Laura: Most people think the hardest part of being queer is the big 'coming out' moment. The dramatic confession, the tears, the hugs. Sophia: Right, the movie-of-the-week version. Laura: Exactly. But what if the real challenge is figuring out what to say before you even open your mouth? And what if the answer is... you don't need a perfect answer? Sophia: Ooh, I like that. It takes the pressure off immediately. It’s not about having a grand declaration ready, but about navigating the uncertainty itself. Laura: That's precisely the spirit at the heart of Ask a Queer Chick: A Guide to Sex, Love, and Life for Girls Who Dig Girls by Lindsay King-Miller. It’s this wonderfully practical and witty guide that treats questions not as a problem, but as the whole point. Sophia: And King-Miller is the perfect person to write this. She started the 'Ask A Queer Chick' column for the influential women's website The Hairpin way back in 2011. She saw this huge gap—there was no one giving practical, funny, non-judgmental advice for queer women. Apparently, she was flooded with emails almost immediately. Laura: It shows how massive the need was. People weren't looking for academic theory; they were looking for a friend who could tell them if it was okay to be confused. Which brings us to the first big idea in the book: this whole messy, beautiful business of identity.

Laura: King-Miller starts with a really powerful, counter-intuitive idea. She has this quote: "You’re not born with a single identity that is perfect and immutable." Sophia: That sounds liberating, but also maybe a little terrifying? I think for a lot of people, the whole goal is to find that one label—gay, bi, lesbian, straight—that finally fits. Don't labels help you find your community? Laura: They absolutely can, and she's not anti-label at all. Her point is that we should see them as tools, not cages. A label is an approximation, a word we use to describe a feeling or an experience at a certain point in time. It’s not a life sentence. She argues that the pressure to "discover" your one true, unchanging identity is a huge source of anxiety. Sophia: It’s like you have to pass a test before you’re allowed to join the club. You have to be "gay enough" or "bi enough." Laura: Precisely. And she speaks from experience. She talks about her own journey, identifying as bisexual for a long time, then identifying as a lesbian when she was in a long-term relationship with a woman, and then eventually returning to a bi identity because it felt more honest. Her identity evolved with her life, and that’s the permission she gives the reader. The journey is the destination. Sophia: So the goal isn't to solve the mystery of "What am I?" but to get comfortable living inside the question. Laura: Yes! To listen to your heart, as she puts it, "even when it isn’t making much sense; that’s how you learn to speak its language." It’s about self-exploration over self-definition. Sophia: Now, the book was published in 2016, and one of the common critiques I’ve seen from readers is that it focuses primarily on the experiences of cisgender queer women. How does this idea of fluidity and questioning hold up today, in a world with a much broader and more visible understanding of gender identity? Laura: That's a really important point, and the author is upfront about it. She states that the book is primarily for "all girls who like girls," and acknowledges that the experiences of trans individuals, particularly trans women, come with unique challenges that she, as a cisgender woman, can't fully speak to. Sophia: So she defines her lane. Laura: She does, which is responsible. But I think the core principle—that your identity is what you say it is, and that you have the right to define it, change it, and explore it—is a deeply trans-inclusive and non-binary-inclusive idea at its heart. The book's central message is about self-sovereignty over your own identity, which is a universal principle for the entire LGBTQ+ community. It argues against anyone else, or any external rulebook, telling you who you are. Sophia: That makes sense. The specific examples might be rooted in a cis-lesbian/bi experience, but the underlying philosophy is much broader. It’s about trusting your own evolution. Laura: Exactly. It's permission to be a work in progress.

Sophia: Okay, so once you're more comfortable with the not-knowing, or at least with your current version of knowing, how do you even begin to talk about it with other people? The whole coming out thing feels like this huge, dramatic movie scene you have to get right. Laura: And King-Miller’s advice is basically: please, do not try to make it a movie scene! In fact, she shares her own coming-out story as a perfect example of what not to do. It’s hilarious and deeply, deeply awkward. Sophia: Oh, do tell. I love a good 'what not to do' story. Laura: So, it’s Christmas Eve. She’s home from college, visiting her family in Denver. She’s in a new, serious relationship with a woman named Charlie, who is coming to visit for New Year's. She decides, impulsively, that she has to tell her dad and two brothers right now. Sophia: Where does this happen? Please don't say at the dinner table with the entire extended family. Laura: Worse. In the car. On the way to their traditional Christmas Eve lunch. They are literally trapped in a moving vehicle. Sophia: Oh no. That is a tactical nightmare. There's no escape. Laura: None. So she just blurts it out. She says, "I have something to tell you, and don't be dicks about it." Then she explains that her new partner, Charlie, is a girl. Her younger brother, Kevin, just goes, "So, are you a lesbian?" And she says something like, "Well, maybe bisexual or queer." And then, the killer moment. Her dad just says, "Okay,"... and then immediately changes the subject to, "Did you get Grandma a Christmas card?" Sophia: Wow. The sheer, unadulterated awkwardness of that. The anticlimax is almost worse than a big dramatic fight. Just... crickets and Christmas cards. Laura: Exactly. And she uses this story to break down the common mistakes. Mistake one: coming out in a moving vehicle. Mistake two: doing it under a time constraint. Mistake three: making it about her partner's identity, not her own. She says she should have used "I" statements, like "I am queer," or "I am dating a woman." Sophia: It’s so practical. It demystifies the whole process. So what’s her alternative? What's the "right" way to do it? Laura: She offers a really clear, four-step process. Step one: State your identity. Just say it. "I'm gay." or "I'm bisexual." Step two: Explain what it means to you, briefly. "For me, that means I'm attracted to women." Step three: Outline what, if anything, will change. "You'll be meeting my girlfriend soon." And step four: Set expectations for how they should behave. "I expect you to treat her with respect, just like any other partner." Sophia: That is so clear and empowering. It turns a potentially emotional, messy confession into a structured, respectful conversation. It gives you control. But what about the worst-case scenario? What if they don't react with awkward silence, but with cruelty? Laura: She's very direct about this. She says, "If someone is cruel to you or cuts you out of their life because you came out to them, they are the one with the problem, not you." Her advice is to prioritize your own self-respect. You enforce your boundaries. You can say, "I won't be spoken to like that," and leave. It’s about recognizing that you deserve to be treated with dignity, and you can't control their reaction, but you can control your response. Sophia: That feels especially important when she talks about the challenges for bi people. She mentions the whole "bi now, gay later" stereotype. It's like you have to come out over and over again. Laura: Yes, she calls it a "continuous process." If you're a bi woman dating a man, you're read as straight. If you're dating a woman, you're read as a lesbian. You're constantly having to re-assert your identity. The book really validates how exhausting that can be and gives you the language to push back against that erasure. It’s a powerful acknowledgment of a very specific struggle.

Laura: And that self-respect she talks about in the coming out chapter is really the foundation for everything that comes next—actually building a life, finding your people, and navigating the dating world. Sophia: Right, because once you're out, you have to figure out... where are all the other queer people? The book talks about subculture, right? Things like "gaydar" and stereotypes. Laura: It does, and in a really fun way. She says queer culture is "optional but powerful." You don't have to get a specific haircut or wear flannel to be a valid member of the community. She tells a great story about her partner going to a salon right after coming out and telling the stylist, "Make me look like a lesbian." Sophia: I love that. It’s a rite of passage for some people. A way of signaling to the world, "I'm here, see me." Laura: Exactly. It's about visibility. But she quickly pivots from the fun, cultural signifiers to the really high-stakes stuff: dating and relationships. And this is where I think the book offers one of its most brilliant, memorable pieces of advice. She calls it the "Penelope Principle." Sophia: The Penelope Principle. I'm intrigued. What is it? Laura: It comes from a story about her friend, Penelope, a lesbian in her fifties. Penelope shows up to the author's party alone, and when asked where her girlfriend is, she says, completely unshaken, that they broke up a few hours ago. She just says it wasn't working, and she's too old to waste her time on someone who doesn't make her happy. Sophia: Wow. I want to embroider that on a pillow. "I'm too old to waste my time on someone who doesn't make me happy." That's a life philosophy. Laura: It is! And that's the Penelope Principle. King-Miller boils it down to this: "If you’re not happy, it’s not worth your time—end of discussion." It’s so simple but so revolutionary. It's the ultimate permission slip to leave a relationship, a job, a situation that is just "good enough." Sophia: That cuts through so much of the guilt and obligation we feel to "make things work." Does she give any other really concrete red flags to watch out for in dating? Laura: Oh, absolutely. The list is sharp and practical. Watch out for someone who hates all their exes—it usually means they can't take responsibility. Be wary of someone your friends universally dislike; they often see things you don't. And a huge one: someone who pressures you, whether for sex, for commitment, or to change. Sophia: And she has that amazing, blunt quote about it. Something about... other fish in the sea? Laura: The even better version! She says, when you're thinking of bailing on a relationship with red flags, just remember: "There are always other tits in the sea." Sophia: (laughing) Okay, that is an all-timer. It's funny, but the message is so clear: don't let physical attraction blind you to serious problems. Your well-being comes first. Laura: It perfectly captures the book's tone. It's warm, it's direct, it's a little bit profane, and it's 100% on your side.

Laura: When you pull back, you can really see this beautiful arc in the book. It starts with giving yourself permission to be a question mark, to not have your identity perfectly figured out. Sophia: It frees you from the pressure of a fixed label. Laura: Then, it gives you the practical tools to share that identity with the world in a way that is safe and respects your own boundaries. It turns coming out from a terrifying performance into a managed process. Sophia: And finally, it equips you to build a life and relationships that are genuinely joyful, not just "good enough." It gives you the Penelope Principle as your north star. Laura: Exactly. It's a roadmap that goes from the internal to the social to the relational. It’s not just about surviving as a queer person; it’s about thriving and demanding happiness. The final chapter is literally titled, "It's Not Good Enough Until It's Amazing." Sophia: It feels less like a rulebook and more like a permission slip. A permission slip to be confused, to be careful, to be joyful, and to have incredibly high standards for your own happiness. It makes me wonder, for our listeners, what's one "good enough" thing in their life they could start questioning after hearing this? Laura: That's a great question. It doesn't have to be a relationship. It could be a job, a friendship, a habit. What are you settling for? We'd love to hear your thoughts. Find us on our socials and share what resonated with you from this discussion. Sophia: This is Aibrary, signing off.