After 15 Years of LGBTQ Living, I Forget I am Queer Sometimes

Many of us are aware society likes to label things. Being able to slap a label onto someone usually puts them into a neat box that others can process easier. I find that labels are necessary for certain situations. I like to know if someone is Democrat or Republican. I can’t imagine not labeling street signs or freeway exits. Restaurants deserve a good label so we all know the food we are putting into our bodies.

People though? Well, I agree that labels for individuals can be helpful for many reasons. Labels can help us identify marginalized populations. Labels can assist us in finding those who are like us and to help us gravitate towards our tribes. But they should not be the things we base someone's entire being on.

Too queer, not queer enough, the right queer

I am a lesbian. I am a masculine lesbian who is active in the LGBTQ community and who has been out and proud since I was 17. Which was almost 15 years ago now. Dear god.

But sometimes, I forget I am queer. I have lived this queer lifestyle for so long I forget that I am different than the norm. I forget that I am also part of a marginalized community. Others in the heteronormative society I push through daily see my queerness as the shining light of my persona. Not I.

I have not always been active in my community. Other LGBTQ folks have always been my preferred group to run in but I never quite felt like I fit in nicely with any queer subset group.

I was never masc enough for the masc lesbians. Not feminine enough to hang with the fems. And I am not straight. Not even a little. I struggled to find a group or community that just allowed me to be myself and not some sub-category of queer.

Until my late 20’s I always found myself conforming in some way to find a tribe of my own. I wanted a community pack of individuals and friends whom I could rely on and stick with.

I would neatly pack away any feminine aspects of myself when hanging out with more masculine women. I would start using terms like “bro” to refer to my friends, I stopped wearing the little bit of makeup that I do and I began choosing only clothing and haircuts that would make society label me as masculine. Those were my people!

No. No, they were not.

I transitioned into wearing makeup again, embracing my soft side and flocking to the more feminine side of the queer community. This didn’t work out well.

For one, lesbians all want to sleep with their friends.

WHY DO WE DO THIS.

Second, I wasn’t feminine enough for this crowd either. The stereotypes were lost on me and I just wanted to be. ME.

But ME felt really lonely. Me felt like no one would ever understand me or get me. Me felt like they had no community at all.

A community can be created, not found sometimes

Flash forward to a few years ago. After over a decade out of the closet, I realized that my community was made by my hands. I didn’t need to search for my people because those nearest and dearest to me were my people. Their orientation didn’t matter. Their gender or lack thereof didn’t matter. Their ideas of gender roles didn’t matter.

All that mattered was for the first time ever, I was not trying to win this race to the finish line of the biggest queer. I didn’t want to think day in and day out about how I was gay and what could I do today to make that apparent. What could I do in a day to make sure that my community wanted me?

I didn’t need to change myself. I needed to change those around me. And so I did. At almost 32 years old, I have the smallest friend group I have ever had. I have the closest friend group I have ever had. We do not speak daily. Hell, sometimes weeks go by and I realize I haven’t heard from some of them. They fall all over the spectrum of gender identity and sexual orientation.

But I know if I called any one of them right now and needed help, they would be there. I never have to discuss their gender identity or orientation, we do it out of pleasure, not a necessity. We discuss real-world events and recipes with equal importance. These are the friends I wanted all along.

Most importantly, I never have to conform to feel accepted in this group. I am able to have short hair and wear makeup. I am able to wear masculine clothing and cry when I am welled up with emotion. I am able to be me, in all its facets. And none of those stereotypes I tried to fulfill before mattered. My being gay is the least important thing now, and I LOVE that.

So you may know me as that lesbian gal who loves to stick up for LGBTQ rights and speak out against LGBTQ opponents, yeah I am her. But when I tell you that my orientation and gender expression are so ingrained in my daily life that sometimes I forget, I am that girl too.

I’m LGBTQ, but you didn’t know this about me

I am not trying to be the gayest gay that has ever gayed. I am trying to be myself while fighting for the marginalized communities that are near and dear to my heart. The LGBTQ community is one of those, as is the BIPOC community and those in poverty. I love these communities equally. I am not a part of them personally, not all of them, but I will fight tooth and nail for equity in them.

So, while I am proud to be part of the LGBTQ community, you may have not known how much I hate it is what people find most interesting about me. Thank you to those you have dug dip, to find the most interesting me underneath the rainbow.