I recently reconnected with a cherished friend with whom I hadn’t spoken in about 12 years. You know friendship is true when it’s as if no time has passed and you cackle like you always did, sharing dreams and fears.

We have done all the catching up on family, kids and significant others. We’ve reminisced about old times and combed through each other’s IG pages. She’s a proud (still young) grandmother now and relishes the role. And, as you may recall, I’m carving out a new life in a new country.

I am actually redoing her website and helping with her personal branding; she says that God keeps bringing her the people she needs. There may be truth to that statement because she is a published author, and I’m currently on that journey.

In a recent conversation, I asked some clarifying questions as I made tweaks on the site. With an upcoming engagement in Vegas, I am creating some branded materials for her as well. One of those questions had to do with her title or headline.

“I noticed on your current site, you use the term LGBTQ. Shouldn’t we update it? Aren’t there letters missing?”

To this, she sucked her teeth. “Girl, I can’t keep up. I guess you should update it to be politically correct… but also, I don’t want to leave anyone out.”

“Is it a lowercase i because I’ve seen it written that way?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied wearily. “I’ve also seen it capitalized.”

“Well Monika, I need to know what you want.” I began to Google and read aloud the results. I wanted to know what the I and A stood for and wasn’t going to lean on my friend for the education.

As I read silently,  she interrupted me, “Add the I and A in all caps, but that’s it.”

I switched tabs and began to make the changes. “What about the plus?”

“No! Look. I’ve heard about 2S and AA… Where does it end? Like I tell people, ‘I’m an old dyke chile.’ And people don’t like when I use that word but that’s who I am.”

“Okay.”

“Look,” she explained. “There are some generational differences within the gay community and there are some newer voices that I believe are extreme.”

“Like….”

“I was doing publicity for my latest book and the interviewer asked my opinion about trans men being allowed on women’s sports teams. I said, ‘No, absolutely not!’ How are you gonna say it’s fair to these women who have been training all their lives that a man – cuz that’s what he is biologically – can compete against them. Sports are separate for a reason. Are there some women who can beat men, yes, but that’s still not fair. And no, he doesn’t belong in their locker room either!” She sucked her teeth. I giggled because I could imagine her eyes rolling back into her head.

“I totally agree, about the sports and the locker room/ bathrooms.”

She exhaled. “And don’t get me started about ‘cis women’ issue. That’s another land mine.”

“OMG. Yes! I asked my daughter about it and I was glad not to be on the ‘wrong’ side of the issue; she usually keeps me up-to-date. She said, ‘Mommy, they’re doing too much! We’re women, that’s it. I’m not changing what I call myself.”

Monika wholeheartedly agreed. “I told another interviewer that I am not referencing my sister, my straight girlfriends, as such. They are straight or heterosexual women.”

“How about us are simply women, you included. Women share power and struggle that bond us, that cannot be understood by other people. I take issue with being made to feel like I’m an enemy because I don’t use that term.”

We were silent for a beat.

“I know people want to be seen. I know what that’s like, but people are causing unnecessary divisions. Like my sister said, we’re losing some allies….”

I’m glad that we had the conversation. Later, she confided that she really wanted to know my opinion. I was surprised; I thought hers was more important. I guess we all need to listen because that’s how we hear one another and move forward, together.