omg i don’t really blog anymore, you guys…

but if i do, catch me at hiphopisforlovers.com

or the guest posts i did at feministe.us/blog

pow!

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A Mind Dump: Hetero Men, Ending My Gaycation, and What If He Wants to Watch?

(I know I pretty much never write here any longer. Consider this my return.)

I have a lot of moments of sheer brilliance while in the bathroom. Don’t we all? In the shower yesterday, washing my baby fro, I thought about what happens when a heterosexual man tells me “lesbians are cool,” or something similar. As if being a lesbian (cisgender specifically, as trans* identified lesbians are often not on the straight dude’s radar) is somehow a pair of sneakers or a hoodie or some fucked up slogan tee shirt. Like someone’s identity can be or is trendy. Not a good look, straight dude(s).

Of course, these conversations have been had plenty times: male gaze, blah blah blah, I’m a person and not a fantasy, etc. But it’s pulling at me specifically because I am a queer identified (pansexuals, stand up!) woman who’s been seriously considering ending a self-imposed gaycation. That is, I stopped dating hetero men for a while — because I often found myself being stressed out by the dynamics of navigating these dealings outside of a fuck buddy relationship. I often found myself chirping up to defend and explain queer folks, queer culture, etc. It became exhausting. I chose to take a step back. Maybe I was too sensitive. Maybe it felt like too much work. “You can’t make everybody get it,” I’d tell myself. It was/ is true. Everyone isn’t gonna recognize their privileged thinking and or behavior. Everyone isn’t gonna stand down long enough to understand that intent doesn’t make oppressive behavior any less oppressive.

So, here I am, thinking maybe I can take another swing at dating straight men. And then the alarm bells go off in my head: BUT THEY’RE GONNA FETISHIZE YOOOOOU! Because some folks don’t get the complexities of queer identities. Because some folks (straight and gay alike!) still think bisexualiy is the place you go before you’re “just all the way” gay or something. I’ve basically given myself an unreasonable amount of around feeling safe when entering the dating world.

I decided that, instead of building my angst, I should identify what’s bothering me, and see if I can’t navigate it on my own. Here are my concerns, in no order of importance:

  • I am queer, and automatically perceived as a threat to any/ every heterosexual man’s sexuality.
  • I have to explain myself, and maybe even justify my existence to somebody.
  • If he asks to watch me have sex w/ another woman, what do I say?
  • I can’t bring these motherfuckers around my queer friends, I’ll feel like a traitor/ asshole/ saboteur if I do. I can’t prove that someone’s an ally, or that they are “okay” or cool.

I had to stop myself. Where was all this coming from? The short answer: kyriarchy.  The long answer: what I’ve lived through, what I’ve seen happen with other folks, what folks have told me about their lives. Because many USians are socialized to regard the experiences/ viewpoints of white hetero able bodied men as the norm, any single person who does not fall in line is considered “other,” right? So I’m black, fat, queer, and not interested in centering a worldview that counts me as less important. There’s friction. And I’m not afraid of friction. I just don’t know if I want to be The One Who Teaches You Better.

That is, I have made it a point to build a community of loving, affirmative folks around myself. Folks to whom I don’t need to explain my queerness, or answer questions like, “Why would you date a woman who dresses like a man, instead of an actual man?” or “What do you mean ‘self-defined woman’?” I’m tired of that. That’s the world I live in any damn way. I feel like I deserve sanctuary in my interpersonal relationships.

So I guess it could be argued that I ain’t for everybody. And I know I’m not. It would seem, though, that the thing that most sticks in my craw: what I do in bed w/ another consenting adult — regardless of gender identity — isn’t for anyone but the two of us. It’s not for anyone else’s enjoyment, not for anyone else’s pleasure, unless we make it that way. Further, the idea that anyone should watch two cis women fucking suggests specifically that the relationship between these two cisgender women is sexual only. That there is no romance. That emotional intimacy can only take place in a relationship in a cis hetero relationship. Not true. I mean, I know that. But why do I HAVE TO TELL PEOPLE THIS?

Ugh. More later. I’ve been at this an hour already and have somewhere to be.

a few quick notes about no wedding, no womb

i wrote it on tumblr, but for those of you who don’t read me there, i thought it’d be a good idea to share my beliefs on this quote-unquote movement here. (google the whole thing, i’m not giving them any linkage)

because i tweeted it but didn’t blog it:

the whole quote-unquote movement is gender essentialist. point blank. period.

the finger wagging and shaming aside, this initiative seeks to push all MAAB (male assigned at birth) and FAAB (female assigned at birth) persons to marry one another, regardless of being self-identified as trans, or being gay or lesbian self-identified.

because of the illegality, in most states, of what’s called same-sex marriage, this initiative cannot include cisgender gay, lesbian, or bisexual (or pan or omnisexual) ppl or any trans-identified people. by its own definition, no less.

monogamy is not the default setting for all humans. it is a choice. compulsory monogamy and heterosexuality encroach on the rights of an individual to do what they wish with their bodies.

furthermore, there has been little to no discussion by the NWNW folks regarding causations of single parenthood & correlations between single motherhood & the catastrophic outcomes they seem to think are rampant in the black community.

encouraging anyone to marry for the sake of a child is dangerous. ask any one of my friends who has lived through a domestic violence situation, either as the scarred child or as the abused spouse.

& if i say shit else about this, it’ll be because someone on team finger wag has come at my neck w/ some bullshit.

to no one in particular:

(from my tumblr)

fear is what keeps your reflexes razor-sharp when there’s danger about. in case of fire, alligator, beehive attack, or hailstorm, you need fear. it’ll kinda clear your mind of the bullshit that doesn’t count.

fear is not for everyday stuff like going to the grocery store, calling your bank, smiling at someone you think is attractive, or even getting out of bed to go shower.

if you’re paralyzed by fears that you recognize as abnormal compared to your usual stuff-to-be-afraid-of (stingray fear is not the same as fear of answering the door for the UPS guy), please reach out & get yourself some support. talk to someone you trust. talk to someone who works in a supportive capacity for folks who need to be directed towards help. please, please, please, PLEASE do not let it swallow you up.

this has been yet another “i’ve been there, please don’t do it to yourself” production.

peace to the brokenhearted.

it’s hot.

i said i was gonna blog more here. it hasn’t happened.
but i have a purty new theme!
& i finally started working on my links page.

i’m in flux.
my life is changing.
i am evolving, etc.

in other news: my food blog will go live soon, as a dot-net. and that means everyone can get them a piece of the dream.
or something.
i’m rambling.
crushes still suck.
if you know where i am, find me on tumblr.

crushes suck.

so do broken laptops.
but i added wordpress to my blackberry, so… y’all can prepare for some intensive blogging foolishness.

too caffeinated to sleep

& i don’t want to blog.
i feel like ppl are reading this blog who have no idea what it means (meant?) to me when i most need(ed) an outlet.
i feel like i’m censoring myself,
silencing myself so i don’t step on anyone’s hypersensitive, bitchmade, i’m-gonna-cry-wolf toes.
well.
that most certainly felt better than holding it in. there, i’ve said it: there are folks who subscribe to rss feeds of this very slice of interwebs who’d rather pick fights than love themselves
who’d rather assume the mantle of victimhood than fashion themselves into survivors
& who always think someone’s out to fucking get them simply by disagreeing w/ them. stupid, i know.
& even more stupid: i let that shit hold me back.
so.
gloves are off.
sensitive thugs, y’all all need hugs.
but don’t come the fuck over here with it.
yay, i made a cryptic blog post. fiqah, are you happy now? :-P it’s a post. it is. even if it’s only significant to ME. bit by bit, i’m coming back.

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