queerness

Queerness is valid, nothing to do with childrearing, being partnered, or survival of species.  I’m natural aside from babies. The world needs my ideas, art, pleasure, love, interconnection, and good example.

I remember long ago, hearing people talk about evolutionary reasons for gayness.  Felt simplistic.  Good LGBTQ aunts and uncles help raise others’ kids, I heard.  Sounded sweet, and I did want to be a good aunt, to my niblings.

But I have a lot of queer shame now.  Queer shame in the sense of opposite of queer pride.  The pride I believe in is not about buying anything, cheering for cops, or attempting a queer version of normal.  I won’t sanitize my free, slutty sexuality so straight people will approve.  Fuck that, and fuck them.  I won’t put a glitter rainbow on my life to obscure my differences.  No assimilation–no way.

I’m not a monosexual gay man or lesbian–I’m a brilliant, smiling, queer, sexy, fat, disabled lady who will switch any which way, any time, and love whoever, in any way.  I don’t need cis-ness, monogamy, or to be comprehensible to anyone, except the people I’m doing it with, I guess!  Being illegible is what I expect.  I love my confusing sexuality.  I smile upon it and live it every day.

Sometimes I don’t feel safe, being out about all aspects.  But as the years go by, I don’t worry as much; I risk being offensive.  It’s more enjoyable than hiding in fear.

birds

I’ve heard stupid shit about monogamy in birds, sad that so many people want their own sexual habits justified by cartoon versions of wild animals.  By cartoon I mean not even accurate to science.

The mating habits of penguins are the mating habits of penguins–not me.  Making silly parallels is not useful to me.  My queerness is not a problem to solve.  I’m unconditionally ok.

I will fuck and be fucked, love and be loved, shamelessly, queerly.  Birds are not that pertinent.