Poof Piece No. 4: “Holiday Teason’”
As the years go on, I’m noticing more queers voicing their opinions regarding the holiday season and the fear, trauma and/or discomfort it brings to them.
Is it because we now understand that we no longer have to deal with the stares, giggles and misgendering around a woollies ham and a Christmas trifle? Or is it because we realise that the work we’ve put into ourselves to be the proud, hardworking individuals we are with gorgeous interests, lovers, friends and careers may be questioned for the duration spent back in our hometown? Or perhaps on the contrary, we wouldn’t be asked a single thing due to some not understanding how to communicate with a confident queer person therefore anxiously avoids avoids avoids, which subconsciously or consciously making us feel like it’s now our responsibility to ensure the situation will be bearable by interviewing said person on the happenings of their past year?
To be frank, It’s just one big fat tease. Whether its teasing our existence, or the love we’ve felt we’ve had to earn for the past x number of years.
When I first moved into my apartment, I bought a print of Edith Massey with the words “I be so proud if you was a fag” above her head. After 11 months, I’ve finally organised for it to be framed and my god do I wish I did it sooner. As it’s hanging in my bedroom, I glanced at it and imagined I existed in a world where that were a sentence said often enough for it to not to feel like I just fell onto my stomach, winding myself to the point where I’m gasping for air attempting to mouth the words “I’m okay”, while holding back tears. Imagine, right?! How reaffirming would that be?
Us as a community put in the work, day in day out to ensure that our once voiceless selves are now heard, respected and appreciated. There comes a time where we need to re-evaluate certain situations that we place ourselves in and think “Is this necessary for me? Is this going to be an experience where I’ll walk away feeling loved, or just disappointed?”.
To my fellow queers who’re travelling home this week and putting themselves in potentially triggering situations, my heart goes out to you. This is a time of year where we’re reminded of the love that should be there, isn’t. I wish it were different, but at the same time I think to myself “We’re bloody magnificent” and if certain people are blinded by that, then it’s no longer our responsibility to ensure that they see us the way we see ourselves. It’s now a time where we can create new traditions with the people whom we love most and who love us most.
Don’t get me wrong, I have beautiful members of my family who love and support me. My Dad for instance, is one of my favourite humans. At 65, he’s able to call me Sandy, use the correct pronouns 80% of the time (it’s a cute journey), and is genuinely interested in ensuring that he understands a little more about what it means to be Non-Binary each time I visit him while sitting with a glass of red.
We as humans are forever evolving and if we want to be respectful in each other’s journey, we’ve got to sit down and unlearn everything that we’ve previously known. This shouldn’t ignite fear, this instead should ignite curiosity and patience whilst with an open heart. As I’m sitting on my balcony writing this, it’s making me question my own position within my extended family and if there is work that I, in fact, need to put in. Sometimes I feel like I’m in an episode of Succession, minus the millions but with the same level of paranoia. I am hopeful though however, that one day we’ll be confident in the decisions we make and the possible conversations we try to start in order to move three steps into the right direction. But my friends…ultimately, there is only so much we can do.
So, until then have comfort in knowing that you are exactly where you need to be. You’re gorgeous the way you are and the choices you make to ensure you’re living your most authentic life are correct. I’m a firm believer in everything happens for a reason and the trauma I’ve faced previously is only preparing me to take that next step forward and sometimes backwards to know that I no longer need another person’s opinion to validate my own existence.
My loves, I’m so proud that you’re a fag.
Sandy xx