real gay sh*t
a reflection on Pride in my life
happy Pride month, my fellow gaybies. My queerness is special, important, sacred to me — but sometimes I forget that yall don’t know me like that . So let me let you in ~~
I’ve known I was queer since I was young. I remember having a crush on Jasmine from Aladdin, on Kiera Knightley in Bend It Like Beckham, on girls at school. But growing up in Texas in a strict Christian household where I already felt othered and ostracized, it never occurred to me to share my feelings with anyone. The message I heard over and over again was that that being gay was a sin and that sinners went to hell. I figured God hated me and I was destined for hell. Cool cool cool cool cool.
Luckily (??) for me, I liked boys, too, so I did what many young queers do: I pretended. I put on a mask and internalized my shame and let my self-hatred fester and rot. I was lonely and often depressed (Cancer Moon, hello) to the point of self-harm and suicidal ideation. It’s weird to look back on that time in my life now. Part of me recognizes the fact that I am simply a theater kid at heart and will always have a flare for the dramatic; the other part of me feels compassion for confused teenage Liz, who had such big feelings and no idea how to manage them. At the time, I didn’t feel I had anyone in my real life that I could talk to about what was going on. So in the heyday of xanga, tumblr, neopets… I looked for community and romance in chatrooms full a/s/l.
I was a fairly decent online sleuth, but my mom caught me trying to date women *so many times.* I created an online dating profile on eharmony when I was like 15, username LesbianLizzy, which she found. I would scour the w4w threads on craigslist and then delete my browser history, but sometimes she caught me mid-scroll. My mom and I have a good relationship now, but when I was growing up, she was panicked and afraid. We had zero boundaries in our house. She would read my text messages without me knowing and then confront me about things I said. She would barge into my bedroom, into the bathroom, into a private conversation without knocking in order to catch me doing something wrong. I had no privacy, which made having this secret identity so much more terrifying. It was a constant race of her digging and my hiding.
Deceit became an olympic sport. At some point, I realized my mom could tell I was lying because I would swallow right before I said something untrue. So I got skilled at holding that swallow. I realized that if I kept my inflection flat and refused to swallow, she would believe what I said. Even when I was caught red-handed, I denied and lied — and she refused to believe, anyways — so I carried my secret shame well into adulthood.
It wasn’t until I moved to Vietnam that I started exploring the bounds of my queerness. I finally felt I was far enough from home to safely be myself. Ooof, what a sentence. I finally felt I was far enough from home to safely be myself. It’s sad, phrased like that, but also true. Physical distance, emotional distance can be a protective shield in a tender time of transition. A change in environment can dramatically shift what we think is possible for ourselves. I’m so grateful for the fun loving queer community I found in Saigon. The drag shows, the makeovers, the dancing, the ACCEPTANCE healed yeeeeears of indoctrination. My then-boyfriend, now-husband has always been my ally. Love u, Matty.
After living Out for ~6 years, I posted something publicly on my IG during my first Pride back in the States. This was a pivotal day for me, as it’s also the first day I ever did breathwork !!! and felt my grandmas loving me from the other side. Owning my identity will always be closely intertwined with my spiritual growth. The more me I am, the more free I am. And that’s the foundation of my entire spiritual journey: becoming more and more freeeee.
My mom reached out to talk about the post, literally asking me what queer meant. I don’t remember how I described it exactly but we ended the conversation with her in somewhat denial and confusion again that I would choose to engage in this ~sinful lifestyle. I think she couldn’t get past the fact that I was married to man, but still identified as queer. *shrug*
We haven’t really talked about it since and I haven’t formally come out to anyone else in my immediate family, but I feel okay. The people who know, know. And I’m not hiding anymore. I’m sharing my art and running my business and living my life in a way that feels really luscious and beautiful, with friends and loves all across the identity spectrum. Life is actually, finally, really freaking good.
I started this Substack thinking I was going to write about how Pride falls in June because Gemini (curiosity, experimentation) x Cancer (feelings, love) is the coalescence of some real gay sh*t 😂. But this is what came out, instead. It doesn’t fit neatly into the box of entrepreneurship or astrology, but that’s okay. My queerness is all about shirking off the boxes and choosing to trust my heart instead. So that’s what I’m doin. Leading from the heart and trusting that I’m making an impact along the way.
I’m privileged in many ways — one being that I present as a straight white woman (even though I’m half Mexican and queer AF..). My trans and nonbinary babes aren’t afforded those same privileges. As trans rights are stripped all across America, I invite you to donate to this Go Fund Me for my *actual* friends as they move their family to New Zealand to continue gender affirming care for their child.
Love you. Thanks for reading.
I loved reading this and relate heavily. Happy pride month to you!!!
Felt you deeply in this. Love you!