Being proud

June is nearly over, and with that Pride month comes to an end. I've only written one thing on it so far, and there are various reasons for that which I won't really get into. Evan Edinger recently released a video about Pride month talking about how he isn't proud of his sexuality because it isn't something that he's accomplished, much like how he isn't proud of his height. And while I understand what he's trying to say and do, I kinda disagree. People in the queer community are often the targets of hate and discrimination, much like all minorities, and we must stand up in the face of that hate. And the easiest way to stand up to hate, is to be proud of who you are. So, to Evan, I say this: we need to be proud of who we are, even if we're being proud of something we were born with.

There are a lot of times that I'm scared of being myself, but Pride always gives me a relatively safe space to be myself. I am proud of who I am, but life is a continuous journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance, and I haven't fully accepted all that I am yet. As a non-binary person, I'm not 100% certain how I want to express that, so it's not something that I showcase in my daily life, and possibly it's not something that those close to me even remember or think about. I know I've asked on my twitter for people to use gender neutral pronouns when referencing me, but I have no way of knowing if anyone actually does. It's not like I hear them talking about me to other people, so unless people outright tell me, I have no clue and I'm too 'scared' to ask. By scared, I just mean that I don't want to annoy people by asking them if they're using my preferred pronouns. Which is fucked up. It's my gender, I should be comfortable with asking people to use my pronouns, unless subconsciously I'm not comfortable with my own gender yet. But that's a whole other story for another day.

Pride is a time to be proud of who we are as the queer community. To be proud of everything that we have accomplished, and everything we have survived. It is my personal belief that we, as members of the queer community, should be proud of our sexualities and genders. We have to be, so that future generations can look at us, see all that we've overcame, and see that we can still smile.

Remember, none of us are ever alone. We are a community. We are a family. And we are proud.

#NationalComingOutDay

                Today is National Coming Out Day! Which can be a very exciting time for those who come out today! And for those of us who have already, it is a day to celebrate with others. I’ve written before about the amazing freedom that comes with coming out, and I’ve written about the perils as well.

                I didn’t come out on National Coming Out Day, I came out on my own terms and at my own time. I was planning on coming out as non-binary today, but I couldn’t keep that to myself any longer, so I did it at an earlier date. And that’s kinda what I want to talk about. Not me or my coming out, but coming out in general.

                Today could be the day you come out. Maybe the feeling of comradery and solidarity is what you needed to be able to come out. And that’s awesome! But, the main thing you need to be before coming out is ready. This can mean multiple things! It can mean that you know you’ll be safe, that you’re comfortable with telling people, and that you want to do it.

                Never come out because of a day on the calendar. Don’t do it to be part of the hashtag. Do it for yourself. Do it because you’re ready. And do it because you want to. Coming out is possibly the most personal thing you will do, and could even be the most important. So do not rush it. Don’t be pressured into it. Do it for yourself, on your time!

                And don’t come out as an ally. Today isn’t for that. I mean, sure, congrats on being a decent human being who supports equal rights, but don’t use today for that.  

For Orlando

                Yesterday, tragedy struck the queer community. A lone gunman walked into a gay bar in Orlando, Florida, and committed the largest mass shooting and hate crime in American history. With his legally obtained assault rifle, he opened fire and killed 50 people, severely injuring 53 more. That morning 103 families were woken up to some of the worst news imaginable.

                The pain those families are going through is unimaginable, and the knowledge that their children died because of hate must only make it worse. I’ve always considered the queer community to be a family, because we are, and the news devastated me. I don’t know any of the victims, but yesterday I wept for hours because my family lost 50 brothers. I felt their deaths in my heart, and I wept. I could barely focus, and with each new piece of information, with each new tweet or message of support, my sorrow grew. I was heartened by the love and support I was seeing, but for each message of support there dozens of messages purporting hate. Fundamentalists saying that if “those people” weren’t gay it wouldn’t have happened! Racists coming out of everywhere shouting to get the Muslims out of their country. With each passing hour each side grew in numbers. To top it off, news agencies weren’t even calling it a gay bar. They were trying to downplay the hate crime and make it all about the shooter.

                The shooter doesn’t matter in this narrative, what matters is the people who were lost. Good men with families and friends and lovers. The incalculable number of people who were hurt by the hate. The brave people who went out to the vigils last night. The queer people, who with renewed fear in their hearts, stood proudly in the face of this hate and went out. The people who spent all day yesterday getting any and all information out. And most of all, the victims.

                This attack would be vile anytime of year, but the fact that it happened during pride month, a time when the queer community celebrates and feels safe, makes it all the worse. I was at a pride event on Saturday. I was on a euphoric high all day, and I woke Sunday still feeling the love! And then I saw the news. The transition was jarring. I got angry first. I lashed out at those responsible for the hate. I lashed out at the antiquated gun laws that allowed this to happen. Then I got bitter. And then, finally, I mourned for the loss of those 50 brothers I never got a chance to meet. I sat and wept, quietly and privately, for an hour or so. And then I acted. I spoke about the attack. I shared information. In the end, whatever contributions I made were small, but I did what my situation allowed me to do to help. To everyone who thinks that they did not do enough yesterday, so long as you spread love and support, not hate and bile, you did enough. If you made it through the day, you did enough.

                To the families of the victims, I cannot express my sympathy and empathy. I cannot imagine the loss you are feeling right now. You have my love.

                To the queer community, we are shaken right now. But we showed the world that we can endure horrific acts of hate without turning to violence. We showed the world that no matter what they do to us, we will still stand strong with our family. That we will continue to love and live. We showed the world that we are a family.

                I will continue to mourn the loss of my brothers, and I will live for them. I will go out with a renewed vigor and purpose. I will stand and speak for those who cannot. I will not forget this vicious attack on our family, but I will not react in violence, I will react in love. And I will continue to act in love so long as I live.

                Stay strong. Stay safe.

                All my love. 

The Perils of Coming Out

      Let's talk about coming out. I'm not telling you my coming out story again, I mean let's talk about the emotions and reservations, and fears and hopes that people have with their coming out. Because there is a lot of stuff going on behind the scenes with coming out. There's a lot that doesn't necessarily get talked about. So, let's talk about it.
      Coming out is an emotional experience, no matter how it is received by the people around you. If the reaction is positive, you're on cloud nine! You're feeling the love that is surrounding you, and you're getting beautiful messages of support. If the reaction is negative, the feelings become mixed. You're feeling free because you get to be yourself now! but at the same time, you're wondering if you should've waited because now people aren't talking to you, your family could hate you now, and you could be genuinely frightened for your life. All those negative feelings are magnified if you come out as a teen. You've got your classmates to worry about, teachers to worry about, family, friends, society. And if you live in certain parts of the world, families are legally allowed to disown you, forcing you onto the street. There is a frightening statistic out of the States, that 25% of homeless youth there are queer, and the majority of that 25% are homeless because they came out to their parents/guardians and got kicked out.
       As a queer person, thinking about coming out, you know all the horror stories. You have friends who came out to a negative response. You know the numbers of queer people with depression and suicidal thoughts. You know the community faces persecution from almost all sectors of society. You know that the persecution doesn't just come from religious fundamentalists, but that it can come from everyone no matter what they believe. And you know that no matter what country you live in, you can face hatred and violence for just being the person you were born as.
      So why come out? What makes the risks worth it?
      The freedom. As a queer person, we've learned to lie to everyone around us. We've learned to hide our true nature. We wear so many different masks on a given day, that we can lose ourselves, and we do this just to stay safe. Coming out allows us to take these masks off. It allows us to be ourselves all of the time, instead of just in our homes and with close friends. We look at all of the risks, we know that they could happen to us, but we know what we get when we finally come out: freedom to be true to ourselves. Groups throughout history have fought for freedom time and time again. People have sacrificed their lives for freedom. People willingly die for a chance to be free. And that's why we come out, even in the face of hardship, pain, banishment, and death. We come out for freedom.
       Even with knowing why we're doing it, it's still a scary thing. It can take days to build up the courage to tell that first person, even after deciding that it is time. For me, I told people through text because I was too scared to come out in person in case the person reacted negatively. I talk about it in my vlogs a lot, but again that's not really in person. I can't have a conversation about it in real time. I'm in this weird limbo with my coming out, I'm out in the most public way possible (hello YouTube and blogs), yet I have no idea if the people I see everyday have any idea that I'm not straight. So I'm out, openly, but do people actually know? Because of this ambiguity I'm still living like I'm half in the closet. I'm out, but. I've got my freedom, but. I still get uncomfortable speaking to people face to face about it, because with each new person the fears become fresh and relevant again.
       Coming out is a daunting prospect, and it's something that we shouldn't really need to worry about anymore, but it seems like it's becoming something that we need to worry more and more about with each passing year. I mean, North Carolina just passed possibly the most homophobic and transphobic law in modern times! And NC is in the country that literally prides itself on freedom! Instead of being something that you can feel comfortable with, coming out has become something you need to think about and plan. You need to time it. You have to be careful with it. And most importantly, you have to feel safe about it. Which sounds ridiculous! We need to feel safe to tell someone that we life a different gender(s/no gender) than what is societally expected of us!
        Straight people, even allies, can never fully understand how daunting it is to come out. They've never had to worry about it, because they're straight, and religions and culture constantly tell the world that being straight is right. Being something other than straight is just wrong and something to be fixed. That's why gay conversion therapies still exist, even in Canada.
       But, god, it feels so good when you finally come out. When you finally can be honest. That freedom feels so good, even when it paints a target on your back. Being able to walk out your front door, 100% you, is an amazing feeling. And that's why coming out is worth the risk. A life hiding, is not a real life at all.    

Progress for progress sake

    I started working on the body of my article today. I've got it planned out, and quotes chosen, and now it's time to get to work! I'm starting with two less interviews than I planned, and one less than I would like, but my deadline is coming up, and I need to get it done. It's been awhile since I've worked with a word count, it's going to take some extreme editing to keep it around my mark and not wildly over. Contrary to these blog posts, I can be relatively long winded... You're all surprised, I'm sure. Shocked even.
    I showed a friend of mine what I have so far, and she's hooked and excited to read the rest of it! And because of my ego, I'm not going to let anyone else read it in case they tell me it sucks. Other than my editor, because she has to read it before it's published... Maybe I can work out a system where I'm the writer and the editor, and the publishers okay with it. Alas, such a system does not exist and probably should never actually be a thing.
      As I'm working on this article there are a ton of conflicting feelings going through me. I've never been this stressed about something I've written, and I've never been this excited about something that I'm writing! One of my biggest dreams could come true because of this article! And that is so exciting! And one of my biggest dreams could crash and burn because of this article, and that is so stressful.
    I know I have the support of a lot of people, and not just those closest to me! I know the people whom I have interviewed are backing me up to. They want their stories told, they think that it can help people, and they are trusting me to get it out there. It's an incredible feeling.

More than a Sexuality

     I've come to the realization that my blog views are wildly inconsistent. Like, all over the board. From several hundred in a short time, to maybe a dozen over a week. That's so crazy. I'm writing all of them, I try and put the same amount of effort into them, but still the inconsistency.

     I blame it on the communists. 

     I'm kidding Russia! I don't blame you!

    The posts with the most views are always my ones about asexuality, which I am so happy about! I've written posts on it that have been read by thousands of people! That's my goal! Get the word out there, show the world we exist. At the same time however, I am more than just my sexuality. I don't want to capitalize on just one aspect of my life. I want to showcase all my individual facets. I only wish my "ordinary" posts would receive as much attention. 

     I got sidetracked by my phone and I have lost my train of thought. Drat. 

     I love who I am. I love the community that I am a part of because of my sexuality. I love writing about it and answering people's questions. But I also love science fiction, fantasy, film and television, video games, board games, the outdoors, animals! But whenever I write about those things, no one cares (a slight exaggeration, people are still reading them). I just wish that I could write a post about one of my other passions that would take fire as quickly as my ones on asexuality. 

     I feel oddly guilty at the thought of only writing about sexuality, like I'm selling part of myself out just to gain readership!

    I want to bring awareness, I want bring it into the public spectrum, but it's not everything that I am. I feel like all activists feel this way at some point or another. Anytime someone is fighting for something there is that worry that it will become their whole identity. The world will associate them with their cause and not anything else. Kinda like an actor being typecast, but on a more fundamental level. 

    I want to be known as myself, not my cause. I'm okay with people knowing who I am because of my cause, but they need to know that I am more than that.

    This is all a little confusing, but it's just kinda where my head is at right now, Tomorrow's blog will be different, a little more focused.

    I'm asexual, but I am more than my sexuality. 

Asexuality and Loneliness

       In today's post I am going to write about loneliness. Not the "no one loves me" kind of loneliness, but the "there's no one like me" kind of loneliness.
       I just did a quick search for Facebook groups on asexuality, I was looking especially for ones that were in Saskatchewan. Finding a total of ZERO, I expanded my search to encompass all of Canada. I found four. And many of them were closed groups where you had to get approved to join, and the ones that were open had regular posts reminding the users to report anyone who was being acephobic. For those who aren't regularly involved within the LGBTQIA+ community, acephobia is much like homophobia, but dealing with asexuality. The reasons these warning have to be continually posted is simple and frightening: the general public doesn't believe in our existence, or when they do, they don't understand. And when the general public doesn't believe or understand something, they mock the people who are part of it.
       This isn't limited to the general public either. I've had members of the queer community ask me ignorant questions, and belittle my experiences as not "gay enough". Obviously this isn't meant to say that everyone is acephobic, on the contrary there are many people who are supportive and have genuinely wanted to learn more about the ace community.
      The sad fact is that so many aces keep it to themselves because they don't want to be questioned or insulted or told that they're broken. The feeling of brokenness is something many aces have in common. Asexuality isn't taught in schools, it's not shown on mainstream television (and when it is most often the characters are treated like jokes or people that need to be fixed), so it is hard for many people to find about it. Many aces, especially teenagers constantly surrounded by hormones and a hyper-sexualized cultures, wonder if they are broken because they are not feeling the sexual attraction that society deems necessary for everyday living! I buried my feelings of brokenness in religion and told myself that my lack of sexual attraction was simply because I was super Christian. It wasn't until I was 24 and stumbling around the internet that I saw a mention of asexuality for the first time. My first thought was not a gracious one. I thought Man, they have names for everything these days! I don't feel sexual attraction, I don't call myself anything! It took me a long time to fall asleep that night because I kept thinking about it, and the next day I spent hours researching it.
      It took some time for me to admit to myself that I was asexual. I wasn't ashamed, I just didn't have the knowledge. I didn't want to admit that I had been lying to myself, covering up my sexuality with other things.
       I didn't want to be honest with myself.
      I didn't want to be alone.
      Asexuality exists in a very small percentage of people: one percent. At most. Studies have said that up to 1% of adults are asexual. Compared to the 10-20% that homosexual or bisexual. We live in a world that barely accepts or understands gay people, and they represent up to one fifth of the entire population! Now imagine how the world reacts to a group of people that make up one one hundredth of the population!
       I have a few friends within the asexuality community, friends that are scattered around the entire planet. Some of them are still trying to come to terms with the fact that they aren't broken, some of them lie to people about their sexuality, while others are actively trying to make themselves "straight" because society says that they should be.
       This summer I was at the fifth largest pride parade in the world. The Vancouver Pride Parade is an event that has over 650 000 people participating, which makes it the largest parade period in Western Canada. In the parade were groups representing the trans communities, the gay communities, the bi communities, the lesbian communities, the fetish communities, allies, two-spirit, non-binary, people representing pan-sexuality. But no one for the asexual community. I had never felt like I was more apart and more separate from something in my entire life. I watched the parade with a super cute lesbian couple and a gay guy. They loved it and gave off great energy. I loved it too, but I still felt left out because there was nothing in the parade, no one in the 650 000, that was representing my community. Once the euphoria of being part of something so large wore off, I felt this immense loneliness.
        About a month and a half before this I had been at the Saskatoon Pride Parade, a parade that was about one percent the size of Vancouver's, and there was a slight difference. There were people in the parade with signs saying they were asexual. Living proof of other asexuals! Right in front of my face! It was amazing! I wasn't alone! In a crowd of thousands, I wasn't alone, yet in a crowd of hundreds of thousands I was. Strange feelings.
          Being asexual is a strange experience. On one hand you're now part of a larger community with people like you, but on the other hand you're also being excluded by larger communities who deny your very existence. All at once you're part of this large community and alone at the same time. The dichotomy of our existence.
        I love who and what I am, I wouldn't change it for anything. But I do feel alone at times, and I would love to have ace friends closer to home. For now I am content with the friends I have around the world. Just knowing that they are out there cuts the loneliness down.
        To any fellow aces reading this, you are not alone, you are not broken. I love each and every one of you. To everyone else reading this, thank you for taking your time to read something that doesn't directly involve you.
       For now, loneliness is just one of the many things that an ace has to accept, but this will not always be the case. Until that day, I love you, and I am here for all of you.