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I have been... Not well, today. As in. Um. Like, the poop variety. Right? Not an awesome thing to be dealing with - I'm in the bathroom every 30 minutes or so. I think I had too much sucralose yesterday or something.

Anyway, I'm dealing with that and then I had to deal with this.

I had some Shit (lol) to say, because I'm fucking done with these infants who think they can tell me what I am and am not allowed to do when I was getting beaten for my sexuality before they existed.

(The story is triggering, but if you want it, I'll give it.)

#Queerbashing #F-slur #Trauma #Gatekeeping #Lgbt

Les Misérables in the Minority

Today, I had the complete and utter privilege of attending Les Misérables at the Bord Gáis theatre here in Ireland, and a privilege it was. I was spellbound and overwhelmed by the ingenuity and mastery of the set designers, in awe of the heart-wrenching performances and I felt the utmost gratitude for the oppurtinity to witness such a masterpiece. Don't get me wrong, this show is nothing short of incredible.

And yet. And yet, well into its second act, I was forced to shrink into my seat as my sexuality was ridiculed and suppress my shame as my friends, peers, teachers and fellow audience laughed at the notion that my queerness "couldn't be helped". I hid my tears not because of the following scenes unfolding before me, I hid them because of the crushing doubt and injustice as I realised that once again that because of my sexual orientation, something as natural and harmless as simply being "queer", I realised that I had been singled out, alone in a crowd of cheap laughs, of spectators being entertained. I sat in my seat, clutching the new programme and ticket that had only moments before been a source of amazement and wonder. I swallowed my nausea and the desperate urge to stand and ask, "Why?"

"Why are you laughing at me?", I wanted to beg my friends, "Why are you letting them laugh?", I wanted to demand my teachers, "Why are you encouraging them to laugh?" I wanted to hurl towards the cast -

Instead, I sat. I sat and felt the final fading chuckles enclose me. I sat and longed to be home, away from a joke that jabbed like the jeers of the crowd and the people that accepted it as comedy.

I was not a part of the ovation moments later. After all, what's one more emphasis on the glaringly obvious that sets me apart from the rest? What's one more reason for others to stare and question? What's one more spotlight on what I'm doing wrong.

I'm not the only person to have ever sat alone as my hilarious defection is singled out. That is how I am sure I wasn't the only one in that hall who felt this way.

I couldn't tell my friends how upset I felt, I would never want to dampen such a wonderful experience.

Yet minorities, it appears, don't deserve such a privilege.

(tw f slur/queerphobia) My life was threatened today because I’m ace.

I’m still shaking, I don’t even know what I want to say here. I was threatened by another driver on my commute home from work tonight.

Shortly after getting on the freeway, I signaled to change lanes for the third time to get into the lane I normally take most of the way home. A reckless driver behind me also wanted to change lanes, but wasn’t signaling and attempted to speed up during the lane change. So I was already changing lanes after I had checked the lane I was changing into, so by the time I was half-way over the guy trying to cut me off from behind(I guess?) had to slam on his breaks, cause surprise, you do reckless shit, you can end up with this kind of situation because the rest of the drivers on the road aren’t bowing to your selfish whims.

So this guy was super-pissed at me, for following the law, I guess. And now he’s directly behind me blaring his horn at me. I was like, “Whatevs, he’ll get over it and life will continue on.” Nooooope. He kept blaring his horn at me for like a whole minute, and then he had an opening to peel back to the lane on the right and speed up so he could scream at me. He was hanging out of his window flipping me off and I had my windows up and music playing pretending I was ignoring him, but then I heard it, he was yelling “FAGGOT!” over and over again. The only thing he could have gotten that from was the ace-colored rainbow sticker on the back of my car since my husband wasn’t with me.

I was fucking terrified once I realized queerbashing was possible on top of this road rage. I had to just focus on the road in front of me and hope he didn’t do anything else. Luckily, there were more openings in traffic and he weaved in-and-out of traffic until I lost track of him. But when I was closer to home I was making sure he didn’t just give the appearance of driving off and that he wasn’t following me. I couldn’t even make it home before I broke down and was sobbing.

I’ve only felt something similar to this once before. I was with a few other cis gay men, but I didn’t feel so utterly terrified. It was scary, for sure, but I didn’t feel vulnerable as part of a group. This was so much worse. I was by myself. If he had chased me off the road, I could be dead. This is surreal. Like, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think he threatened me because I’m ace, specifically/solely/whatever. I think he threatened me because straight people don’t fucking care what our identity is as long as it’s not fucking Straight™.

#long post #f slur #queerbashing #gaybashing #aphobia #road rage #queerphobia #homophobia #threats #harassment #ace #a-spec #asexual #lgbtqiap+#mogai #queer #cogap

Queer Bashing by Tim Morrison - published January 28th

Queer Bashing by Tim Morrison – published January 28th

‘The first queerbasher McGillivray ever met was in the mirror.’ And here is the blurb From the revivalist churches of Orkney in the 1970s, to the gay bars of London and Northern England in the 90s, via the divinity school at Aberdeen, this is the story of McGillivray, a self-centred, promiscuous hypocrite, failed Church of Scotland minister, and his own worst enemy. Determined to live life on his…

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#Brodgar #McGillivray #Orkney Vole #Queerbashing #Tim Morrison

Stormé DeLarverie, Sylvia Rae Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson. Only one of these names were cast in the new Stonewall film... Not only that but out of the 43 IMDb named cast list only 5 women were cast as named characters, AND 4 unnamed random women WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK FOUGHT FOR THESE RIGHT CAUSE IT WASN'T ALL MEN. The Stonewall Riots were NOT about a white mans journey through his sexual confusion. This film is an abomination. WoC were you cast? No. FFS the spear head of Stonewall was PoC! How are people not getting this.

#queerbashing #cisdominated #loadoffuckingshit #whatthefuck #whothoughtthiswasok

last day at work.

i was only an hour into my shift. saw a client that i needed to talk to sitting in the smoking area, went out to talk to her. we got to chatting and i smoked a cigarette with her. in this time, two other clients came out. one of them, a young-ish white woman, went out to the street and started screaming. she came back and sat behind me. "hi," i said, tentatively. "FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING BITCH!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, leaning in to me. "you need to back off," i said. "NO I FUCKING DON'T! FUCK YOU!" she then proceeded to scream a bunch of things that didn't really make sense, at top volume. she did back off and went to the door, rang the bell to get back inside.

when she was waiting for one of my co-workers to let her in, she screamed, "you're a dyke! dyke! dyke! DYKE! DYKE! DYKE!" with each repetition she got closer to me, got a little louder, until she was standing with her face about five inches from mine. "you're just JEALOUS that you don't have a HARD DICK between your legs, you FUCKING DYKE! you want a HARD DICK so you can FUCK WOMEN!"

she did not break eye contact with me. i saw her face, twisted with sheer raw hatred. i really thought that she was going to hit me. she was so loud, so hateful. so completely out of control.

all i did was have a cigarette. all i did was say "hi." this is all i did, and this is what i get. the two clients who were out there with me were just stunned. they both said, "wow, she yells a lot, but i've never seen her go off on somebody like that." "yeah, don't worry about her, she's just crazy." inside, i saw her pointing at me, yelling, and another client shaking his head. i found out later that she was telling everyone that i am amber rose (?) and also the ringleader of a white supremacist gang (?!?).

my coworkers and i decided that she had to go, so we geared up to kick her out, but she was already packed and ready to go. saying that she couldn't be in the house with me because i make her unsafe.

i went in the back room and cried. my sweet co-workers were arguing with the supervisor on call, telling her that i should be allowed to go home early. i have spent too much time this year crying in the back room at work.

this is what i get. for being visibly queer. for being out there. for having an easy place to strike. being visibly queer is NOT a privilege. IT IS NOT. being visibly queer means shit like this happens. being visibly queer means never being able to forget that the world fucking hates you.

#violence cw #queerbashing #homophobia cw