i never “came out of the closet”. i would like to think that but eve sedgwick says the closet will always be there and that i am continuously coming out. i know i have to come out, here and there, to individual people on a semi-regular basis. that’s okay, i’m cool with it. i get it. people are curious. they need to understand. they need to know. they need to get it. they want to find out the particulars of my intimate life: the types of people i like, the types of people i don’t, who i want to get fucked by, my future desires and past sins. they want to distinguish themselves from me.
i am queer, not bi or gay. what exactly is queer about me? okay, so i will take it a little further. i like women that have vulvas and/or penises, genitals don’t matter so much. guys? uh, they are o-kay i guess, not so into them. i like trans people, genderqueers, genderbenders, genderblenders and people that just outright fuck with gender. some people are disgusted by this. they simply do not have respect for other peoples’ preferences and choices for who they like. whatever. i am a hopeless romantic and a crush slut. i fall in love too easily and that’s why i can’t just be with one person exclusively.
i often get misgendered as a woman.
one night, i was at a whitechapel show with the dudes. a passer-by trips over my bag that’s behind me and says “sorry i didn’t mean to trip over your purse”. one night, i was walking home with clementine from an art show at 99 sudbury. two dudes bike past us. one says “SUP ladies”. clementine said this was a bonding experience.
i used to get embarrassed. i used to laugh about this. now, it doesn’t even phase me. i have always wondered: how is my body read as feminine? i know i have long hair and i am petite. is there anything else? don’t worry, you don’t have to answer this. i could never compete in the game of masculinity. in some ways, that’s why queerness appealed to me. i didn’t have to continue to fall short on the expectations of being masculine.
i want to look like a tomboy, like a girl that presents themselves in a boyish figure. why is facial hair such a crucial masculine signifier? i want to fuck like lesbians that don’t use strap-ons. i want to wear binders to compress the my flat breasts. i want the woman to take the lead. to tell you the truth, precious moments make me cry. i want you to ask me out. yeah, i am totally putting myself out there. i want to be the object of desire, to be objectified. i want to be the bottom to your top. i love it when you tell me that i am cute, pretty and beautiful. that makes bashful and blush. fuck, i’m so through with having to follow gendered expectation that men should ask women out. c’mon women, bend some effing gender norms and ask a guy out. if we are dating i don’t care if you are much taller than me, we are still hot. i am femme. i am an anarchist that loves urban fashion and i have no shame admitting that i have a really hard time selecting my outfit in the morning. i do care about the way i look, no shame.
i enjoy relaxing bubble baths and listening to metal. i love going to hardcore shows and doing face masks. i take selfies and drink shirley temples. i like hip-hop and bright florescent colours on my clothing. i enjoy watching gangster movies and singing to mariah carey in the shower. i am not into wearing nail polish but do love glitter bombs except when they go all over my hair. just because i am queer a guy doesn’t mean i like everything feminine. just because i am femme doesn’t mean i reject everything masculine. just because i am discussing all this gender and sexuality stuff doesn’t mean i think that my lifestyle can be reduced to the oversimplified categories of man, woman, heterosexual or queer. sometimes its all or nothing.
if i want to talk about my sexuality and my gender presentation, i will bring it up. if you want to talk about my sexuality and gender presentation, you don’t have to do that for me. love life & stay true.
