Professional Fairy-Princess

I am an unmarried woman in my 30s with lots of single, professional friends. I am a career arts administrator (having worked in theater, performing arts and museums.) I am the resident of a very diverse neighborhood of old refurbished houses. I am... an all-American fag hag.

I hope not to offend anyone, as I use the term "fag hag" with much love and respect. Most of us "hags" wear the label proudly, and I was told that members of "the club" (gay people in the gay community) would even issue the official hag membership shirt. But I have yet to receive mine.

Currently, I am in a "committed" relationship with my gay male B.F.F., who I regularly term my "gay husband." We have been through a lot together, "Corky" (he wanted a pseudonym for when I "out" all of the really juicy stuff about him) and I. We first met in college when he was a closeted, well-dressed, doll-collecting, Dolly Parton-loving queer (again, I use the term with affection.) I knew he was gay long before he told me (or his parents.) And when he officially came out to me, the conversation was not exactly "out of the blue," as we had earlier that day eaten lunch in a tea room, just been dancing at a gay bar and were now sharing a heart-to-heart over a bottle of blush rose'. I was so proud of "Corky" for finally admitting to being who he is, and I like to think that our close friendship helped him out of that closet.

"Corky" was the first guy friend that I helped "out." Little did I know that there would be many more to come, including (unfortunately) a few that I had dated. There was "Eric," the "I swear I'm not gay, even though I love designing shoes!" guy who I dated briefly before summer break in college but who came back fall semester a proud, card-carrying "member" of the club. There was also "Derek," who was just a little too enthralled with the male nude at the art gallery where we went on our date. Over the noise from the crowd and a jazz band playing in the lobby, when I asked what drew him to that particular painting, "Derek" admitted that he "also liked men." Then there was "Joe," who I only went out with once and, unlike the others, wasn't gay. We may have gone out again, Joe and I, but we didn't really "match." See, there was quite a big difference between us in height. Also, I preferred wearing sundresses, but he preferred wearing women's skirt suits! 

I'm proud to say that I've had a long career as a fag hag, or "fairy princess" or "fruit fly," (terms that my gay husband prefers.) I'm waiting for the day when they decide to pay me for my work recruiting members to the "club." Until then, I'm honored to continue accompanying my gay husband to the occasional gay line dancing night or "the club" when he needs someone to go with, and I'll always be up for the men's league [insert any sport] match because "we really appreciate the game."