Suicides and Coming Out - part I

It's been a tough couple of months for queer and trans youth and those perceived as queer and trans in the United States, right? Suicide after suicide caused by bullying and harassment has hit the headlines and it seems like the effects of homo-, bi-, and transphobia on our country's young people are finally starting to be noticed.

I'm far from the only one to point out that these suicides are not actually evidence of a new phenomenon, and that issues affecting people with non-normative genders and sexualities often don't received widespread media coverage until they affect white and/or socioeconomically privileged folks. And my friend Rebecca does a far better job than I could of critiquing the most visible response to recent events over at her blog (which I'm also going to go ahead and add to my blogroll). I do want to reiterate her point that perhaps the best way of supporting youth at risk is to listen to them. Listen to them and hear what they're going through, what they need, hear what they want, and respond accordingly. Because I'll tell you a great big secret: youth can, do, and are helping themselves. The best way for adults to help is to support youth-led efforts.

While I don't want to go on at length about this recent spate of suicides, I will acknowledge that it's saddened me: that LGBTQ youth are killing themselves, that they have been killing themselves for as long as I've been alive, and that it took this look for almost anyone outside our community to care or even notice. In the context of a rough couple weeks around issues of sexuality in my own life, I've been starkly reminded of how frequently and deeply challenging it is to be a queer person in a brutally anti-queer and -trans world.

Have you guessed by now that this might not be my most upbeat post?

It has, as I mentioned, been a tough time. If you're reading this you likely know that I struggle with depression, which has the unique ability to make me feel both lethargic and anxious at the same time. I spent a while in August and September sleeping half the day and worrying the rest, without actually accomplishing anything. And it was frustrating. But I'm sorry to say that what jolted me out of my funk was the unexpected and unwanted outing of my girlfriend to her family.

Although I was lucky enough to tell my family that I am queer on my terms (for the most part), I know that being outed is painful, scary, and unsettling, especially when you are not ready to come out, don't identify as queer, or are depending on your family for support. Unfortunately, my girlfriend was in all three situations. Even so, I would have hoped for her to get a better response than her mother asking about her "problem" (i.e. dating me, and whatever her mother implied about her sexuality from the newfound knowledge of our relationship) and whether it was "psychological or physiological."

And that, dear readers, is where I'll leave off for now, with promises of a part II as soon as possible. Sometimes when I'm gathering my thoughts on a difficult matter, I need to take a break to make sure I can get through it, and that's what I'm going to do right now. Goodnight.

Just Say No

I know, I know, two posts in one day...Don't get used to it! This one's just a quickie and, like the last one, I can't promise any great insight - just wanted to share something really great that happened two days ago.

So I'm in love with this really great girl, and she's really good to me, and I'm just getting used to that. Here's an example: The other day we were snuggled up in bed around 11, deciding what to do with the rest of our evening before going to bed. She suggested watching the end of a porn we'd enjoyed the night before (review forthcoming shortly) and I assented although I wasn't in a particularly sexy mood. Of course one thing led to the next and she started kissing me and before I knew it we were on the fast track to sex. I just wasn't feeling up to it after a long day and I summoned the courage to do something that should be mundane: I said no.

As a sexual health and pleasure activist and educator, I realize that I have the right to say no at any time, in any situation, without judgment or retaliation. But that intellectual understanding is not always borne out by my physical/sexual self, and I often have trouble saying no in gray situations (ones where I don't particularly mind having sex but don't particularly desire it, either, or where I'm not entirely comfortable but I can go with the flow anyway). This troubling behavior is partly influenced by a long, difficult relationship that dominated two years of my life and still deeply impacts my thought processes. How so? Well, my ex would routinely opine that anytime I didn't want to have sex, I was contributing to his low self-esteem, and that my diminished sex drive (which resulted from my exhausting caretaking role in our relationship) was a clinical issue that, when I wasn't able to medically solve, implied a moral failing on my part. Drastic, I know, but there you have the whole tangled story of our declining sex life.

In contrast, my current partner and primary lover responded casually but respectfully with an "okay, sure." In other words: she respected my discomfort and didn't pathologize or dramatize the situation. Sometimes, it's the absence of drama that makes a single moment so groundbreaking. This, I realized, is what a relationship should be like. This is what respect and communication mean. This is what I want - this is what I deserve.

In sum: Consent is an active process integral not only to casual encounters but also to ongoing relationships. Honest communication deserves validation. You should be able to take respect for granted.

Things I Get Excited About That Everybody Else Hates

Depending on where you work, NSFW. I should also take this opportunity to say that, over the next few weeks, I plan to post a few entries concerning my vagina (in the theoretical sense only! no need to worry), so if that makes you uncomfortable, watch out.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to something that fills most people I know with dread - a gynecological exam, complete with pap smear and testing for sexually transmitted infections (STIs, formerly called STDs). That's right, I actually like my annual check-up with the hoo-ha doctor.

I know that for a lot of folks, particularly trans and queer people, visiting a nurse or gynecologist and putting one's feet in the stirrups can feel pretty uncomfortable, even unsafe. Moreover, a lot of people don't have the kind of healthcare that allows them to get regular check-ups or even to see a doctor in case of pain or discomfort. I don't want to discount the fact that my excitement about getting my "lady parts" checked is totally enabled by the fact that I'm white, upper-middle class, in a city, cisgender, temporarily abled, femme/feminine, and privileged in a thousand other ways large and small. But excited I am, and I thought I'd take a second to write about why.

In my experience, scheduling and going to my annual gynecological exam is a chance to make good on my beliefs that people with vaginas and any of the associated organs, including many women, should know just how those vaginas work. I don't know about you, but after a lifetime of subtle and direct messages mystifying what goes on "down there," I want to know exactly how my body - all of it - works, what kind of shape I'm in, and what I need to know to keep myself physically and mentally healthy and happy.

I want to make informed decisions about cancer prevention, menstruation, birth control, and any other health and safety issues that are relevant to my vag. I want to learn about the risks and benefits of the HPV vaccine, I want to be able to tell my future partner(s) that I'm STI-free, and I want to know that my vagina's doing okay - and if it's not, I want to figure out how to take care of it!

I'll spend time researching any questions or concerns I have before I go see the nurse, because I want to be able to discuss my health with her, not just sit and listen. I'll insist that I get a comprehensive STI test because I want to take pride in my negative status. I will ask about the shot, the pill, the ring, IUDS...I want to be a resource for my friends and most of all for myself.

I'm not saying it's a transcendent experience, or one that's even particularly comfortable. But it does, in the end, feel empowering, in the kind of the-personal-is-political, Our-Bodies-Ourselves way. Getting a gynecological exam is one small, concrete way that I can educate myself and move towards making important decisions about my own body in the context of my gendered self.

Plus, it's always worth it just to see the look on the nurse's face when I come out to her...

P.S. Jezebel is obviously taking inspiration from me: http://jezebel.com/5474976/tales-of-my-vagina-or-why-womens-health-is-totally-fcking-unfair

Whoa!

So much for my goal of blogging regularly, huh? It's been two months, an embarrassingly long stretch. I apologize for the interruption: I guess the end of summer and the start of school was busier than I realized!

In the meanwhile, I did start a blogroll, comprising just three blogs so far. I'm happy to add yours so long as I know you. The first three are Quench zine, a group blog that I recently joined (and that, sadly, seems pretty inactive as of late), the wonderful Alyssa Rosenberg's oft-updated cultural criticism blog, and the also-fabulous Kameron Collins writing about whatever strikes his fancy.

I had the pleasure of attending Good Vibes' fourth annual Independent Erotic Film Festival at the Coolidge Corner Theater on Friday (mid)night. I expected more alt-porn and fewer art/comedic shorts, but it was a really fun collection. One definite highlight was Narcissister's Hot Lunch, a total mind-fuck piece of smut with amazing costumes and deliciously suggestive condiments. Yum. I also really enjoyed Julie Goldman's starring role in Tools 4 Fools, which also included a rare occurrence by a real live person of color! Yes, the films had casts about as white as it gets, and there were no transpeople (that I can remember, anyhow). But a fun night out and another reason to love Good Vibes.

More later! Sooner than later, actually - I promise.