Else & Ilse | LGBTIQ+ adventurers

When we were young, we only (mainly?) had books with straight characters. We didn't see any representation of LGBTQ+ characters. Luckily, we see an increasing number of queer books these days— for adults ,   for younger readers,  and  for kids . And although we aren't that young anymore, we occasionally enjoy reading a YA book. Here are three books we enjoyed: Amy Feltman's Willa & Hesper (2019) is not a typical love story. Studying Creative Writing, Willa and Hesper meet at Columbia and quickly fall in love with each other. But their love is not meant to be and soon, they break up dramatically. To mend their broken hearts, both leave on trips to find their roots: Willa goes on a trip for young Jews to Germany and visits places of the Holocaust. Hesper and her family visit her grandfather's family in Tbilisi, Georgia, and she begins to uncover her family's hidden history. What If It's Us (2018) by Becky Albertalli and Adam Silvera brings us romance, friends...

Yes! Of course we are friends. We are even best friends. We know almost everything about each other. We spend more time with each other than anyone else. We enjoy each other’s company. We talk for hours, we laugh about the most stupid jokes (and some good ones as well). We can be who we really are—in the joyful moments as well as in the sad or stressed ones. We live together.  But we are so much more than what you are assuming. We also sleep in the same bed. We love each other—not platonically, but romantically. We share more with each other than we would with friends—however close we are with them. When we are holding hands, we don’t do so as friends, but as partners and lovers. And we certainly don’t kiss each other as friends. So while we would appreciate when people would accept displays of affection as natural and shareable with everyone, this is probably not the reason why people think that we are not a couple. Presenting as rather femme, we are too easily mistaken as heteros...

"Soo ... You are lesbian now?" "What? Are you gay or straight?" "But you dated men before!” Most of us have experienced questions and exclamations like these. And although we understand that it is so much easier to put someone in a box, to have an unambiguous label, it’s not always so easy for the person who’s asked to label themselves. Both of us dated men before. Else always knew that she likes women as well; Ilse took a while longer to understand—although the signs were there. Naturally, people were and are confused. Lesbian? Bisexual? Pansexual? (Although that’s something no one ever asked us yet.) For quite a few years, Else didn’t label herself at all—it was what it was. Ilse, when she finally realized that she wants to be with women, didn’t label herself either. Both of us aren’t interested in men anymore, neither sexually, nor romantically. So at some point, we started to label ourselves as lesbian or homosexual. We also like the term queer since it ref...

"Ever had a threesome?" "Hello. Can we have sex all three? Are you active or passive during sex?" "I reduce stress by putting my 10 inches between two sets of lips like those." As probably every other lesbian couple, we regularly meet (well, 'meet') men who objectify us, who use us for their sexual fantasies. Living in Cologne with a rather diverse population—a recent study speaks of 10.6% queer identifying people in Cologne, while just 6.9% identify as LGBTQ+ in Germany's total population—we experience this objectification only occasionally. But as soon as we leave the city and travel in regions where queer people are less open with their sexuality and gender (or left for more open cities), sexual harassment, remarks, and salacious gestures are part of the experience. Representing our lives on social media has intensified this issue. Sometimes, we don't get any obvious messages or comments in days. At other times, we get a few within a day...

We recently talked about coming out in general and that it is a never-ending process. There are always small(er) coming outs every time we meet new people or even when walking down the street holding hands. Kissing in public in a bar. Introducing ourselves as girlfriends at events: all of these are small coming outs. It is a process — for some people it's easy, for others it's more difficult. Some people might even have to fear severe consequences. We, in contrast, are lucky enough to not having to live in fear. But still: there are coming outs for us that aren't particularly easy. One of these not so easy moments is coming out at work. We know from quite a lot of lesbians that they feared the moment when people at their workplace found out about them being gay. You might have a good and much respected position. You're known for making a good job and people respect you. Telling them you're gay should not make a difference in your job position or the respect you'...

Three weeks ago, we talked about virtual harassment and objectification where we also cited the sentence used as a title for this post. We are aware that this sentence was supposed to be an insult and that many same-sex couples would feel hurt. But: we don't. Both of us don't want kids. There was a time Ilse thought she would have children one day, but Else never really planned on it. So telling us that we can't have a child doesn't do anything to us. At least not directly. But it still maddens us. This intentionally hurtful comment is based upon the heteronormative supposition that every woman eventually wants to have at least one child. Most of us have been told that ‘we just don’t know it yet,’ that ‘we haven’t met the right person (man) yet,’ that ‘we will see that we really do want children eventually,’ and that ‘we will surely regret our decision one day.’ No. No. No. No. We are indeed capable of making this decision. We are able to know what we want. It’s not abo...

Ever since we started our Instagram account, we are harassed and objectified —mostly by men, but also by women. Our most recent encounter started with a simple "gross." We basically knew what this person meant, but we were curious: "what exactly?", we asked. Apparently, it's "SO FUCKING GROSS" to be lesbians, it's "haram" (forbidden by Islamic law), and god will put us in heaven. But the explanation and solution were simple: we can't find a man to love us ("you can't even have a child, dude"), but listening to the Quran would help us. Thanks, darling! Alternatively, we will be going to hell, as another person told us. It's so confusing! Other messages are usually less elaborate, do not offer solutions. One of our 'favorite' ones was just one line: "pee into my mouth, please." (This one was really polite!) Others directly or indirectly asked for a threesome (that's gross!). People (men and women)...

As a bookseller, Ilse is always curious when books are published that don't serve the mainstream. Living in a world where—sadly—many children’s books still show their protagonists in stereotypical roles, we love that an increasing number of books prove that nowadays, people are thinking more outside the box. Above all, we love the trend to publish books about strong and independent girls or princesses who don't just wait for a prince to rescue them. The girls in these books are tough and ambitious and don't rely on the help of male friends (princes) to help them achieve their goals. Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls by Francesca Cavallo and Elena Favilli, for example, illustrates the stories of important and strong women in history who became famous for achieving their goals and being opinionated. But we don't want to say that there should be books like that only for girls. There is an equally great book for younger boys called Stories for Boys Who Dare to Be Diff...

As white persons born and raised in a Western European country, we are very privileged —more than most people in the world . But, at the same time, we are women and we are lesbians. We are from non-academic working/middle class blended families. We are not skinny. Still, we count ourselves lucky. We know that so many people struggle. Struggle with discrimination in so many ways, on so many levels. And we believe that society/societies should acknowledge these struggles. All of them are valid. Some struggle more, others less. Maybe, some people don't struggle at all. But we never know how severe a struggle is felt that we would disregard. We believe that it is important to share experiences of discrimination, that it is important to make these visible. Perpetrators should not be protected. Perpetrators should be called out. It should be normal to call them out. Both of us have experienced discrimination as a woman, as a lesbian, as a child from a non-academic working/middle...

Both of us are rather traditional when it comes to dating and romantic relationships. But it isn't easy to meet the right woman —even in a city as queer as Cologne. So  at some point, both of us decided to go for it: Tinder. (Else tried a few other apps solely for women but these didn't work at all : only a few women in our region were registered, even less seemed to be active —or interested .) From the beginning, many of our prejudices were confirmed. Both of us matched with women, apparently single and looking to meet another woman, who then asked us if it would be okay if their husband/boyfriend/best friend would join or, probably our favorite, "only watch." We also enjoyed a lot: "and, um, by the way: I'm in a relationship. I'm actually looking for some extra fun. I hope that's okay with you." -   "Um, no. It's not." We don't mind how others live their sexuality as long as everyone knows what they are getting into. But. ...