blackphoenixalchemylab:

arcanalogue:

I hate everything today, so I will share a memory that popped up instead. Here’s me on a class trip to Los Angeles when I was in high school. This is what I wore on our beach day.

I hated being dragged out into the sun. I hated environments where I was expected to undress. I deeply mistrusted other people, and I’d learned that trying to blend didn’t work. I wasn’t good at it, and folks could detect my weakness and otherness through any disguise.

So I went the other route: advertise, poison frog style. Look unpleasant and unpredictable. Look like you’re prepared to spew venom, or at the very least leave a bitter taste in their mouths. It won’t deter everyone, but in the meantime you get to passively annoy literally everyone who lays eyes on you, and if they go after you anyway, at least you died with your boots on. (Doc Martens on the beach! And don’t get me started on the beret.)

I had limited means to dress myself. My parents wouldn’t pay for me to look “other,” and there were only so many places to even hunt for things to wear. I wasn’t particularly happy with the look, but it did help me fantasize about living somewhere else, cooler cities in better climates, where none of this would raise an eyebrow – not even the hand-painted lunchbox.

At the end of this trip, on the bus ride home, is when I came out to my friend Angela (front row, right), the first person I told within my close circle of friends. She was the one whose reaction I knew would make or break my last months of high school, so why not start there.

People joke about these moments, like: “Uh yeah, I’m sure she already knew.” I mean, look at what I’m wearing!

From the other side of the glass, you do NOT know what other people might think about you, or how they might react. You’ve been living in fear of worst-case scenarios all your life – some of which have already come true. You’ve witnessed truly bizarre levels of denial. You have no idea what’s coming.

I was ready for her to laugh in my face.

In those fragile moments, you are ceremonially handing someone a dagger and then politely asking them not to strike you down with it. And you’re doing this in a social climate where it would be just as completely socially acceptable for them to slash at you, or refuse to accept it altogether, as it would be for them to accept it, accept you.

You’re handing them this jeweled dagger and asking them to hold it, and keep it close on their person in case they need it to protect you.

And she did accept it, very reverently, and I think I cried but I can’t remember, because in that moment my whole life was flashing before my eyes. And she did protect me, when other people were unnecessarily cruel. I mean, she always had – but now she had this extra incentive.

Over the next few years, I had to offer that dagger to so many people.

I still do, whenever I go to see a new doctor, or get to know a new neighbor. I’ve gotten very good at handing it over very casually, in a way that suggests how foolish and pointless it would be to raise it against me. Hahahahaha you think you can hurt me with that thing? Guess again, my friend.

Not everyone accepted it, but only a few turned the blade back on me.

Some surprised me by offering one of their own in exchange, and we protected each other.

We know acceptance should be the default. We know we’re harmless and there’s nothing to fear from us. We know how badly the rest of the world wants to move on from “You’re a diseased, perverted freak” to “Okay, there’s nothing special about you, let’s all move on, the world has bigger problems now” but in this haste, crucial steps are being skipped.

We never got to tell our story. And the few that DID are watching straight and cisgendered actors play their parts in the movies, because “anyone should be able to play anything.” Not to mention, it takes such COURAGE for a straight/cis actor to play gay or trans, blah de blah.

You know what takes courage? This outfit. Keeping secrets. Handing people information they can use to effectively destroy your life as you know it. Finally kissing another boy when the entire universe seems to have conspired to make sure boys don’t kiss boys. Using the public restroom you feel safest in. Possibly losing your best friend, and then all your other friends, and then your family, by finally saying TWO WORDS out loud.

National Coming Out Day is October 11th. If you’re a safe person to come out to, you should consider making that very clear to others. Maybe October 10th should be a straight/cisgendered event called “It’s Safe to Come Out To Me” Day. Then we’d see a wave of active, preemptive acceptance as a backdrop for the sprinkling of coming-out posts. Why are we making them do all the work?

Dumb as it may seem to an avowed ally, someone you know may be struggling or exploring and not know if it’s appropriate to bring up yet. Because in their mind, this information is still a ceremonial dagger. It’s HEAVY. They might need someone to say or type these words where anyone can hear/read them:

“It’s safe to come out to me.”

Do with this information whatever you will. 

Just making sure allies know that making October 10th “It’s Safe To Come Out To Me” Day, officially or otherwise, could make a big difference to certain people in your life.

❤