I then think that the absence of words is as revelatory as their presence.
I then think that I hardly use the word lesbica when I describe myself in Italy.
I then think I use a word that has no heritage or context in my country to describe myself and my identity.
I then think that maybe I don't use the word lesbica because it feels dirty, offensive and that perhaps it makes me feel uncomfortable.
I then think that's fucked up.
I then think I should use it more often.
I then think that before I thought of myself as queer, before I even began to understand what queer is, I thought of myself as a lesbian.
I then think about my last summer in Italy. Whilst at the bar watching the Italian women's football team playing against Australia during the world cup, Serena asked me how I identify.
I then think I didn't really know how to answer, but I told her as a woman and as a lesbian, and that I also liked the word dyke.
I then think how it was the first time in history that a women's game was broadcast on a channel belonging to Italy’s national television.