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July 24, 2017 | by  | in Opinion |
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An anonymous prose (Queer Fear part 2)

CW: discussions of suicide, homophobia, and transphobia

 

Most LGBT+ people I know, myself included, have wanted to kill or hurt themselves at some point in their life because of their identity. Because they hate that they have to exist in this world the way we do. It’s so painful having your life already set out for you. Already having to be on defence. I’m 19 and I’m so so tired. Being queer has aged me by so many years. It’s also hurt me.

Every time I get called “she” I’m pretty sure a little bit of me dies. Every morning I wake up I can feel my breasts just sitting there, existing, aching to be removed from my body. Whenever my lovely mother calls me her daughter I want to cry. I want to go out and be able to meet girls without having to stay out past ten or go to a bar. I want people to ask for my pronouns and then use them. I want to look into the mirror and see myself rather than someone I don’t know at all.

I get so uncomfortable when people who aren’t LGBT+ bring up my being gay/queer, it makes me squirm. Like the way I used to when people talked about puberty. The way I do now when people talk about death.

I still feel like it needs to be a secret. I’ve never said it to my parents. They know, they acknowledge it, but I can’t. It still feels shameful after four years. Feels bad. Some days I can’t even say it to myself. I’m gay.” It feels fake, feels like a line from a script from a character who I don’t know, in a play about telling lies and pretending to be things you’re not so people will think you’re interesting.

Our people are dying like it’s what they were born to do. Our people are suffering like it’s their job and if they don’t turn up and do it then someone else will just take their place. I don’t want to be one of those dying/suffering queers but I think I already am. I hold so much sadness and it’s overflowing.

We have been this way forever. Angry, fighting, dying, loving, living, and everything in between. If I lived elsewhere in the world I could be dead. Either by my own hand or someone else’s. If the men in Chechnya lived here they’d probably be alive still. I feel like you can’t save anyone, not really. There are such oppressive regimes in place that will always be one step ahead. There to rip out all our hearts and make us scream for it to stop. That’s what this feels like. My siblings being ripped to pieces by a world that won’t allow them to breathe. A world that won’t even give them a damn chance to find themselves before tearing them down.

If you are cis/straight you will never understand. It is not possible. If you are straight you will never know what it is to be gay. If you are cis you will never know what it is to be trans. But I do. And my friends do. And we’re the ones who have to deal with it. Who have to live through it, despite everything being thrown at us.

IT GETS BETTER, they yell, but does it? Show me. I need every scrap of hope I can get my cold hands on. Maybe yeah, it’s 2017 and it is getting better, but it’s also getting worse. The world can’t keep up with us. Can’t love us, as we are. But somehow, against all odds, we continue to thrive, and that’s something to be damn proud of.

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