a little too much. Save for traveling to a handful of outings with fellow Derek and Romaine listeners (for years the only queer community I knew), I fast was becoming a hermit, gaining weight and drinking too much boxed wine.
After almost selling my house and moving to a bigger city, I got word someone was planning the first pride celebration in our area. With only a few months of planning, somehow it all came together and 3,000 people attended last June. I volunteered and gave free hugs to strangers. Nobody protested.
This year, we’re expecting twice as many attendees.
I made a lot of new friends, and I didn’t have to drive hours to see them.
I plugged my treadmill back in and eventually got curious about dating again. The same five local women still were there, but I wasn’t crestfallen. I realized I needed that alone time to feel comfortable in my new life, my true life.
