The Filter

I usually don't get too personal for this blog. But, with time, I know I will. It's all part of that wonderful process of getting to know oneself and become more comfortable with the person I'm becoming, and while it's fantastic to finally feel as though I'm becoming the person I always knew I wanted to be, there's still bumps along the way. You could say I'm still transforming.

And part of that transformation is finding out what it means to be queer; not just with myself or with my girlfriend or my other very awesome gay pals, but with this still very hetero world we all live in.

Though tentimesfast says I can't say "I'm new" anymore, truth is, I still feel very new about this whole gay thing at times. I'm still frustrated/angered by unfair complications that queer people have to go through that straight people have absolutely no clue about. Case in point: The Filter.

The Filter is what I call what I do when talking to anyone who 1. Knows I'm out and 2. Knows I'm with someone and 3. Is straight. I'll get to how I speak to people who I'm not out to in a later post.

Thing is, I didn't really realize I used The Filter until yesterday. I was talking to an old friend from high school. She was my best friend in high school and we've recently reconnected. She was updating me on the ongoings with her life and then said, "Well, I feel like I'm doing all the talking, how are you? How's [The Wifey]?"

I froze. And gave such a vague/shitty answer: "Things are good...great!"
Friend From High School knows about TW and all that, so it surprised me when that's all I could muster to say. I felt ... filtered. See, I know I could go on and on about the beautiful details of my life these days. I'm ecstatic these days. I feel as though finally, 28 years in, I have figured out who I really am. I love the person I've become, I want to someday counsel little baby dykes (and baby gays) on how marvelous it really is to fully embrace being queer.

But, at that point yesterday I held back because I know that no matter how much of an ally they are, no matter how many "I'm straight but not narrow" T-shirts they own, they will never, ever understand my life. And, so I spare them the potentially uncomfortable details and instead ask how the boyfriend-if-you're-a-girl and girlfriend-if-you're-a-boy is.

Perhaps this is all just in my head. Perhaps I'm less of a queer person because I hold back because I want the people who hear about my life to fully understand it and to not just reply, "That's ... nice."

Apparently, I've still got a lot of growing to do.