28. Michaela
MICHAELA
Davis had taken Jay to go do what Michaela thought of as computer things, so she found herself sitting alone in the common space when Iris emerged from the room she shared with Davis.
All in all, she was happy about the space.
The night before had been sweet. She and Jay had finally settled the whole Diana thing and then focused on gushing about how much they missed each other.
Which had led to them kissing, and then to heavy petting, and then exploring territory they hadn’t yet covered nor talked about.
All was fine until Michaela had once again gotten into her head, pulling away and needing a break.
It was frustrating because she wanted Jay; she wanted Jay to touch her.
She wanted to be as close to Jay as possible.
“What’s up, hot stuff,” Iris said, flopping on the couch next to Michaela.
Iris had her brown hair pulled into two pigtails and was wearing a baby pink sweatshirt with sequins and a pair of grey sweatpants.
She, too, sported a pair of the fuzzy socks she had gotten from their Christmas with Ms. Cece.
“Not so hot stuff,” Michaela said back.
“Uh oh, something happen?” Iris said, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Or not happen?”
Michaela let her head fall back, thinking it was actually fortunate that Jay was off with Davis and she could spend some time with Iris again.
She and Iris had done a lot of talking over break, mainly because Michaela had so many questions and she didn’t want to pester Jay.
Not that Jay wouldn’t answer her, but she and Jay were so different.
It had honestly been somewhat of a relief to hear that Jay had doubts about her polyamorous identity.
Not because Michaela wanted her girlfriend to feel guilty or crappy in any way, but it was nice to hear that Jay did have moments where she felt insecurity around how she expressed herself.
So much about Jay’s approach to life just was.
She was a minority, an immigrant, a woman, a lesbian.
She wore all of those identities loudly and proudly.
It was something Michaela couldn’t relate to, but she had found what Iris had shared about the beginning of her own journey to be more in line with where she was. Besides, Iris was a professional.
Michaela had been struck by how much Iris seemed to know, considering they were the same age, and yet they felt like they were eons apart. It wasn’t just about the sexual experience either, it was about how Iris talked about her experiences, her body, her mindset.
“Iris, I really think something is wrong with me. I mean, how can I want Jay—that way—so much, and not be able to do it? It’s like there is this giant wall between my brain and my body.”
Iris looked at Michaela, her hazel eyes assessing. Then she let out a breath and her features softened in the way they did when she was about to have a serious talk, like an after-school special where Michaela was the special. Michaela didn’t mind it one bit; she found it comforting.
“You could always bust out my Christmas present,” Iris said, smiling conspiratorially.
Iris had gifted Michaela a full red lingerie getup, complete with garters and stockings.
Michaela thought it was beautiful, but couldn’t figure out the appropriate time to bust out serious college lingerie in a college dorm.
She felt like she needed to save it for when she and Jay went somewhere special.
Iris was watching her with a serious look on her face, her eyes softening.
“There isn’t anything wrong with you, Kayla.
Believe it or not, plenty of women—yes, I mean every kind of woman,” Iris pointed out as Michaela opened her mouth to clarify, “can have weird things about their bodies. You know Clara, from the Alliance?” Iris asked, and Michaela nodded her head, remembering the cute mousy-haired junior who she sometimes ran into at the Alliance.
Clara was a femme lesbian who Michaela knew had been assigned female at birth, but they’d never gotten close.
“I am only saying this because she literally wrote poems about it in the paper, but she couldn’t have sex with anyone without a t-shirt for years, because she felt like her breasts were too small. ”
Michaela digested the statement. “Because her breasts were too small?” Michaela repeated back, dumbfounded.
“Yep, where she grew up apparently she was teased for it mercilessly, and as a result, wasn’t comfortable with them for a long time. Look, I know what you’re thinking—that’s it?”.
Michaela nodded.
“But I bring this up” Iris continued, “because I used to be where you are, Kay. I used to disassociate anytime someone touched me like that.”
This surprised Michaela, given what Iris did for work, and it also made her realize how little she had asked about her friend.
Shame and guilt bubbled up to the surface of her mind.
“Iris, how long have you been doing sex work? And how were you able to if—if you were like me? Is that how you got over it?”
Iris chuckled. “Honestly? The more I studied in school and became interested in psychology, the idea of sex work felt like a clinical opportunity.” Iris tipped her head back in thought.
“And look, my clients are friends of my parents. A whole fucked up arrangement that I decided to take advantage of. I’ll probably have to work through it later in life.
But no, I didn’t fuck the nerves and discomfort out of me, so to speak.
I just started thinking about things differently and approached my earlier gigs like an experiment.
About me being this type of woman—well, that’s part of the appeal for them.
But I always knew I was a woman, even when I was growing up.
I also always knew I couldn’t tell anyone.
No one but Davis. We were twelve or thirteen.
He had already told me he liked boys. And when I did, you know what he said?
” Iris got a dreamy look on her face. “You being a girl doesn’t change that you’re still my best friend. And that was it.”
Michaela felt her heart melt at the idea that Iris and Davis had each other, had a slice of acceptance, like Jay, at such a young age.
“Anyway, we came here, to school. And I didn’t know what I wanted to study, but I always like to read, so I gravitated to the humanities and social sciences.
I ended up in psychology and I fell in love with it.
A whole subject dedicated to understanding the human mind?
Mine felt like a mess when I was a freshman.
So I kept pursuing it, and I came across gender studies and social psychology and more and more avenues that helped me reframe the way I was programmed to think about things. ”
Michaela nodded vigorously, having had the same experience at her local library, when she had first started talking to Jay online.
“Same here, I mean, not to the extent you are, and I am just starting out with my intros last semester,” she said, feeling validated in her upcoming semester class choices of education, psychology, and gender studies.
“Once I learned how to understand things like gender and sexual orientation, I was hooked. It was actually in my second semester of my first year when I took a class with Ms. Cece. She pushed us to always keep in mind whose work we were reading and their background, which was helpful, but then she completely blew me away when we did a section on the psychology of language.”
“Language?” Michaela repeated, intrigued. God, why hadn’t she talked to Iris about this stuff sooner? She found the conversation they were having fascinating, and while they hadn’t yet touched upon her predicament, she knew Iris was getting there.
“Yeah, that language carries,” Iris looked up again, as if trying to pluck the right word from the air above them, “weight. That language can really inform how we think about things. Some of it is necessary. Like, this is old bread versus new bread helps you understand if you want to eat the bread. But on a deeper level, we also bring our lived experiences to language. Saying I’m starving carries different weight, depending on the context of the person saying it.
Or how the word water can mean one thing to you and another to someone trapped in the desert. ”
“Or the word girl?” Michaela said slowly.
“Or the word girl, woman, feminine, et cetera,” Iris said, nodding appreciatively. “And then Ms. Cece blew my mind with one single point: language is made up.”
Michaela let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Now look, language is important, and it seriously can freak people out to feel like everything they’ve known is different or wrong or whatever.
But you asked me how I finally was able to come to terms with some things.
And truthfully, I don’t know that I have.
If you could wave a magic wand and give me breasts and a vagina, I would take it.
But I don’t have a magic wand. So instead, I began to challenge myself, start to rethink how I thought about my body and my womanhood.
I challenged myself on the language I used.
I am not saying it will work for everyone, or you, or whomever.
I am just sharing what worked for me. It’s actually something I want to work on with Ms. Cece next year.
I’ve decided I want to be a queer sex therapist.”
Iris said that last part sheepishly, as if she hadn’t said it out loud before—at least, Michaela assumed, not to anyone besides Davis. “I think you’ll be amazing.” Michaela beamed at her friend.
Iris smiled back at her, seeming relieved.
“It’s not like we learn any of this stuff in school or have access to this information readily available.
But I am serious when I say I love what me and Davis do, mainly because we are super lucky and have been able to keep our risk low, and I love what I am studying here. ”
Michaela nodded and thought it was an amazing idea. She thought about the safe space Iris had not only created for her but for her and Jay, and the space that Davis had obviously created for Callie and Kevin. “Do you think Davis would want to be your business partner?”
“Oh definitely, that man is stuck with me,” Iris laughed.
A lull settled between them before Iris said, “When it comes to your mind and body, and that wall you talked about, my whole point is that so many of us have walls to overcome when it comes to sex. We aren’t taught about it.
We aren’t always taught to be in tune with our bodies, especially as women. ”
“Jay doesn’t seem to have walls,” Michaela muttered.
“Well yeah, that girl knows her own hotness, and you know what? Good for her. We all have different experiences, Kayla, and different relationships with ourselves. Those differences don’t mean one is more right or more wrong than the other.
Clara used to be insecure about her flat chest while Jay, who is flat as a board, would flash anyone who asked. She’s very proud of her nipples.”
“They are super cute.”
“They are, but I’m sure Clara’s are too, you know?”
Michaela laughed at that and nodded.
“Now, our wall, or your wall, is a specific kind, and it’s layered, a brick wall,” Iris said with a soft chuckle, “but maybe we can work on something to make it a bit more flexible until it breaks?”
Michaela nodded, and once again felt so thankful for her friend. “Maybe one day I will write about breaking that wall for the paper,” she said.