Stereotype-i-zations

So I was recently the victim of a gross and blatant stereotype-i-zation.

Someone asked me if I play sports. When I said no. She responded, "Oh. Wow. You just look so athletic."

Um. No. I believe the word you were searching for is leeeeeeessssssssbian. I just look so leessssssbian.
And just because I am a lesbian, doesn't mean I play sports. And I'll thank you to remember that.

I don't play sports. I am probably one of the most ill suited people to athleticism I know.
I am uncoordinated,
ungraceful, and
unconscious of my body

Do you really want me to be your wide receiver? Better yet how about the starting forward on our basketball team, because, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned
THAT I’m FIVE FEET TALL AND ABOUT 100 POUNDS (give or take a few depending on how much ice cream I’ve had that day).

Basically the only sport I probably could do with my size is gymnastics. And do you really want me prancing around in a glittery leotard and dancing with ribbons???

Didn’t think so.
Neither do I.

And sports just conjure up way too many bad memories for me to ever attempt them again. Let me paint you a picture.
In seventh grade I joined the basketball team in a lame attempt to make friends (because, yes, I was even more socially awkward than I am now and didn’t have to many friends to speak up back in junior high). I was small for my age (duh), had huge glasses that took up the entirety of my face, and my hair was always an unruly mess on the top of my head (because much to the dismay of my mother…I refused to brush it or put it in a ponytail or do anything to make it look…normal). When I joined the basketball team, they didn’t have a uniform small enough for me. Consequently, my shorts came down past my knees and my jersey sat like a potato sack on my body. Making friends looking like this, was not going to be easy. Especially because everyone else joined the basketball team TO WIN. And they all had been playing a while. I, on the other hand, did not know the difference between a “zone” defense or a “man to man” defense.
I will end the sad story of my basketball days here and spare myself further embarrassment and just say, I sat on the bench a lot.

For a long time in my life I wanted to be a jockey. I know laugh it up. It’s funny. Little Amy wearin’ silk pajamas atop a huge horse.It was a time in my life where everything just made sense.
I was nine years old
I rode horses
I was the smallest kid in my class
I seemed destine for jockey-dom
And don’t make the mistake of thinking I rode some washed up ponies! The horse I rode regularly was a retired racehorse. Heck yeah I thought I was supposed to be a jockey!
But alas, we moved back to city and away from the horses
And suddenly it made no sense to be a jockey anymore


I used to run cross country in grade school. That was easy enough for me. I was pretty fast. No coordination involved, just run around and try to be first. I never was first, but I only a little slower than the fastest girl on the team. I was GOOD. It was also at this time in my life that I ate outrageous amounts of food for really, anyone, but especially someone my size. I could easily eat two baked potatoes, two pieces of meat, a salad, and some vegetables in one dinner sitting. Hey, I needed the carbs! I was the second-best runner on the cross-country teams, folks. Not a position I took lightly.

But no sports now. Not for Amy. So while she may look athletic, she promises, she’s just a lesbian. She doesn’t play sports.
Not rugby.
Not ice hockey.
No.
Not even softball.