Take Eyes First

What is private, or public, and how this dynamic relates to safety is up to debate. Drawing on historical contexts, theoretical insights, and personal experiences, I offer a critical counternarrative to male-dominated culture. The fictional scenario touches upon the practice of lesbian cruising as a lens to examine the political control exerted over bodies and sexuality in relation to space. The queer world is full of social codes and projected intents. Faced with the threat of discrimination and societal ostracism, queer women have traditionally found connection and intimacy within private spaces such as lesbian bars and house parties. The series questions these conventions, imagining an alternate environment where lesbians seek partners openly, claiming public territories as their own. As a result, landscapes of Amsterdam’s Oosterpark, a historical cruising area, are combined with scenes of affectionate encounters between non-male individuals. The presented story does not align with reality but with emotional truths such as a search for belonging and security.

fiction writing
My time of glory was summer 2022, a few months before I got myself to come out. One evening I swung by Oosterpark, Amsterdam in search of a brisk intimate encounter. You could see young lesbian women and gender non-conforming folks coming around. Some were even my type – so butch you could mistake them for a dude. They would find somebody to pair up with and follow one another into the bushes. Women did not fear rejection nor intimidation and remained in the area until they found a perfect match for a tender moment together in the quiet of the park. How we define public and private and their connection to safety is a matter of discussion. Especially for those who were closeted, maintaining confidentiality was important. Next to discretion, patience was a virtue. I was strolling for some time when I spotted a fit masc with wide shoulders who was slightly shorter than me. Much in cruising is said with the eyes. Ours happened to meet, and I hoped we shared the same intentions. I was a lucky woman. The stranger held my gaze and nodded toward a shadowed corner where the streetlights didn’t reach. They were a generous lover to me. When it was over, we both left, never asking each other what our names were. Their touch was all I craved. 
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