Someone called me a faggot today

Someone called me a faggot today

I was on my tricycle with my pink helmet. Wearing an especially cute outfit - fake patchwork overalls over a tiny cheetah print tank top.

A person on a motorcycle noticed me and revved their engine at me. I waved and smiled. As they drove away, they yelled, “FAGGOT.”

My honest reaction was “THANKS!” It felt good to be seen.

After my top surgery, I started to pass as ~man~ FAST. So fast it gave me whiplash. No hormones, no other changes. My intersex body was seen as female until the breasts took their leave.

I was immediately treated differently by men. I remember the first time I noticed this - I was in Indianapolis for my cousin’s memorial service. Four weeks post op, still wearing my ace bandage under my shirt. We stopped at a gas station so I could change into my ~nice clothes.~ A button down and some beige shorts. As I walked out of the gas station, a man said to me, “brother, do you have some change? Brother! My brother!!”

I remember beaming and running to my dad saying, “do you hear him?! He’s talking about me! I'm the brother!” Mind you, 4 weeks before I was getting “good afternoon ladies.”

It felt good to blend in, to just be a guy. To not have my body devoured by the eyes of too many passersby. I languished in this comfort.

I started to realize that “passing,” for me, as a non-binary intersex person, was a euphemism for still not being seen as myself. This realization pushed me to present weirder. Queerer. More me.

Flash back to today - the confirmation of my hard work paying off. That slur could have made me crumple. And past versions of myself would have.

Now me - sees the jealousy behind that slur. Because I, too, have been caged. Asking myself “who gave them the right?” Jealousy contorts into hate - into bitterness.

I learned that I am the only one who can set myself free, who can give myself the right. And crumpling and hiding will only affect me - and those who need to see me. It wont affect that person as they speed away on their motorcycle, proud that they seemingly knocked me down a peg.

I am reminded of Audre Lorde's words, “Nothing I accept about myself can be used to diminish me.”

I am a faggot. I stand tall and firm in my faggyness, and anyone who doesn't like it can kiss my ass. Your jealousy wont stop me, it fuels me. Because I truly believe you deserve to be free, too.