I had wondered for a number of months how to start another essay. I wanted to write a series of essays about straightness and the things I have observed about straight culture: the adversarial view men and women have toward one another, the way that women capitulate to a system that harms them, the way that heterosexuality is a racial norm in the black community that is derived from shame, etc. I’d bring in examples from recent memory like that jackass who told his now-wife (in front of their daughters no less) that “there are only two ways to keep me happy: keep my belly full and my balls empty”. I’d talk about Love is Blind, and a recent tweet from pop culture critic Kimberly Nicole Foster that led to some rather deranged responses.
But I can’t.
Currently, there are almost 500 bills running amok through state legislatures across the country. Many words have been typed about these bills, their protests, and the harm they cause. Shit, I recently wrote about them and how these anti-LGBT bills impact the comics community and potentially publish as a whole that will be published next month. What else is there to write about these days? If it’s not the bills, then it’s rhetoric. If it’s not the rhetoric, then the fact that queer shows keep being canceled after one season.
There’s this guilt I feel about being so late to come out. That my “new” discoveries about being a lesbian are inconsequential. I mean, books about people like me are being banned, but I started a blog anyway? To some that’s ballsy, to others it’s tragic.
I still want to keep writing about my experiences, and what’s been happening in my life. I still want to write about pop culture (I’ve been very interested in doing comic reviews). But I just need to sit back and think for a second.
Thank you for your readership and I’ll have a new essay in May.