Sarah & Alyss

STEVIE BOWEN

August 23rd, 2023

Bushwick’s Lesbian “It” Couple on Couples Therapy, Queer Judaism, Community, and the “Mom and Dad” Aesthetic

Situated between lined new grey box buildings and bustling corners of generational communities sits a loft in an old warehouse. Steel stairs lead two flights up to a long hall lined with steel doors. Golden gates to artists, entrepreneurs, and what’s left of Bushwick’s creatives seeking solace from the city. I walk along the straight corridor with long rectangular windows flanking my right, until I arrive at a steel door that a personal trainer and artist walked in six years ago.

Sarah Dimbert and Alyss Odle. The stars of this romantic comedy. “Mom and Dad” of Bushwick’s lesbian group chat. Nicknames dubbed by their friends that Sarah and Alyss humbly laugh at. “Sometimes we really see that.” But it’s their straightforward authenticity that makes the parental status an undeniable fit.

The steel door opens to an eager husky at the feet of Sarah who smiles as bright as the light beaming from the industrial windows. I enter through the golden gate and immediately understand the “mom and dad” aesthetic. A welcoming overstimulation of warmth and personality that works. Wooden floors and beams shape the open multilevel living space. From crevice to ceiling, the studio is filled with memorabilia, art, and curated, without being too curated, furniture. Between the hidden bed in the left corner and an indoor garden of overflowing leaves walks Alyss from a mossy green couch. Her arms are wide, ready to hug me with magic relaxation powers. 

We settle on the second level about two feet up from the floor. A cozy elevation in front of the nonchalant bed and carpenter wall of various hanging hardware. Sarah and Alyss find a spot on a long leather floor couch. Sitting just close enough to give learned space, while still in touching rage. They sink in the leather with an ease only found with familiarity. Alyss tosses a heavy-duty black bone to Willoughby, their New York apartment-sized husky, to calm his fomo. He scurries across the wood floors squeaking his toy before deciding to lay on the step to the second level. Finally laying his head on the second floor as if giving us the okay to begin.

Sarah and Alyss’ story starts like any New York Millennial rom-com, at a concept store in Chelsea called Story. The year is 2016 and Sarah is working at the store between college and holiday breaks at home. Their co-workers highly anticipated, and intuitively encouraged, Alyss and Sarah’s inevitable meeting. With gleaming reviews, “We were besties” says Alyss, “we were best friends from the moment we met” Sarah eagerly confirms. 

Their friendship included daily ice cream trips after work and “ridiculous stuff.” A week before Sarah left for a trip to Chicago, they started seeing each other every day. Time together never felt enough. The weakening friend zone dissipated at the end of the week at a dinner in the West Village. Sarah and Alyss exchange looks deciding who gets to tell the story.

“You got a lot of battery?!” asks Alyss as Sarah explains what they ordered at the dinner.

Before Sarah details how they cooked the half-chicken, Alyss sarcastically takes the reins of the story. Over the bone-in chicken, they agree to marry each other… if they are both still single when Sarah turns 24. Though, at this point in the courting, it still had not occurred to Alyss that Sarah may be romantically interested. A reoccurring theme of the beginning of their relationship—knowing something is going on between them, but neither fully acknowledging it.

“[A month before] that night, I walked her home before I got on the train, and I had my jacket. She look[ed] so cold and I asked ‘Do you want my jacket? You can put it on until we get to your house.’ She’s like ‘no’.”

Sarah stubbornly laughs, “She kept asking.”

Tension and lover’s hesitation grew as Sarah hugged Alyss for “literally six straight minutes… squeezing me to death” as she waited for her Uber. 

Their connection was undeniable. Still is as they nestle closer on the couch. “We did things for each other that I think felt special, nice, and different,” Sarah recalled about the birthday party Alyss threw her at their go-to restaurant near Union Square. The theme was Sarah’s Saturday written on a 2010s coveted Snapchat geotag Alyss designed with blue flames.

Despite the blue flame birthday dinner a month before, the aha moment was their first kiss when Sarah returned from Chicago after their week-long first date. Sarah, the dreamer, and Alyss, the realist, go lovingly head-to-head in their recollection when I ask them how they made it official.

“It happened so naturally,” Sarah starts. “But I remember we were going to Alyss’ friend’s birthday, and I was meeting her whole crew for the first time. We are on our way there and I asked, ‘What are you going to introduce me as?’ And she was like, ‘My friend Sarah.’”

Alyss shakes her head with a smile, “I don’t recall this at all. This feels fabricated. I remember it being less heavy than that version. Something about seeing other people came up, and [I said] ‘Should we see other people?’ And you were like, ‘No.’ That’s how it went.” 

With Sarah’s matching sarcasm, “This is the same conversation.”

To avail, Alyss introduces Sarah as her girlfriend in the first introduction. Debunking the need for any formal what are we conversation. 

The beginning of their romantic relationship was nothing less than cinematic. It was Sarah’s first relationship with a girl and Alyss’ first relationship. Sarah was an Orthodox Jew from Chicago and Alyss had been out as a lesbian 10 to 15 years prior. There were moments they almost called it quits in a roach-infested alley. Very New York. 

Alyss didn’t want the relationship to blow up Sarah’s life. Sarah thought, “fuck that.” But the reality that her life would drastically change created immense pressure. She was in college at the time, living in an apartment that her parents paid for. Coming out would end the financial support. 

It was a reality far from Alyss’ who was “always independent.” A life between Miami and New York, Alyss built a life focused on art and self-expression. Friendships took president, while dating remained casual. Partly because, Alyss laughs, the “troth that lesbians are incestuous.” Life for Alyss was and remains through her creative lens.

But Sarah and Alyss’ differences built their foundation. Instead of doubting their future, they “took everything as it happened [with] each person that found out or whatever situation we were going to.” Coming out as a couple was a slow burn. Their confidence grew with time and family. 

“My family is really nice and sweet, amazing with anyone. That’s just how my family is. Very community-based energy living in Bed-Stuy. It’s just how we were raised. So, I was never worried. And I think part of being around my family was a pretty big deal [for our growth].”

Alyss’ family was a pillar of her upbringing in Brooklyn. It was them who laid the fresh pavement for her and Sarah’s relationship. Sarah found acceptance in the times she thought she’d lost it. “My grandmother was always like, ‘How’s Sarah.’ [With] my cousins, my brother, my sister, it just was all very natural.” Their new relationship seemed smooth sailing. However, Sarah’s inner world was bubbling with stress and self-consciousness. But there came a time when her love for Alyss took precedence over the loss. Sarah straightens up. “No one’s going to come in the way of that.”

Alyss validates Sarah’s conflicting feelings about coming out. “It’s hard because I think there’s that idea that everyone is going to just disappear.” Sarah and Alyss watch each other speak about coming out with visibility. I can feel their cathartic release, while they discuss telling the world about their relationship. Showing authenticity as its original definition. I ask them what advice they would give to someone entering an LGBTQ+ relationship for the first time. They respond like mom and dad.

“You might not know yourself as well as you think,” Sarah says softly. She continues by quoting Alyss—something she does throughout the interview. “Alyss says, and said then, ‘It really starts with me… you go, at the end of your life, into that box by yourself and nobody’s there. Anyone who ever [said] you shouldn’t do something, you should be a type of way, you should have this type of job, or this type of husband, they’re not going to be there.’”

She goes on to say, “So, if you’re going to go in that box, regretting your decision because you made them based on other people, then you should rethink how you’re living because you get one shot.” 

“People are afraid of the idea of a relationship—any form of gay relationship—sometimes in the beginning,” Alyss adds. “It’s easier to [say] I want to have sex with this person. The body wants what it wants. People use that as an excuse to not be happy, then wait their whole life [to come out].”

Their apartment feels like it’s giving us a big hug. “It’s sad to see sometimes. It’s that idea that people won’t take that leap to be in love or even experience trying to find a feeling that is there because they want to fit into compulsory heterosexuality.”

The mood rises again as Alyss contemplates the possibility of her and Sarah not being together. A stereotypical testy subject that gets the two of them giggling. Sarah remembers sitting with Alyss a few days ago in their studio reminiscing about how far they’ve come in their relationship.

“What do you think we would be doing right now [if we never met]?”

Sarah answers her own question. “I don’t even know anymore.”

Despite having different coming out experiences, the two of them validate each other’s truths. Using the common denominator of following what feels natural. Sarah adds, “The truth is for every single person you might lose. There’s going to be somebody on the other side that becomes a part of your world.” Smiling, “You’re never going to be alone; you’re just going to build a different life.

“And now we throw lesbian parties!” Alyss says goofily.

It’s important to note the crucial cast members also starring in their rom-com. Sarah and Alyss’ ears perk as the word community joins the conversation. A subject that has them excitedly shifting on the leather. They proudly share the importance of surrounding themselves with authentic, understanding, and supportive people. Aka being able to cancel plans because life happens. In their terms, the community is “people who acknowledge your struggles and are here for you.” 

For the people who don’t serve them, Sarah takes another lesson from Alyss’ wisdom Rolodex. Sarah admits she has a hard time letting go. Alyss rebuttals confidently, “I don’t have a hard time with that.” Alyss listens to the pit of her stomach—the intuition everyone keeps telling us to follow. “You have to protect yourself; you have to take care of yourself, and I don’t think that anyone owes anyone else their presence or their time… the most respectful thing people can do is give people grace at that moment.”

Sarah jumps in her seat, trying, and failing, to explain a TikTok of a woman in Bushwick screaming that is “legit [what Alyss is saying].” Unphased and smiling, Alyss continues. “Take care of yourself. The more you can do that in your friendships, with your family, in a relationship, you’re always going to be better off.”

With an obviously strong community building around them, I ask if the pressure of being the perfect couple, “mom and dad”, gets overwhelming. 

“We’re a disaster,” Sarah sarcastically responds. 

“The most perfect that anybody can be is just really authentic in love,” Alyss says sweetly to Sarah’s spice. 

So, what makes their relationship so relatable? Healthy fighting. They’re not afraid to be straightforward with each other and they don’t care if anyone knows it. If you ask them if they fight, they reply, “Of course. We are two human beings. [Our families] are loud, of course.”

What many see as the end of relationships, Sarah sees as progress. She reaches into a past conversation she had with a friend after her first fight with Alyss years ago. Her friend suggested she shouldn’t be with a person she fights with. Sarah took the advice with a grain of salt. Instead, she tag-teamed with Alyss and actively tried. Learning, nurturing, and putting in “constant effort.” Next time you think they have it figured out, they’ll say in unison, “No, we don’t. We try.”

And go to couples therapy. 

Relationship therapy sort of fell into their laps. They started sessions with Alyss’ cousin and marriage strategist, Shivonne. She helped them, as they say, in “the pivotal stages” of their relationship. It guided them through “the ridiculous stuff that other people probably breakup over.” After Shivonne came couples therapy. The one piece of relationship advice Alyss and Sarah will always give. 

“Couples therapy is super major because you come from wherever you come from, and [the other person] comes from wherever they’re from, and their experiences, traumas, wins, or losses… whatever the case is creates this very big personality,” Alyss explains. “Then people meet and they’re bringing [together] these two very separate experiences beyond the thing they have in common. [It’s important] being able to understand someone else, what makes them who they are, what hurts them, and what makes them feel great.” 

“The pivotal fight,” Sarah adds, “is a couple’s most raw state.” Couples therapy taught them tools that navigated them through the harder times. I can tell the tools are working, as I sit in awe on the second-floor level. It’s refreshing witnessing confident vulnerability. In the earthy apartment, the word therapy can breathe. Maybe it’s the willowing green leaves around us, but the air feels clearer here. Sarah continues, “We grew up in very similar households, lots of screaming, and a lot of bad communicating, [but] our reactions are very different.” Same but different. A relationship formula perfected by therapy. Fighting that leads to growth. The results I am witnessing now. Two women sitting together in a loving reality they fiercely created.

Such as life, therapy ebbs and flows. Alyss compares it to the gym. An analogy that gives a slight nod to Sarah’s career as a personal trainer. They’re wrapped up in each other’s subconscious… “I’m very much for people taking breaks from relationship therapy. It’s like if you take a break from the gym. You can always go back.” 

They outgrew their therapist but found a Rabbi. 

Judaism was a part of Sarah and Alyss’ story before their story even began. Sarah flashes a smile and glances at Alyss as I ask her about her Israeli Rabbi experience in 2013. While spending a year in the country before heading to college, Sarah found herself face-to-face with her future. “There’s a belief [Rabbis] know some kind of belief that you don’t. They’re tapped in because of their spiritual state of being.” Sarah piggybacked on her friend’s Rabbi appointment, then found herself in the chair in front of him. “He told me I was going to have a hard time having children. [I thought] great, this is awesome. So happy I came along for this… Maybe it’s not true. I don’t know if I’ll have a hard time having children.”

“But then I met Alyss,” Sarah softly smiles at Alyss. “So, we will have a hard time having children naturally… [But] I’m happy to be here.”

Judaism has remained a constant in Sarah’s life, but her relationship with the religion continues to find new meaning. Alyss was the first non-Jew Sarah considered dating. Sharing the same religious views with a partner was a priority for her.

It may seem from the outside she ignored her ideals when she began dating Alyss. But it was a choice that allowed her religion to be seen and understood. “When we met, [Alyss] was so open, and so, ‘this is your culture, this is your religion… I’m on board.’” They would celebrate Shabbat together. And, as their relationship grew, Alyss encouraged Sarah to invite people over to help celebrate. 

Except it wasn’t what Sarah expected at first. “I felt lonely. Then, when we had people over, I found myself explaining what we were doing in such a way. [It felt] like I [was] just putting on a show.” Sarah pauses for a second, allowing Alyss to brighten the view. “I don’t think it was necessarily putting on a show because the most beautiful part, was there were friends and family [that thought] I’m going to come and I’m going to celebrate with you.”

Sarah grows with enthusiasm, “And it’s not even their holiday!”

Alyss recently converted to Judaism. Sarah calls her “the super Jew.” But it wasn’t Alyss’ first experience with religion. Tracing back to her grandparents, Alyss’ family lived close to a Jewish community in Guyana, South America. The influence continued when they migrated to Bed-Stuy, New York. “My grandfather used to go to synagogue… but my parents were practicing Christians,” Alyss explained. I ask her what inspired her to convert, if not only for Sarah. It’s “the cultural humanity aspect” of religion that Alyss loves. To explain what she means, she compares it to the Life of Pi. Sarah admits, “I’ll be honest. I read the first chapter…”

But for Alyss, the Life of Pi validated her conversion experience. “He just goes and learns about all these things… I felt that way. What really connects? And Judaism really connects even before Sarah. I learned more and when I was done, it was time to convert. Let’s do the dunky dunks!” Alyss nonchalantly recalls referencing her conversion course with Rabbi Jon Leener. 

The actual Rabbi they found. 

During the course, Sarah and Alyss attended holidays and Shabbat dinners hosted by Rabbi Jon Leener. It was there they met “an insane amount of lesbian Jews,” Alyss adds. They lean into each other with laughter. Though the experience was eye-opening, unlearning the rigid practices from her childhood was hard for Sarah. She felt lost in her old community, but the conversion course became a new bridge to her religion. “It [was] just me and Alyss living on our island.” Until they became a part of a new Jewish community. One that was inclusive.

“Meeting so many different faces and people who come from similar backgrounds, and more religious backgrounds than mine, seeing where they’re at now, and how happy they are, and what their life looks like, is fascinating and kind of empowering for me… and I don’t think it’s just about being Jewish. I think it’s about having community.”

Now Sarah and Alyss’ Jewish holidays include texts from those they met at the conversion course. Instead of a show, their Shabbat dinners feel like an immersive experience of culture and community. Shared with those who understand, and friends who embrace their religion. For LGBTQ+ members seeking their space in religion, Sarah advises, “Find your people. Meeting other people and learning about other people’s circumstances really does help. [You] think you’re alone at different points in life, and you’re not. Find places that feel safe and open.” 

This is the overarching theme of Sarah and Alyss’ rom-com. Community. And of course, New York. As we sit in the calmness of their wooden studio, Pride fills the streets of the NYC June below us. It seems only logical to ask Bushwick’s lesbian “mom and dad” what their go-to Pride month spots are. 

Sarah says without hesitation, “Maite. Always. We love them.” Referencing their neighborhood spot. On the corner of Central Ave and Suydam Street, Lesbian pride flows from Maite’s windows. Their menu features a drink called Bushlicker, and they serve food that warms even the most lost souls. Maite is the core of Sarah and Alyss’ community.

“I personally am into parties, not places,” Alyss adds. She names off her favorites, Maite, Yalla, and the Woods. Followed by parties Brooklyn side. Occasionally the couple crosses the river to the OG spots like Cubbyhole and Henrietta. She laughs. “This is through lesbian lines because I don’t know what the boys do.” 

Sarah brings up yet another meme. “There’s this meme of Squidward that says ‘when you wake up on June 1st’ and his eyes are wide open with rainbow eyes. I swear that’s how it is… June is such a good time.” 

Alyss translates the Squidward meme, “It’s like what are the real [pride parties] and what’s actually going to be the community. Not Pride by Chase.” She continues, “It’s seeing your people. It’s being open to having a great time, which I think is hard for certain people in the community year-round… If you go to a cowboy party, you’re going to feel comfortable. You go to Yalla, you feel comfortable. If I go to a Pride cook-out, I might get on the grill.”

“Grill Dad,” Sarah crowns Alyss. 

They don’t take their ability to celebrate their community for granted. “A comfortable atmosphere is a big part of it for me. Right now [with] the political climate. We know people who are fleeing states because they don’t feel comfortable. Being a part of the [New York] community is such a blessing to go to parties and feel that energy of people feeling safe, happy, and dancing.” 

“We’re so lucky to live here,” Sarah says. “When you see another lesbian couple, you smile.” Both take a moment to bathe in lesbian comradery. They acknowledge the work that’s allowed them to be outwardly themselves. “There’s still some way to go,” Alyss adds. What makes it worthwhile for them is seeing younger generations continuing to go to places like Cubbyhole. “Seeing these places prevail is important to me. We saw King Princess there. That’s awesome because then people are going to go to Cubbyhole. It stays alive.”

Different generations within the lesbian community clearly inspire Sarah and Alyss as individuals and as a partnership. Their New York rom-com is essentially told through serendipitous lesbian moments. Sarah becomes nostalgic, “When we first started dating, we were walking on West 4th holding hands and this woman pulled up next to us [on a bike] and said we were so lucky. She never got to walk around with her girlfriend at our age and hold hands.”

“She was happy for us—it was very sweet,” Alyss adds to the story while remembering she got the name of the woman’s tattoo artist. 

A simple interaction that helped guide the way for Sarah’s coming out. “At the time, I was having an internal crisis over being gay. How fucking lucky am I that when I decided to come out, the entire crisis was internal?… I would imagine [for the women on the bike] it’s a nice experience to see that your hard work paved the way for others. The thing you fought for… you won.”

“Not quite yet. But we’re getting there,” Alyss says with soft conviction. 

They both let out a cheeky grin when I ask them about their engagement. I know I’m in for another banter story. “Alyss asked me multiple times,” Sarah laughs. Marriage was never in the books for Alyss, though she contemplated adopting children. “I thought I’d be good [at] raising a kid.” Her plans changed when she learned Sarah’s five-year plan. “She just knows exactly how many [kids]. This idea.”

Their different ideas of marriage didn’t stop Alyss from asking her multiple times to marry her. “She said no.”

“I didn’t say no. I said hold that thought,” Sarah says, correcting Alyss. 

There wasn’t any pressure on who popped the question first. But Alyss knew she wouldn’t propose again. “Alyss was so over that,” Sarah says flashing a smile. “So, I said, why don’t you wait until you’re ready? And then you ask me and let’s see what I say…” Alyss sarcastically replies.

“And then I did…” Sarah smugly declares. “It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. It was going to be extraordinary. I had the ring sitting for so long. Then we did it on the couch.” At the time Sarah and Alyss were dealing with family troubles. “In some sense, it felt like perfect timing. Because if there’s one person, I would like to go through dark times [with]. It was definitely Alyss.” 

As for the marrying part, they’re waiting until it feels right. “Sarah still has that straight girl marriage [idea],” Alyss jokes. Alyss suggested paying the $45 to just go do the thing. But what they can agree on is New York. “We just want to have a party. We kind of settled on something where we meet in the middle. It’s the same thing as the proposal. Just very low-key.” Getting married in New York is the only location that makes sense for the lesbian rom-com couple.

“We’re going to live here forever… we love it. We love how chaotic it is.”

Alyss chimes in, “I’m not going anywhere.”

To which Sarah open-endedly asks, “Where are we going?”

The apartment starts to glow an amber hue through the wall-to-wall windows. A fleeting summer afternoon haze covers the room as the interview begins its descent. With so much emphasis on community, I ask how they find time for Mom and Dad. For a while, time together was therapy. Now on a gym break, Alyss takes the lead in implementing uninterrupted plans. “I’m very anti-phone.” For a couple that works together, quality time is meant for relaxing and not overthinking work or social obligations. A recharge for their relationship.

I feel lucky to be privy to this relaxing environment they created at home. But quality time for them doesn’t always look like this. They sometimes feel just as rejuvenated being together with their friends. “I think we’ve become people who share people. Our worlds collided. We genuinely like each other. We hang out together with other people.”

Sarah makes her point with another cheesy example. “I was looking at Alyss’ Instagram and I saw how many people we both follow… I know it’s so stupid, but it felt like [another] weird aha moment—we really created this world together.” 

Their word comes up again. Community. They're extremely proud of how they managed to merge their friend groups. “It’s always been my thing with life… I’m about people all being together. Like, what are we going to do? Have this awkward wedding where no one has met?” Alyss contemplates. “I don’t think it’s Sarah’s friends or my friends. They are all our friends…. Unless we break up. Then there’s a custody battle.”

I ask who’s taking Willoughby in said custody battle.

“Me” Alyss proclaims with no objection from Sarah. Or Willoughby, who has moved to his red Filson bed. 

Before they sink too far into the leather couch, I ask what their favorite thing is about each other.

“That’s a can of worms,” Sarah says about Alyss. “How supportive she is. If you come to Alyss and [want] to convince everyone that the world is flat [again]. She’ll be like, what do you need?”

“I’m not a flat earther but that’s interesting,” Alyss says intriguingly. “If it’s not dumb, yes. [I will always help].”

But it’s true, Alyss is the neighbor who knows the name of the guy down the street and brings him hot food. In the admiring words of Sarah, she’s willing, understanding, and open-minded. I turn to ask Alyss the same question.

“My favorite thing about Sarah is her can of worms.” Laughter slices through the late afternoon haze of the apartment. Willoughby lifts his head to the noise. He can’t miss out. “She’s very sweet even when she shouldn’t be. It’s refreshing and, in my opinion, what the world needs right now. Sarah is 100% authentic… unless you catch her in traffic and cut her off.” 

We take a moment to digest the last six years. Every chapter of their relationship, until now, hanging from the walls and resting on the tables. My final question is what they’re most proud of. “Sitting in this apartment,” Sarah begins, “I’m really proud of where we’re at. We’re going through a thing with our landlord and theoretically considering moving.” A daunting idea for a couple who prioritizes community. “[We need] a space that is between multiple trains that we can get around from and we can be out and about from.”

Alyss looks at her inquisitively, “You’re proud of the train?”

“I’m proud of how we’ve managed to navigate so much. We’ve been through hell and back and probably will again, but I think that’s life. I’m proud of the way we handled it and handle it every day.”

“We built a life,” Alyss concludes, looking from Sarah to the husky laying on the floor in their apartment behind the silver steel door. 

Since this interview, Alyss and Sarah made a bittersweet move to another apartment. Located in Bushwick to withhold their namesake. Grill Dad is still available for Brooklyn cookouts. Willoughby has a new perch on a window, so he can watch the world they created together from above. Instead of behind a silver steel door, their creative minds live at their creative lab, Gently—the power couple’s creative collective launched in February 2023. For the rest of their story, look out for a New York lesbian rom-com about a Jewish kettlebell trainer and Brooklyn artist coming to a theatre near you…

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