Category Archives: being a unicorn

To those who love the sinner but hate the sin ( = being queer)

I have spent a sleepless night thinking about your love.

You tell me “you love everyone” and that you just feel that “that kind of relationship is not what’s best for me”.

I’ve spent a sleepless night thinking about why it makes me feel so bad when you tell me you love me. Why it triggers me. Why it terrifies me.

And somewhere in the darkest depth of the night I have found the answer:

Your love is like that of an abusive husband.

Like him, you know what’s best for me, better than I do, so I should obey your laws not follow my heart.

Like him, you take my freedom away because I can’t be trusted with it and might do something you don’t like.

Like him, you isolate me from the ones I love because you say they aren’t good for me, they will damage my soul.

Like him, you promise me to be free from pain later, in an undefined future, if I just accept being lonely and relying solely on you now.

Like him, you will punish me if I misbehave. You will strip my rights away, you will beat me up – because you love me and want to make me better.

Like him, you say I will only be worthy if I negate who I am and live for your ideal and your belief of what I should be.

Like him, you drive me to despair and call it love.

And like with him, I need to be protected from you. I  try my best to protect myself but I know on my own I am not enough. I need allies. Who fight for my right to be free and to be safe and to love and to be happy in this life.

I am crying while typing this because I hope so much that I have enough allies and I’m so afraid that I don’t. That one day I will have to rely on your love. Which I know will kill me.


Life’s Little Stories – Public Reading

I took part in a literary reading last week. I read one of my older stories. The narrator is a girl in a psychiatric clinic. We don’t figure out why she’s there. Not in the part that I read, anyway. We only follow her through her day and through her thoughts. There’s this other girl. She calls her “my girl” even though she never sees her from the front, just from the back. The other girl never talks. Nature folds itself around her because she is so quiet and still. So the narrator tells her everything she feels in her thoughts. Hopes so hard for the other girl to get better and be happy. There is even a little story about a dream in there, a dream in which the narrator fled with her female lover in a land where it is forbidden to be as they are.

And yet.

Yet when people talk to me after a reading of this story, and again last week, they ask me “are you better now?” and assume that I’m the narrator and have been in a psychiatric clinic. They tell me “it is a great way to tell the story with the outside representation of yourself in the other girl” and assume that I’m the narrator but that the other girl isn’t real.

Now I tell them, it is a fictional story and its interpretation is their own. But it is funny.

I’ve never been in a psychiatric clinic. But that other girl sure as hell is real.

Love Knows No Gender
Being married doesn’t make you straight.

Pride (and Prejudice – or rather: and Anxiety)

I’m scared today. Part of it is that I got triggered yesterday (by rattling pipes, it’s embarrassingly easy to trigger me with heating systems), so my anxiety level is up an extra 10 notches today and I have no idea how to bring it back down.

The other part is more based in reality and less in decades-old trauma so that’s what I actually want to talk about.

I’m going to the pride parade in my town this weekend. It’s not the first time I’ve gone and usually it’s fun and everyone is nice. But so far, I’ve always either gone with lesbian friends (passing as lesbian) or with my husband (passing as straight ally). And frankly, I don’t want to do either anymore. Because I’m not lesbian and I’m not straight. I’m bisexual. So I’m planning to wear bisexual pride colors this year and have my bi!pride flag with me.

I didn’t think much of it before the worry started creeping in a few days ago. I have such an amazing bunch of online friends who completely accept me for who I am, and many of whom are also mythological creatures (bi, ace, aro, genderfluid, pick and choose your fav), that I kind of forgot that the unicorn status is frowned upon or declared invalid in the ‘real world’ queer community quite often. And I’m even ‘worse’ than your average nymphomaniac bisexual because I’m a girl married to a dude, so according to lesbian logic* I’m now straight and am just using the bi label to garner attention.                         *No, it’s not ‘all lesbians’. Just like it’s not ‘all men’.

Sorry if the sarcasm is dripping off the screen and into your keyboard. But in the wake of #LoveWins and the tears of joy over that, I was all love and happiness and rainbows and I hate how outside perceptions make me feel like I have no right to be a part of that. How I’m considering leaving the bi!pride flag at home. How I already want to mold myself to the majority because it has less risk of being shunned.

I want to find something positive to end this post with because I feel there should be a conclusion or a positive moral tale or whatever, but there really isn’t one. All there is is this gnawing anxiety and the feeling like the world is not a safe place for me.

Frankly, it sucks.

And that’s all I have to say to it.