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shirecorn · 2 years

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Perspective

I am the same person I've always been. I am not more angry, or any sharper than I was before I found myself.

But

when I showed you my soft parts, you rejected me.

I'm happier now than I've ever been; just not around you.

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I am a hedgehog with simple lines and simple love. I close my eyes and rest.

"I am the same person I always was"

You imagine me as curled into a ball of spikes, pointing in every direction, with furrowed brows and a frustrated frown.

"I am not more angry-"

I am small and made of rounded shapes, I find a little flag with horizontal stripes. It's hard to tell what color it is. It doesn't matter.

"-or any sharper than I was before I found myself."

"But"

You're bigger than I am, so I've always look up to you. A hedgehog like me, your back is bristling with spines, but your face and hands are round and warm. They don't reach out to take the flag I hold up for you.

"When I showed you my soft parts,"

You've curled up as if defending against an attack. Sharp edges point in every direction. The flag, the piece of myself I handed you, is pierced through.

"You rejected me"

There are others in my life, now. A snake, a squirrel, and another hedgehog laugh with me. I face them and smile so hard my eyes shut with joy. The side of me they see holds all my softness, all my peace, and all my love.

"I'm happier now than I've ever been"

You're left sitting behind, with me facing away. I still have the same smile as before, but you cannot see it from where you are. All you see are the spines of defense that keep me protected from people who hate my joy.

"Just not around you."

#lgbt #coming out #trans #really any LGBT which is why the flag isn't colored #LGBT+#parental rejection #transphobia #shire draws #comic #queer #lgbtiaq #vent

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thefaultinourdefault-blog · 5 years

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What Does Dyke Mean?

So today, as I was eating my honeybun at breakfast (which really isn't that great, but I refuse to have anything else for breakfast for fear of disturbing my food-routine), my grandma asked me a question that took me completely off-guard.

"What does 'dyke' mean?"

I could feel my stomach flip as my heartbeat increased drastically. Now, see, my grandma is a complicated person. I love her, but she's complicated. She's one of those people who aren't too fond of the LGBT community, but firmly believes that there shouldn't be any violence or legal discrimination towards LGBT people either. Now I've tried coming out to my grandma before, and it didn't go well at all. She said some pretty hurtful things. But since then, she's slowly been warming up to the topic (she even iced a cookie in rainbow colors for pride month), however, for complicated reasons that I'll probably describe in a future blog post, I'm going to have to come out to her again - officially this time. And while my grandma has asked other startling questions before; "Do you like girls?" "Why aren't you interested in dating boys?" "You aren't, really gay, are you?", This one caught me off guard the most.

See, okay, my grandma is kind of homophobic, but she's also really innocent and naive. She grew up in a small town that was home to less than 100 people, and up until her mid-adult life, she didn't even know that black people existed, let alone queer people. That being said, she also never knew about the amount of intolerance that was directed towards minority groups. Racial and homophobic slurs don't exist in her vocabulary, unless you count the time she called a lesbian couple on Say Yes to the Dress a "couple of queers." I guess she does know that one.

I wasn't sure what answer I was supposed to give her, so I simply shrugged my shoulders and took another bite of my dull-tasting honeybun.

"Your Uncle called someone that word while he was on the phone with me the other day. I know it's a female term, but I don't know what it means."

I nodded my head. It wouldn't be unexpected from the uncle that she was referring to. You know those scary ultra-conservative rednecks that some people imagine when you say the word "American"? Well my uncle was the cookie-cutter scary redneck. Gun collection? Check. Confederate flag? Check. Works at a shooting range? Check. Thinks women are only good for house wives and shouldn't have an opinion of their own? Check. Uses the n-word freely? Check. Calls the black lives matter and LGBT pride movements a "terrorist agenda"? Check. Has a "I love Donald Trump" sign in his front yard? Check.

My grandma didn't infuse these things in him, he learned them from his father. His father was an abusive asshole with multiple domestic violence charges as notches in his bedpost. It's funny how those things can be generational.

Now that the reason for her asking the question was out in the open, I felt more comfortable giving an answer.

"Dyke is a homophobic slur, usually directed towards lesbians or other gay women." I explained, and then I gave her a little bit of history about the word and the violence that's been directed towards the LGBT community throughout history, and about how some people still hold those out-dated views.

Was that too much information? Did I give too much away? Did I show that I know so much about the LGBT community that I must be a member of it myself? I panicked internally once I had finished explaining. But to my surprise, she didn't take this as another opportunity to question my sexuality.

Instead, her eyes watered slightly and she shook her head. "I'm so naive," She admitted, and then added on with something like "I didn't know that there was still so much hatred in the world. I thought that in 10 years or so there would be no 'white' or 'black'. I thought we would all just tolerate each other as human beings. Gay people are human beings."

My heart warmed at her words, but of course, she didn't finish there.

"It's okay to be upset when someone you know, or your child comes out as gay. You can try to guide them, you can wish that they weren't on that path, but it never gives you an excuse to be a mean person."

My smile faltered. I knew that by "guide them" she meant that a part of her still thinks that gay people can be changed through some grace of God. But then I remembered, a year ago she wouldn't listen to Elton John music in the car with me. A year ago she said that there was "no reason to stand up for the LGBT community”. And now, here she was, acknowledging that what my uncle said was wrong.

It was a pure sentiment, perhaps a little misguided, but I'm proud of the progress that she's made. I'm definitely nowhere near being ready to really come out to her, but somehow, the conversation that I had with her today gave me faith that coming out will be a question of "when will I?" Rather than "will I ever?" And that's good enough for me right now.

Now I'm sitting here, waiting for lunchtime, and wondering why my grandma thought to come to me with that question of all people, and why wasn't she phased by the fact that I seemed to know so much about LGBT related issues? Is it possible that somewhere in her mind she knows? And is it possible that somewhere in her heart she's capable of accepting me for who I really am? But I guess those are questions that I can wonder about on another day.

For now, here's an exit ticket for anybody who read this pointless ramble of mine:

Who were you most nervous to come out to? And if you're still in the closet, who are you most nervous to tell?

Signing off,

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