Sarah O’Rourke, “I think everyone’s a bit bisexual”: identity erasure and biphobia (via owlswearglasses)
True story: Just today, I saw a post about a free self-defense class for LGBTQ people in my town. I considered calling, then I thought, “It’s not fair for me to ask for a spot in the class, because I don’t really qualify for it.” This because, even though my orientation letter is right smack in the middle, being bi somehow means I’m not queer enough to deserve something that is being offered specifically to non-heterosexuals. And this isn’t a rejection from the self-defense place; I’ve disqualified myself!
I do understand my main reasoning: as a person who has been less targeted for hate violence than many of my friends, I was thinking, why should I (invisible/non-gender-threatening/no obvious markers that shout non-straight) take a space that could be used by an ultra-nelly/genderfucking/super-out-and-loud/target-on-their-fucking-chest/queer’s queer kind of person? On the one hand I was being compassionate toward my fellow sexual nonconformists, but on the other I was completely erasing my identity as one of them. I have been doing this all my life, denying my LGBTQness to myself and to others. Weirdly, I’ve never been closeted about my sexual orientation, but somehow I still erase myself as LGBTQ, because all I am is not-straight; because I don’t visibly challenge the mono-hetero-missionary-breeder paradigm.
I’ve been taught all my life that bisexuals don’t exist; that my orientation isn’t legitimate, that my feelings aren’t authentic, and that I’m not “properly” queer. I guess that deep down inside I’d bought into it far more than I ever knew, but I didn’t realize just how much I negated myself until I didn’t feel authorized to sign up for the LGBTQ self-defense class.
I promise not to tell you that it’s because they like you.
when the teachers call home to tell me that
you pushed them to the ground after you
I’ll take you out of school early and buy
you your favorite ice cream.
when you get older and the boys
try to touch you when you don’t want to be touched
I’ll look at you like the sun when you come home
with anger in your fists.
they all tell you not to fight fire with fire
but that is only because they are afraid of your flames.
when the boys yell after you like hyenas
you yell back, baby.
I will not teach you to be afraid of your anger
so that you look for it in others.
I will not make you be the better person
because you already are.
you wanna fight ‘em? fight ‘em.
don’t you dare apologize for the fierce love
you have for yourself
and the lengths you go to preserve it.
when the boys try to tell you to soften up
I hope you make them bleed with your edges.
I hope you remember that you are not theirs
that their disappointment in you is not yours.
when the boys come to your door with pretty words and
I hope you show them the anger in yours.
I hope you show them just how strong your mommy
thinks you are.
I hope you show them the animal they can’t always
see in their own reflection.
when the boys come with the intention of hurting you
my advice will always stay the same, my darling:
give ‘em hell."
To my future daughter.
”they all tell you not to fight fire with fire
but that is only because they are afraid of your flames.”
If I ever have a daughter I am printing this out and framing it on my wall
this is heartbreakingly beautiful
"wow! who taught you to do your makeup like that?"
"wow! who taught you how to make that?"
"wow! who taught you-"
why do you know so much about sex
why are you so calm about porn
why do you hate people so much
why don’t you ever hang out with anyone from your school
what do you mean you hate this genera—