on queerness and pride
reflections on little and big moments of queerness in my life
Pride month is always an interesting time. As a nonbinary lesbian of color, it’s often hard to feel included in these celebrations, knowing that there are still issues around intersectionality. However, June is usually a time that brings a lot of reflection about my identity.
With the rise of rainbow capitalism, I’ve seen conversations brought up about gays who make their queerness their whole identity. While I’m terrified that I’m one of them, as I’ve had a lot of people, especially in high school, make remarks about how my lesbianism is one of my defining traits, I realized that queerness doesn’t define me as much as I create meaning for what my queer identity is.
My queerness is embedded in every part of my life, so much so that I stopped thinking about it. It’s most obvious through my writing. Most of my creative writing pieces, including short stories and poems, are about lesbians. I often write about movies and TV shows I write, and the majority of these media pieces include queer characters. Queerness itself is an art that I’ve explored by stringing together words in an attempt to capture this amorphous concept.
But another area of my life that’s inherently queer is my friendships. Growing up, I didn’t have a ton of queer friends (though most, if not all, of my 8th-grade friend group have come out as queer since we graduated middle school), but in my early adulthood, I’ve made so many queer, and in particular, lesbian, friends.
This isn’t even something that I have been intentional about but rather accidentally fallen into. I suppose I’m more naturally drawn to queer people because we have a deeper understanding of each other. I don’t have to explain myself or change the way I talk or act around other queer people. I’m allowed to be my authentic self. I’m especially grateful to be friends with many queer people of color who make me feel like I have a place in the community.
Having just one other queer person around makes all the difference. During my first year in college, I was the only queer person on my sports team. And in my second year, someone else who identifies as queer joined the team and began using my proper name and pronouns around my teammates. This helped my teammates realize how important being called my preferred name is to me, and it wouldn’t have happened if not for just one other queer person helping stand up for me.
Of course, I’m infinitely grateful to have been accepted by friends for the most part, and it’s important to recognize that there are tons of queer people who don’t have the same experience as me. In fact, I think that’s part of the beauty of queerness: there isn’t one way to be queer.
I often refer to the rainbow capitalism portrayal of queerness as “Love Simon queerness” in that the stereotypical image for queerness is a cis white gay man, but that’s aboslutely not true. Queerness itself implies that there isn’t one definition. Sexuality and gender are both spectrums, but neither is linear, nor is the process of coming into one’s queer identity.
Though I’ve talked about how queerness is this wide, all-encompassing idea, it’s also present in small interactions. I find queerness whenever I don’t have to explain why I’m shopping in the men’s section for clothing. I find queerness in knowing I can openly talk about dates I’ve been going on to my friends without having to explain that I date women and nonbinary people, not men. I find queerness in my friends having similar music tastes as me and easily talk about artists like Mitski and Hozier without getting blank stares in return.
Queerness is something that’s always been fiercely essential to my being, and it hurts to know that there are many people in my life who still do not know, and likely will never know, about that part of me. It’s complicated being the child of Asian immigrants, having a very traditional family, and growing up in an extremely small town. While I’m sad to know that they will never really know me for who I am because I obscure this part of my identity from them, I feel that it’s important for me to also get a say on how to protect myself while still giving justice to my queer identity.
The journey of understanding my queerness is lifelong, and I’m more than overjoyed to be embarking on it.
To end on a hopeful note, here is an inconclusive list of queer moments that I often think about:
Visiting my city’s historically LGBT district to attend a queer film festival and watch Bottoms before its official release
Signing a “Lesbians for Loona” flag while in line for a concert
Letting my gay Asian friends dye my hair red over Thanksgiving break
Going to the “lesbian part” of a city with my lesbian friends to get brunch and meet for the first time in our 4 year friendship
Attending the live recording of the radio drama adaptation of my lesbian short story “soulmates”
Visiting New York with my lesbian friend and staying over at her lesbian friends’ apartment
Getting my haircut short for the first time ever and absolutely not eating up that look
Watching a shitty lesbian rom-com during an all-nighter the first time I visited one of my lesbian friends at his college
Here’s to many more queer moments in the future :)