A few days ago I was asked whether I planned to get married. In front of a whole class. I have two main reasons for not wanting to get married – one, my parents set the bar high and two, I’m perfectly (very?) likely to end up in a long term relationship with someone legally classified as the same sex as me, a relationship that could only result in a civil union rather than a marriage.
I only said the first one.
I dithered and ummed and erred – and then I left it. I didn’t say the second and more important one. And I can’t stop regretting it. I’ll tell total strangers my sexuality and lack of gender – but I won’t say it in the middle of a lesson in which I know everyone. But I was scared. These are mostly people who don’t know I don’t have a gender, who would see the idea of me in a relationship with someone of my assigned sex as a ‘gay’ relationship – and some of whom have not exactly made me, as a non-heterosexual, feel comfortable, shall we put it that way. But I could have said it, and they probably wouldn’t have thought any worse of me for it – and I know that for many homophobes and heterosexists, knowing someone who isn’t straight is often enough to alleviate their bigotry.
I’ve done mass coming-outs before. It’s not the number of people that intimidated me. Hell, I don’t know what intimidated me. I just know that I was, and that I’m now regretting it.
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In unrelated news, I just started signing up to something that would allow an old acquaintance and I to easily stay in touch and one of the required fields was ‘gender’ with only the two options. One, what the fuck about me and other non-binary folks? Two, why the hell does it need to know my fucking gender anyway? Needless to say, I soon stopped.