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From that last entry, you'd think that growing up queer in suburban Alaska was pretty rough. I didn't think I had it particularly hard at the time. It was not like I had it half as bad as it could have been. I felt lucky to have it as good as I did.
I was never in danger of being kicked out or disowned. I was more terrified of my father killing me if I got pregnant than for liking girls.
I wasn't a boy. I was a bisexual girl, and Shawn thought the idea was hot even though he had put me out of the Dating Zone.
Sure, my dad made a lot of nasty jokes about queers, but he stopped after Mama told him it was upsetting me.
My parents never told me I was going to hell, or tried to use religion as a bludgeon.
I knew two out schoolmates. I eventually became a third, in a school of about 400 students.
No one beat me.
It was impossible for me to become more socially isolated for being queer, because I was already socially isolated for being weird.
I was one of the Library Monkeys, and if I had had trouble, we protected our own.
I was able to get through the Day of Silence without tangling with actual homophobes. The only trouble I had was that Shawn did not take kindly to me doing a publicity stunt, and ripped my card up. He apologized the next day, after he learned that it was a worldwide event and not just some random idea of mine.
I was really glad Shawn apologized, because that meant I wouldn't have to stop being friends with him.
The scary-fundamentalist Christian guy was intimidated by me instead of the other way around, and eventually stopped asking me to go to his church events after I slapped him.
After my lesbian friend moved away and our gay friend graduated, I made more queer friends, even if most of them were very closeted.
I learned how to test who it was safe to come out to before risking myself.
Of all the things I needed counseling for after high school, being bi was not one. I escaped far more lightly than many peers.
I only lost one friend to suicide. I had not known he was gay. I did not know Chandler as well as I would have liked, but he was sunshine and hilarity and just *there*. His mom was Tay-Tay's kindergarten teacher.
I took my turn as mentor. I was sixteen, seventeen, serving as counselor and voice of wisdom for my people. We weren't that bad off. We were alive and we knew how to stay out of sight.
I was never in danger of being kicked out or disowned. I was more terrified of my father killing me if I got pregnant than for liking girls.
I wasn't a boy. I was a bisexual girl, and Shawn thought the idea was hot even though he had put me out of the Dating Zone.
Sure, my dad made a lot of nasty jokes about queers, but he stopped after Mama told him it was upsetting me.
My parents never told me I was going to hell, or tried to use religion as a bludgeon.
I knew two out schoolmates. I eventually became a third, in a school of about 400 students.
No one beat me.
It was impossible for me to become more socially isolated for being queer, because I was already socially isolated for being weird.
I was one of the Library Monkeys, and if I had had trouble, we protected our own.
I was able to get through the Day of Silence without tangling with actual homophobes. The only trouble I had was that Shawn did not take kindly to me doing a publicity stunt, and ripped my card up. He apologized the next day, after he learned that it was a worldwide event and not just some random idea of mine.
I was really glad Shawn apologized, because that meant I wouldn't have to stop being friends with him.
The scary-fundamentalist Christian guy was intimidated by me instead of the other way around, and eventually stopped asking me to go to his church events after I slapped him.
After my lesbian friend moved away and our gay friend graduated, I made more queer friends, even if most of them were very closeted.
I learned how to test who it was safe to come out to before risking myself.
Of all the things I needed counseling for after high school, being bi was not one. I escaped far more lightly than many peers.
I only lost one friend to suicide. I had not known he was gay. I did not know Chandler as well as I would have liked, but he was sunshine and hilarity and just *there*. His mom was Tay-Tay's kindergarten teacher.
I took my turn as mentor. I was sixteen, seventeen, serving as counselor and voice of wisdom for my people. We weren't that bad off. We were alive and we knew how to stay out of sight.
