For the Mascs, the Femmes, and the They/Thems

I love us. Can you see it? The fierce empathy, ardent compassion, and profound commitment I feel for all of us fill me when other people and things can't–or won't. I sacrifice enthusiastically because I know the connections, jobs, or family I lose for being my authentic self not only prepares the way for an improved quality of life for me but allows me to be present for those who need queer community and representation. I'm better when I'm honest with myself and others about who I am.

I have experienced such ambivalence about my queerness, though; it can still overwhelm me at times, but I don't shy away from giving it space. I provide room for these feelings because I want to be better than yesterday. I now understand that the complexity of my identity unravels and reveals with time, and my dysphoria and uncertainty stem from decades of heteronormative social conditioning. Softness and emotional intelligence are two things Western culture heavily lacks, particularly in the United States, so learning such skills has been a herculean effort.

Years of therapy, continued psychosocial learning, and proper, consistent use of medication for my bipolar disorder helped my sadness and self-loathing monumentally. The admission that I wasn't being myself and that this was the root of my unhappiness, as well as the commitment to overcome my internalized shame, became the final nail in the proverbial coffin of my deep-seated dysphoria and depression.

Supporting others with this newfound clarity and peace seems the most important work I could ever do. It isn't about "fixing" or "saving" people. It isn't about feeling good about myself, being kind, or being philanthropic. I choose to be present for people because our collective survival depends upon it. The only way we live well is if individuals commit to us, not I. This looks like solidarity: helping people whenever you can, being emotionally honest and vulnerable with your community, and understanding that your liberation is entirely wrapped up in theirs.

We are an entangled mess: social interactions are nearly constant thanks to the advent of texting and social media, the imaginary line between foreign and domestic policy gradually disappears, and the weaponization of identity politics ensures we are constantly divided despite all that connects us... but there is strength in these entanglements. Power exists in our pluralism.

Here's what I would say to those among you kind and earnest readers who are queer: continue the work towards self-actualization, whatever that looks like for you. The importance of self-honesty and commitment to true and developed personal values, as well as the time spent learning yourself through articulating those endeavors, is irrefutably paramount to healing, individually and collectively.

I must also emphasize the issue of safety–above all else, stay safe. Living authentically can mean being visible, and visibility without social power is dangerous to marginalized communities. Consider your circumstances while weighing my words. My advice is not one-size-fits-all, but my promise to remain visible and continue the fight for a more equitable society is.

Remember, you are profoundly important and deeply loved by me and countless others you know and have yet to meet. Stay awhile.