Abandoning The U-Haul

Art by Lauren Mallett

Have you heard of a U-Haul lesbian? And no, it’s not a masc woman with a backward Red Sox cap driving a rented U-Haul (although I’ve definitely seen a few). It’s an archetype for how fast some lesbians move in relationships. And as a lesbian, I can confirm we live up to this nickname.

My roommate, also a lesbian, went on a date in December. In preparation for the glorious union, we enacted every hypothetical scenario that could happen on the date. A dramatic streetlight kiss, the light brushing of hands, the sensual walk up the apartment stairs in Allston as she followed her new lover to her apartment. 

So, we were taken aback when none of that happened. In fact, that date lasted a tasteful three hours and ended with a peck. We reeled about it for days, trying to understand what went wrong. Except, nothing went wrong. In fact, to most heterosexuals, my roommate had an incredibly successful date. So why didn’t it feel this way?

Well, U-Haul lesbians aren’t just a real-life archetype—it’s in our limited media representation, too. In a recent read for my blog, “Enemies to Readers,” I read Ashley Herrring-Blake’s Delilah Green Doesn’t Care. The two main characters, Delilah and Claire, profess their love for each other within two weeks of meeting each other. To be fair, they knew each other when they were in high school, but… they weren’t close. I found myself put off by what we book bloggers call “insta-love,” especially because it was women of my own community. I wanted their love to grow over several months, not several days. And it doesn’t help they were participating in the infamous twelve-hour-date.

As queer women, we’ve been trained to survive—no, not survive, prosper on the twelve-hour-date. This twelve-hour date includes three essentials: 1) love bombing, 2) trauma dumping, and 3) sensual eye contact. As a long-time lesbian (I’ve been out since I was fourteen), I’ve experienced all of these on dates, and the relationship always ends poorly. But my friends keep continuing their constant love bombing, trauma dumping, and sensual eye contact.

Love bombing has become a commodified term used to psychoanalyze our past situationships and toxic exes. But love bombing is a real manipulation tool. According to the Cleveland Clinic, love bombing is a “form of psychological and emotional abuse often disguised as excessive flattery.” 

Many of my queer female friends have experienced love bombing but chalked it up to the honeymoon phase of a new relationship. But when a partner begins excessively flattering you, you’re more willing to overlook issues that could indicate a potential mismatch between you. When I was fourteen and first exploring a queer relationship, my first girlfriend said she could see herself marrying me three weeks into our relationship. And I thought this was totally rational!

I mean, I’m pretty cool, so I get it. But if we’re not supposed to be committing to marriage and kids on the first date, what are we supposed to be doing?

A first date is exactly what it sounds like: it’s the first time you’re sitting down with someone, having a meaningful conversation, and figuring out if you like them or not. And if you don’t like them? You get to leave! At least, that’s how heterosexuals operate. But there’s something odd happening in the queer community that forces us to spill our guts on the first date. 

There is no pressure to tell a person you’ve just met your entire life story. If you have deep-set trauma? No need to reveal yourself. If you have intense commitment issues due to a lying, cheating ex? Save it for the fourth date. Part of the reason we queer women find ourselves in a toxic relationship three months in is because we hear our date’s baggage up front without any time to process what they’re telling us and make an intelligent decision. For example, if someone says they have commitment issues and you’re looking for a serious relationship, you’re allowed to not see them a second time.

I think at the root of these twelve-hour dates, other than our queer connection, is the fear that this person is the last person who will show interest in you. The queer community is small but mighty—sometimes, the queer community resembles a web of exes, ex-friends, and ex-hookups. When you find someone who checks all of your boxes on paper, it's scary to reject them because it’s hard to say when someone as good will come along again.

But part of the benefit of living in 2024 is that people are willing to explore their queerness more than ever. The queer community is growing as more young people recognize their queerness as a benefit rather than a deficit. Which means… you don’t have to settle for someone on the first date. If you want to go on a three-hour movie date and not commit to intimacy, you’re allowed to do that. I’d even encourage it.

I think masc lesbians should keep driving U-Hauls, just not to move in with the girl they’ve only met once. If this sounds like you, don’t fret because I’ve been there too. But queer love is about so much more than committing to someone out of fear that you won’t find someone else like them. Our community has grown significantly over the past few decades as people feel safer and more willing to come out. This means you have more wiggle room to be selective with your partners.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… let’s take a note from heterosexuals and chill out. First dates can be short, long, and everything in between. You can hold someone’s hand, kiss them, have a steamy makeout—or nothing at all. Everything is acceptable because it’s up to you. 

Keep dating, keep loving, and stay absolutely, unapologetically queer.