I’m a big fan of Macklemore’s Same Love, but for everyone looking for a more authentic story here are two versions that aren’t by straight, white men.
The other day I ran up a set of stairs and I almost died.
Well, that’s how I felt at least. No one ever told me I’d get so old so young.
That isn’t the point. When I got to the top of the stairs my date was waiting there for me, laughing and holding the door open as I tumbled into the train car. And for a moment I wanted to throw myself into his arms and thank my lucky stars that I didn’t break a hip or have a heart attack or something. And then, because my brain is a strange and non-romantic place, this popped into my head instead.
A moment I would stare at without realizing I was staring and thinking things like ‘straight people just…do straight things…and everybody’s just okay with it’ and they would pretend not to notice me staring. Then I’d see something shiny and we’d both forget it ever happened.
i’m okay with straight people as long as they act gay in public
‘straight people just…do straight things…and everybody’s just okay with it’
I thought about how easy it would be to throw myself into his arms, how in a few weeks when he’s more entrenched in my life maybe I’ll really want to do that… often. How maybe I’ll want to do it so badly I’ll hardly be able to stop myself. How hard it must be to feel that way and always have to stop yourself.
And so instead of throwing myself into his arms I tried to steady my heartbeat and catch my breath and I got really sad. I got really sad at the depravity of the world we live in. A world where every day people can have that overwhelming need to throw themselves at their loved ones and then recognize that same need in others and deny it to them. It seems I get really sad on the subway a lot lately.
Today I watched this video
I knew Deen was coming out with a line of toys (and I have at least one friend who is excited to get one) [UPDATE: review] but when I watched the video I was reminded of something.
In the interview you see lots of posters of him in the store where the signing is being held. And as the camera flicked past these images I kept thinking how happy he looks in all the posters. He looks like he has nothing to hide. Like he’s saying “Hey there world! I’m me! Just like this! Warts and all! And if you don’t like it, then you can suck it!” and the world was like, “Um, ok, then I guess you’re cool.”
It reminded me of the first time I thought about the word Gay. I listened to a lot of show tunes and watched a lot of old movies when I was a kid so I remember knowing the definition of gay as happy long before I learned that it also meant homosexual.
And I remember that my first thought was how obvious the word was. How obviously gay people would describe themselves as happy. Why wouldn’t they? They’re people who show their truest selves to the world and are happily in love. Gay people must have the highest levels of gaiety because they are doing exactly what Deen is doing in those pictures. They’ve come the cleanest.
The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it — basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.
– Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness [x]
I hope one day I can find out what I need to admit to the world in order to be that happy.
Related to this, I started thinking about a concept from Doctor Who. On the show the main character is called “The Doctor” and at a certain point he turns kind of… evil-ish and he’s told that on other planets, in other languages “Doctor” is a bad word. It means warrior or murderer or whatever other scary thing he doesn’t want to be.
Sometimes words have meaning before they’re applied to you. Sometimes you give words meaning when you associate with them.
The word feminist doesn’t mean “A hairy lesbian who wants to cut your balls off” it is a word which happens to encompass parts of me. I define it with what I do and believe. It doesn’t define me by your preconceived notions.
I’m currently reading Portia de Rossi’s Unbearable Lightness: A Story of Loss and Gain and she said something fantastic in it. In the book de Rossi explores her experience in the closet. She talks about a guy who she cared about:
I often joke that my mom wishes my brother and I were gay and when ladies make advances towards me often I wish I were attracted to them. Attraction isn’t something you can really control though.
I’m not interested in a lady. She just smells female. All women do.
You can tell me that women are sexy all you want, but men being sexy? That I can feel.
At fathers day dinner with my aunt, uncle, and (grown, married) cousins I brought up that I had a friend who considered himself pansexual. Suddenly the table was in an uproar.
No one was upset that I had brought up sex at the dinner table. Last year over Thanksgiving dinner we had a long discussion about how disappointing it is that I’ll probably never have as many sexual partners as my mother.
But everyone was in a tizzy because I couldn’t adequately explain the difference between pansexuality and bisexuality.
Thank you LaciGreen for the first decent explanation I’ve heard.
Give it a listen. It could make your next family meal as interesting as mine always seem to be.
Another concept that stumped my family: Cisgender.
I found this on Postsecret the other day.
I understand that Glee is a very flawed show. I understand that the actors on the show are autotuned and processed and that it’s annoying. I understand that sometimes they pick songs that suck. I understand all these things because the autotuning annoys me and when they sing Run The World unironically I want to punch a hole in the screen.
But if Glee saves us from more of this:
Then I’ll take the Beyonce.