Oh HAI, I'm queer
Oct. 12th, 2009 10:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
highlyeccentricApparently someone decided today is (inter)national Coming Out Day.
I wasn't going to say anything, because what is there to say? I am, technically, Out. I told my parents, and I got a hug for it. Much awkwardness, but a hug. And a reassurance that they still love me - which was slightly alarming, because for all the awkwardness, I had never considered that they might not.
I told my brother, who said "you're not bi!", having somehow not equated previous "oh, there's this girl" conversations with queerness. And then I told him I'd told the parents, and he said "YOU WHAT??? WHY WOULD YOU DO A THING LIKE THAT???" and flailed so hard I nearly swerved onto the road shoulder.
I told my friends. Most of them knew anyway (even my parents knew). I told the friends who could be relied on not to make a fuss of it. I told the three or four whose opinions counted but who I'd expected to flip, and they didn't (responses where, in this order: "No worries, mate"; "Yeah, I knew - what do you mean you're not sleeping withkayloulee???"; "I think it's a phase all girls go through at uni"; and nothing much).
Allow me to quote someone more eloquent (thingswithwings):
I moved towns. I thought I could just... be Out. New people, new place, I'm Out. Except I don't look particularly queer (according to whatever bats definition of "looking queer" people seem to have).
And I've discovered it's not that easy. That I'll still have to face up to new friends, to colleagues, to strangers, to people whose homophobic drivel I can't just sit through, and I'll still have to do it with the same sick feeling. That doesn't go away. It gets worse. If your own mother looks at you blankly because she knew anyway and wishes you never spoke up, and your father has to reassure you that he still loves you, what chance have you with complete strangers?
I'm afraid of coming out. I'm afraid of having to do the Bisexual Backpeddle. I know that my newness, my bi-ness, my never having so much as kissed a girl, invalidates me in the eyes of your average straight punter. I'm hesitant with other queers, because the Bisexual Backpeddle still has to be done there, and the Inexperience Backpeddle, and the Why Yes I Did Come Out While Living In A Women's College Backpeddle.
I used to be really good at answering back. I used to be able to out-exegesis any fundamentalist I encountered, and I used to be happy just to have put the idea in their heads that, just maybe, Jesus doesn't hate gay people. Well, I have no right to exegesis any more (and much of it was twisty bullshit. St Paul was a sexist homophobic git, albeit a very smart and well-written one. DEAL). And it's a whole damn lot easier to argue hypothetical theology than to defend yourself, your friends, your lovers if you have them, to people who think they don't understand because "it'd just be gross to kiss a girl". (What am I supposed to say to that? I don't know, I've never tried it, BUT I'D SURE LIKE TO.)
Oh Hai. I'm queer. And you, you straight person who doesn't actually think teh queers are immoral; you straight person who doesn't actually think it'd be gross to kiss another girl (or guy) even though it's not your thing; you straight person who *could* argue that point without putting yourself, your identity, your dreams on the line: for glod's sake, do it. Forget about whether or not you have the right to speak for teh queers. Do it anyway. If you get it wrong, if someone has to pipe up and correct your defence of us, then ten points to you: by being wrong you've made it safe for someone to up and speak for themselves.
~
Coming another day, when it's not bedtime: I Used To Be Homophobic (but thought I was all cool and liberal-minded), or, How My Default Straight Assumption Really Bit Me In The Arse
I wasn't going to say anything, because what is there to say? I am, technically, Out. I told my parents, and I got a hug for it. Much awkwardness, but a hug. And a reassurance that they still love me - which was slightly alarming, because for all the awkwardness, I had never considered that they might not.
I told my brother, who said "you're not bi!", having somehow not equated previous "oh, there's this girl" conversations with queerness. And then I told him I'd told the parents, and he said "YOU WHAT??? WHY WOULD YOU DO A THING LIKE THAT???" and flailed so hard I nearly swerved onto the road shoulder.
I told my friends. Most of them knew anyway (even my parents knew). I told the friends who could be relied on not to make a fuss of it. I told the three or four whose opinions counted but who I'd expected to flip, and they didn't (responses where, in this order: "No worries, mate"; "Yeah, I knew - what do you mean you're not sleeping with
kayloulee???"; "I think it's a phase all girls go through at uni"; and nothing much).Allow me to quote someone more eloquent (
thingswithwings):
Because coming out is not only never finished in the sense that you have to do it over and over and over again - it's also never finished in that saying "I'm queer" or "I'm a lesbian" or "I don't date men" is not and cannot be the end of it - it is always followed by an excruciating session of having to explain (or having to refuse to explain) your sexual habits to friends, family members, and complete fucking strangers. So have you ever had sex with a man? Did you like it? Didn't you date that guy? Didn't you have a crush on David Duchovny when you were fifteen? (I did, yall). What kinds of women do you like? But you still want to have babies, right? And if it's someone I know, it becomes a project of Justify The Gayness - like every decision I've ever made, every person I've ever dated, every action I've ever taken, has to make sense in some sort of Unifying Theory of Gay. So Oh That's Why You Had Close Male Friends or Oh That's Why You Had Close Female Friends or So You Really Didn't Like That Guy You Were Dating And Were Repressed Back Then. And if it's someone I don't know, they'll often try to ask enough questions to get to the point where they can come up with that Unified Theory of Gayness.
I hate coming out. I hate that we have to do it. I hate that I have to do it even though I'd rather not. I hate that it never ends. I hate that other people use the coming-outs that I hate in order to reinforce their heterosexist and cissexist assumptions about gender and sexuality.
I moved towns. I thought I could just... be Out. New people, new place, I'm Out. Except I don't look particularly queer (according to whatever bats definition of "looking queer" people seem to have).
And I've discovered it's not that easy. That I'll still have to face up to new friends, to colleagues, to strangers, to people whose homophobic drivel I can't just sit through, and I'll still have to do it with the same sick feeling. That doesn't go away. It gets worse. If your own mother looks at you blankly because she knew anyway and wishes you never spoke up, and your father has to reassure you that he still loves you, what chance have you with complete strangers?
I'm afraid of coming out. I'm afraid of having to do the Bisexual Backpeddle. I know that my newness, my bi-ness, my never having so much as kissed a girl, invalidates me in the eyes of your average straight punter. I'm hesitant with other queers, because the Bisexual Backpeddle still has to be done there, and the Inexperience Backpeddle, and the Why Yes I Did Come Out While Living In A Women's College Backpeddle.
I used to be really good at answering back. I used to be able to out-exegesis any fundamentalist I encountered, and I used to be happy just to have put the idea in their heads that, just maybe, Jesus doesn't hate gay people. Well, I have no right to exegesis any more (and much of it was twisty bullshit. St Paul was a sexist homophobic git, albeit a very smart and well-written one. DEAL). And it's a whole damn lot easier to argue hypothetical theology than to defend yourself, your friends, your lovers if you have them, to people who think they don't understand because "it'd just be gross to kiss a girl". (What am I supposed to say to that? I don't know, I've never tried it, BUT I'D SURE LIKE TO.)
Oh Hai. I'm queer. And you, you straight person who doesn't actually think teh queers are immoral; you straight person who doesn't actually think it'd be gross to kiss another girl (or guy) even though it's not your thing; you straight person who *could* argue that point without putting yourself, your identity, your dreams on the line: for glod's sake, do it. Forget about whether or not you have the right to speak for teh queers. Do it anyway. If you get it wrong, if someone has to pipe up and correct your defence of us, then ten points to you: by being wrong you've made it safe for someone to up and speak for themselves.
~
Coming another day, when it's not bedtime: I Used To Be Homophobic (but thought I was all cool and liberal-minded), or, How My Default Straight Assumption Really Bit Me In The Arse
no subject
Date: 2009-10-12 01:10 pm (UTC)I hear and obey, o moon of my delight. You know that anyway, but I wanted to say it.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-12 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-12 01:13 pm (UTC)Second, You fecking tell 'em, honey!
Thirdly, I told my brother, who said "you're not bi!", having somehow not equated previous "oh, there's this girl" conversations with queerness.
Seriously, your brother is just the most wonderfully dense person ever, innit he?
no subject
Date: 2009-10-12 09:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-12 04:42 pm (UTC)I've been fuming privately since Friday, when somehow the conversation between me and two of my friends (both Christians) ended up on homosexuality, and Pauly was all "That's disgusting!" At which point I really wish I'd bitch-slapped him into next week, because being reasonable? did not work. it's not the first time he's been a complete idiot about it, either, and it's getting on my nerves. grrrrr. it's like he thinks if someone's gay/lesbian, they aren't human, almost. he was all "I found out my uncle was gay and now I won't hug him." and I was reasonable at him and said something along the lines of, "Just because you don't believe their behavior is moral doesn't mean you can act like you're better than them. I know several gay people. I have met Shane's boyfriend, and I was fine with it." And he continued to be an idiot jerk about it.
made me so angry, especially coming on top of what had happened the Friday before when I had to defend gays as not needing to be just thrown in jail simply because they are gay!
sometimes I just want to punch people in the face.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-12 09:18 pm (UTC)Being reasonable really doesn't work. Or... sometimes it does. I remember i sic'd a baptist on my friend Curtis once, because said baptist had been daft enough to come to a Uniting Church camp and was surprised to hear there were queers there (presumably he'd expected teh queers to have three heads and be conspicuous). I sort of stuck out an arm and went "here, meet Curtis!" and Curtis had to answer all kinds of stupid questions about his relationship with his fiance... said baptist went away thinking maybe teh queers weren't all so bad... but I bet it sucked for Curtis, he and his boy were (are?) always stuck with those questions, being the only gay couple in our congregation.