"He's a Man Now": Life Lessons from a Home Video

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Having worked with young children for many years, I am always in awe of their inherent openness and lack of prejudice. They simply accept things as you say them, and no further explanation is needed. Earlier tonight, I was watching one of my home videos. I was very lucky to grow up with a grandpa who constantly recorded everything. He was our family photographer and videographer, and thanks to him, my entire childhood through about age 8 is chronicled in detail. There are many cute moments, touching moments, and crazy moments, but on the particular video I watched tonight, there is one moment that stands out to me and gives me pause every time I watch it.

No more no homo

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“I love you dude. No homo.”

It’s a phrase which is being seen and heard more and more these days. No homo. This qualifier that means affection can be expressed between two people (most usually men. Especially young men) and is there to make sure that “phew. No one will think I’m gay now.” I’ve seen it when people are talking to each other, when they’re telling celebrities they love them and look up to them, when people are hugging; the list goes on. No homo. I love you, but not like that. Don’t worry, I’m not gay or anything.

 

 

 

Reflections from Disney World

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Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to visit Disney World for the first time in about ten years. While it may not be as “magical” an experience as it was when I was a kid, I still always come away from Disney feeling happy, like something has been set right in the world. Walt Disney himself was not the most open-minded individual (to put it nicely), but he still managed to create a theme park with rides that send very important messages out into the world. No ride exhibits this as much as the ride that’s been my favorite since I was little: It’s a Small World.

The Importance of Being You

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Today I want to talk about acceptance. The past week has been an emotionally challenging one for me, for many reasons. At the end of it, though, what I’m left with is a reminder to myself that I feel needs to be shared: BE WHO YOU ARE. I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression on and off since I was a pre-teen. There have been three times in my life when I would say I was depressed for an extended period of time. Once in my junior year of high school, once in my junior year of college, and once when I was 25. Each time, there was no one event that caused my depression. Instead, what happened each time was that something central to my self-identity, central to my existence, central to my being, was upsetting me. But when I tried to talk to those around me about it, they either couldn’t or just didn’t understand. So over time, I gradually stopped trying to talk to them about it. Eventually, I ended up feeling like I couldn’t talk to anybody about whatever issue was bothering me at the time. The first two times, this eventually landed me in a psychologist’s office, which was actually really helpful for me, because it gave me a safe place, where I could talk about what was bothering me without fear of judgment and without worrying about annoying the person I was talking to. After all, it was their job to listen! Once I was able to talk to someone about what was bothering me, I was then able to work through it in my head, until I had fully processed, accepted, and dealt with the issue. The moral of this story is that we live in a world where social norms and conformity are stressed to the point where if you don’t fit into what’s “normal”, it’s very easy to get to the point where I found myself: struggling, with nowhere to turn. But in spite of that, we need to stay true to who we are.

The Invisible Femme

Dyke is not a name I got called often. I guess I consider myself lucky in that respect. But you know what I did feel a lot… invisible. I am a femme lesbian. You can call me lipstick if that makes you more comfortable, but the truth is I’m passable for straight and this creates issues. When I have come out, while wearing my mini dress with adorable wedges and statement necklace, I have gotten laughed at because they thought I was making a joke. I’ve been denied completely hearing the words “No you’re not.” I’ve been judged with their thinking that I just want attention, and the truth is it all hurts.

Sexual (dis)Orientation

Ladies, gentlemen, variations thereof, and none of the above, much has changed since the last time you tuned in to the adventures of your favorite intrepid transient Sapphist. I want to tell you about a phenomenon I like to call "sexual disorientation": a sad byproduct of living in a het's world.

They Found Out

Yeah, so I made these. Glad I can wear these all the time now.

Ladies, gentlemen, variations thereof and none of the above, you are probably wondering where I've been these past few weeks. You must have been frustrated, enraged, cursing my pretty face as you mash the refresh button, praying for a new post from me. I can hardly forgive myself for keeping you in such a state, dear readers. So let me tell you why I've been so long away.

They found out.

What is Homophobia, Again?

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Recently (and pretty hilariously, to me) Wilfrid Fox Napier, a South African Catholic cardinal told the Mail and the Guardian that “I can’t be accused of homophobia, because I don’t know any homosexuals.” Well, it was hilarious, and then it wasn't, because really? But damn, I didn’t know there were rules and regulations to homophobia. If you don’t know any QUILTBAGs, then you can’t be bigoted – silly me, I thought it was whether anything bigoted is said. It does seem that I need to reevaluate what homophobia actually is, because my definition is very different.

This Weeks Musings

Having a terrible time writing this week. Usually, I think of things throughout the week and put the little thoughts down as prompts to expand on later. This week, I just can’t get excited about anything.

Partly, it’s that I have spent far too much time reading the news this week. The news out of France is particularly grim, with a sharp increase in homophobic attacks, even as the country nears marriage equality. Patrick, my friend, be safe!

Partly, I’m feeling a bit discouraged over QUILTBAG issues in my own life. On Sunday, a friend of mine came over having a bit of a crisis. Their child is questioning their gender and it’s hitting my friend rather hard. My friend is usually quite open minded and didn’t turn a hair when their child was questioning their orientation, but somehow questioning their gender was a whole different issue.

That One Guy

Unidentified White Man
Smithsonian Institution.

My daughter and I have come to the conclusion that our entire American society is geared around the needs of one guy.

This man is considered our normal. He is white, cis-gendered, neurotypical, heterosexual, with slightly (but only slightly) above average sex drive, able to form romantic attachments. He is conventionally handsome (but not so handsome he looks fake), Christian, thin, able bodied, average intelligence, between the ages of 24 and 49. Chances are he was born into an upper class family although he does not admit to being part of the one percent. He was more than likely the oldest son, started school at 5, graduated at 18, has a bachelor’s degree, enjoys football and belonged to a frat. He lives in either New York or Los Angeles, works for either a financing firm or in politics.

If you see him, tell him we’re all pissed at him.

The World Comes Into Focus

One of the things I do is give talks to HS and college kids about safer sex. Because I am an outside speaker, and a healthcare worker, I can get away with saying shit the teachers can’t. I give teacher deniability.

“Oh, little Johnny heard about condoms, anal sex and HIV testing from Mrs. Rahner? And why certain sexual practices are riskier than others? She also told Janey how to find her own clitoris? And that masturbation is normal? Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. See, she’s a volunteer and I guess she’s just not used to our rules.”

Introduction to Hate and Acceptance

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So in my therapy sessions when my pretty aweosme therapist (I think she's the most amazing therapist ever) we talk over many topics. A common one is anger. Since as a kid I learned to bottle up my anger. Yeah..healthy, I know. But we went on to talk about anger on a more general level, not just personal and told me some conclusions about hate.

So I was going to post a clip from Pixar's Night and Day short film but all of the versions have a different audio and the point of the clip was for a quote on differences. I'm going to grumble in my corner.

Anyway!

With every new thing, there are two reactions to go with it. They are acceptance and rejection. Now acceptance is broader than rejection. Liking, enjoying, asking, being curious are all signs of acceptance. Even if you're not 100% what something is, asking questions is a sign of accepting it because you want to learn from it.

The flip side is rejection, obviously.

It's a Dog's Life

Hi guys. Was sat here thinking what to write about, and then I realised something. For the past few weeks, my life has been about dogs.

Yes, I know.  While the rest of the world is celebrating the British voting positively on equality in marriage, my world revolves around dogs. But there's no doubt about it. Dogs have been the centre of my world, for the past three weeks.

First, my pitt bull died. If you read my earlier posts, you'd know he was 12, and he had cancer. I had to face putting him down, and then, about 10 days later, our newbie pup, Scooter, landed in our lives. We went through a bunch of shit, including would it be good for our existing dog, would it be disloyal to Buller, would we be able to support and look after a puppy. Nevertheless, here he is. Our lives are centered around peep and poop and house training this little bundle of fur and energy. And our older dog has taken to him like nobody's business. At nights, they rush around playing like escaped lunatics. But then this morning, while we were walking our child to the bus, we stopped to buy some bread rolls and all of a sudden, three huge dogs had run out of a house and attacked her.

Romia and Juliet

Ladies, gentlemen, variations thereof, and none of the above, the unthinkable has happened. I got dumped. It lasted for all of five weeks, and then she dumped me. It was everything I'd ever dreamed it would be and more. Being the tortured artist that I am, this relationship will provide creative fodder for weeks to come. Like Frida Kahlo, I will intimately twine my brooding into my masterpieces. The autopsy of this doomed affair will be long and grueling, and each and every one of you will be treated to a front row seat. I'm no doctor, but like a gunshot wound to the head or the smell of bitter almonds on the lips, the primary cause of death here is elementary, dear readers. I'm ruling this one "homophobic parents".

Putting my dog down, paying it forward and other ramblings.

Hey all.

I've been scarce... my bad, so I wanted to say happy new year to you even though it's nearly the end of January. Hope you've had a good one!!!

Today’s post is not gender orientation inspired, it’s more just life inspired. I guess, I just need to write about my dog, because I put him to sleep yesterday. You can say all you want, he was sick, old, he had cancer, he was suffering (all true), but this morning, I have things at the back of my mind:

• Who gave me the right to play God?
• I went and asked a man to kill a dog. 
• I have got to help my children through unbridled grief at the loss of their dog. 
• I couldn’t bear to see my dog suffer, but if I had asked him if he wanted to be euthanased, what would he have said?

With the last, I tried to put myself in his place. If someone asked me if I wanted to be euthanased as opposed to suffer on and try to find a cure, some way of life.. knowing that I was old and that the chances were good I’d suffer for a while longer and then die.. I think I’d want to die. But the article is not about his death. It’s about his life.

My Experience With Religion

If you don't want to read the post, this picture sums it all up

I'm currently writing this as a queer person. And as a Christian. And well..yeah the two can actually co-exist happily.

At the Intersection of Race and Orientation

Disillusioned Face? I need you again!

Ladies, gentlemen, variations thereof and none of the above, the honeymoon period is over. I say this with a heavy heart, but the inevitable has happened. My bleeding leftist heart is quick to attach itself to various causes and is just as easily disillusioned with every transgression my new comrades commit. I thought I'd learned after Julian Assange was accused of rape that no movement is perfect. Evidently I have not learned well enough. Ladies, gentlemen, variations thereof and none of the above, the LGBT movement has a race problem. It's here. It's queer. And we are not going to get used to it.

Lynn Conway (or the Reason You Can Use a Computer)

This is the second part of my series on famous QUILTBAG scientists. The previous part is here.

Lynn Conway is an extraordinary scientist. In the field of computer science, she’s one of the biggest names, and plenty of processes that are used in computers began life as her brainchild. Most interestingly, she was involved with one of the greatest breakthroughs in computer science history, and for thirty years nobody knew. 

But her story doesn’t start with Lynn Conway. Her story starts with a boy called Robert.

Holiday Edition!

Ladies, gentlemen, variations thereof and none of the above, I come to you refreshed from a strange American ritual celebrating the decimation of native peoples and the national vice of gluttony. Thanksgiving is seen among my people as all of these things and more. It’s a week off of school. It’s passing out from a food coma. It’s giving thanks that Native Americans were the victims of mass genocide by white settlers, allowing the United States of America to be. But above all things, it’s time for the awkward and forced interaction between people who share little more than a few more gene sequences than the mean. Yes, Thanksgiving is family time. But many of us in the LGBT community don’t have family to speak of. How do we celebrate the holidays?

Breaking the Stereotype: We are no Different

Shutterstock always has the best
images of confused people

Dudes and dudettes, today in my study-fogged manner, I write to you all from my own personal experience. Today I explain to you all exactly how to speak to someone like I.

The teenage LGBTQ community is one which is, sadly, pockmarked by the bullied, the marginalised, and the suicidal. A teenager whose sexuality is not that of society’s definition of the “norm” (that is, a teenager who is not straight) is one who society expects to be bullied. It has become so normal for LGBTQ youth to be depressed and struggling with their sexuality, that it is expected of us. The amount of people who tell my friends and I that they are surprised how comfortable we are with ourselves, is astonishing.

My friends and I are the portion of LGBTQ youth who don’t struggle day to day, but that doesn’t mean that the apprehension to come out isn’t there. We stick to the people we know are safe- we’re closeted in the classes where teachers are homophobic, we don’t let news about our sexualities be spread around the school. And we’re happy to take questions from people about our sexualities- within reason.