Black Girl White Girl Magic

If you had told me ten years ago, I would have wondered what medication you were on, and how heavy a dosage.

When I first met Ellie Claire McMahon in 2014, I never imagined that she would become the most important person in my life. We were both at an audition for some terrible horror film called "Late Model," about a fashion model murdered by a jealous ex-boyfriend who returns from the grave to seek revenge. Ellie, fresh off the plane from Potts Point in Australia, was trying to land the lead role; she had done some soap operas and nighttime dramas Down Under, and figured that playing the murdered model would be her big break. I tried out for the role of the model's best friend, who can't believe that she's back from the dead.

Neither of us got the roles we wanted--no big loss, as the film ended up not doing well anyway when it was finally released a year later. We constantly ran into each other at subsequent auditions, and actually landed roles in the same films and TV shows, sometimes playing close friends, every now and then playing bitchy rivals. We loved being nasty to each other.

It was the summer of 2016 when she told me how she felt about me. We were hanging out at my apartment in Brooklyn when she asked me about the first time I knew I was a lesbian. I told her that I had never not known; from the time I can first remember anything, I knew that girls were far cuter and more interesting than boys, and that whenever my parents took me to a wedding, and I saw a groom kiss the bride, I always wondered what it would be like to be a bride kissing another bride. I told her about the first time I had sexual thoughts about a celebrity, at the age of 13 when I saw a 19-year-old Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Vanity Fair magazine, wearing nothing but a white bra and panties, her lovely freckles covering her chest. I told her that when I saw that cover, I imagined what it would be like to kiss every freckle, what it would be like to kiss Lindsay all the way down, what it would be like to embrace her in bed and whisper into her ear.

Then, under her breath, Ellie said, "I wish I looked like Lindsay then."

"What?" I responded.

She froze in embarrassment, then I saw her eyes begin to moisten.

"Ellie, what's wrong?" I asked.

She wiped her eyes and then sat closely next to me.

"Keira?"

"Yeah?"

"What would you say if I told you I liked you?"

"Like me how?"

"I mean, what would you say if I told you I wanted to be with you?"

"Wow. Ellie, I had no idea."

"I didn't really know for sure until I met you. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Really?"

I'll never forget how it looked to see Ellie's pale hand on my dark-brown complexion; the thrill level was immeasurable.

"Keira?"

"Yeah?"

"Ever since we met, I think about you all the time. Constantly. When we're not together, I worry about you. I worry if you're safe. I miss you when we're not together."

I still remember her eyes moistening again, and how she interlocked her fingers with mine.

"I'm a little nervous...I've never had a girlfriend...I've dated guys but it was never serious...I've never met anyone like you...you're a fucking force of nature."

"Wow." I didn't know what to say; my previous girlfriends had never talked to me like this.

"My mum always used to say that the law of attraction must always be obeyed. I didn't quite know what she meant until now..."

She leaned over to kiss me and the sensation was so terrific--her lips so soft and beautiful--that I almost came right there. And soon as she pulled away, I grabbed her and kissed her back.

"Goddamn!" I said.

Ellie laughed. "Does that mean you want to be with me, too?"

"Fuck yeah," I replied. My whole body began to tingle with a new energy, and our clothes were all over the floor within seconds.

I will never forget what it was like the first time we made love that night: how good it felt to play with her long, honey-brown hair, to stare deep into her ocean-blue eyes, to kiss her porcelain neck and shoulders, to trace my fingers down her stomach, to suck and kiss her cute pink nipples, to lick away at her sweet pussy while she moaned, to kiss her inner thighs, to play with her toes. I will never forget how she pleased my body with an energy and enthusiasm unrivaled by any previous girlfriend. I will never forget how good our bodies looked next to each other after we made love, the contrast between my dark skin and her pale complexion turning us on anew.

Two years later, in September 2018, Ellie and I got married in Manhattan. Even after marriage equality fully became legal in the United States, I still couldn't quite imagine that the day would ever come when I would be the bride kissing another bride. I broke down crying after we kissed, and barely made it down the aisle, so overwhelmed was I by the emotion of the whole day. We enjoyed a wonderful honeymoon in Australia before returning to the normal, boring, married life I never thought would be mine.

When I think about all the nonsense I went through as a black queer girl growing up in New York--the threats of violence for looking different as I walked the streets, the homophobic relatives, the daily marginalization, the constant heartbreak--as the old song goes, my soul looks back and wonders how I got over. My life is certainly not perfect today, but thanks to this phenomenal woman who shares my life and my bed, it's a heck of a lot happier and better than I ever could have imagined. If you had told me ten years ago I would be this satisfied today, I would have wondered what medication you were on, and how heavy a dosage.