that’s georgia the nguni cow skull. she’s named for georgia o’keeffe and my gf and i rescued her from a field along a dirt road. she came away for a weekend with us, in the boot of my gf’s car, because we were on our way at the time. georgia hangs on the stoep to remind me of it and there’s a print on my wall, of the cliffs where we were, that does the same. blue skies and beauty.
so i have a dslr again. to say that i’m stoked would be putting it very mildly indeed.
happy national coming out day, america! and well done to everybody who came out – as we all know, it isn’t a linear process – so i don’t necessarily mean those who came out for the first time. but especially well done to those … i’ll spare you my coming out rant, i did it [yet again] quite recently.
I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating.
If you’d suffer severe consequences on coming out – don’t. There are people who get raped, beaten, murdered for the crime of being out. If you’re very young and afraid – wait. If you’re one of those privileged middle-class types who don’t come out because it’s inconvenient, you’re a coward and a traitor and you have the blood of the victims of hate crimes on your well-manicured hands. Ditto all those celebs whose careers are far more important to them than broader tolerance and the safety of the community.
There are people who are instantly read as sexual/gender outlaws/outcasts – they have the option of adjusting their physical appearance to hide, though it isn’t always a simple matter, or of living out, proud and free. There are those who look “normal” according to conformist society and those people face different issues. Hiding is easy, but what about visibility? They can be out verbally, they can wear/display symbols of queer (or whatever) pride, they can walk hand in hand with their same sex lovers – no doubt there are other options.
People talk about not wanting to make a big deal out of their sexuality, of wanting simply to be treated as “normal” members of society.
And you know what? When they stop killing us for being queer, we’ll have that luxury. Until then – aluta continua.
Thank you for being out.
click to see more symbols
I suppose everyone’s “coming out story” tends to be the first person they came out to, don’t they? Anyway, whether it is or not, as somebody said to me rather huffily once, “coming out is not a linear process.” You have to come out to yourself first, probably – and then start inflicting your pride or shock or shame or whatever you feel at that stage, on to your world, to varying degrees.
The one I tell is one I have told so often that I am completely and utterly and totally sick of it – in fact these days I can just supply a link to it – but I won’t. I’ll tell you that I was 21 or so, on a separate continent to my mother and that I drank the better (worse?) part of a bottle of Stoli and phoned her. And then I made her guess. What an arse I was. It went something like this:
Her: You’re not pregnant are you?
Me: *hysterical laughter*
Her: Are you a lesbian?
Me: (sobered up fast) Yes.
Her: Oh! Do you have your very own closet? Is it pink?
That’s the story I have told proudly ever since.
It never even occurred to me that I would get a negative reaction actually. I have a gay stepbrother (yo stranger!) and I was brought up never to feel superior to anybody, to know that “different strokes for different folks” was a good thing to remember and so although I was as nervous as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof, it was more an English sort of repression/embarrassment than anything remotely to do with my sexuality.
That’s almost twenty years ago now and so I have many, many coming out stories.
Thanks to fuckyeahlgbt for the 30 day queer meme.
i’ve been reading lesc90 since she started blogging, oh..about 5mins ago =) anyway, i jokingly adopted her, but really this is to say – welcome to the queer tribe!