At the lesbian meetup, met a kind of transphobic woman. Started gearing up to get fighty and then realised... she wasn't an actual terf. She was just older, genuinely didn't know stuff, had heard some terf talking points in passing and had been made kind of anxious by them, but hadn't made it her entire personality. She was open to learning that trans women weren't actually roaming around coercing unwilling cis lesbians into sex, thanked me earnestly for giving her a basic explanation of what "non-binary" meant and truly seemed to be relaxing bit by bit the more she heard. Obviously I'm aware that I can't be sure I've given her a sufficient dose of anti-transphobe vaccine to immunise her permanently against the shit that's out there, but overall it made me hopeful. Most people just aren't dyed-in-the-wool bigots. People can be curious and relieved to hear the fearmongering they've been exposed to is untrue. Telling people this stuff isn't a lost cause.
this pride month I am wishing everyone a very stop overanalyzing yourself and just have fun with it. have gay sex. don't have any sex. try on a new gender. stop caring about gender at all. talk to your doctor about hormones. go on a date. break up with the person you dont love. whatever it is you have been putting off doing by dithering about it in your head. just do that and fully experience how it feels without trying to put it into words. if you still need a word for it later there will be one. they aren't going anywhere. but people were here before language and there's only so far language can go in giving you a fulfilling human experience. so if you are hiding behind finding the right words for whatever it is your heart wants i hope this month you get the courage to just do it instead.
so the thing about my family is that we have two ancestors on my dad’s side who were buried in france, where I currently live. one died in the spanish civil war, and one died prior doing…we don’t know what. but he somehow managed to get buried in père lachaise.
so anyhow, my gran sends me a message like “pls put flowers on ur uncle samuel’s grave because he’s gone over a century with none and it will make the ghost mad if he hasn’t already” because my family spends time in europe but never long enough to go all the way to père lachaise and give ya boy samuel jr. his death rites. so im like “ok gran I can do that” bc im a good grandson and you do not fuck with gran she doesn’t DESERVE THAT
i figure out which plot he’s on and ask someone specifically where you can find uncle samuel jr. and they tell me where and so I arrive at the junction and.
HE GONE.
WHERE DID YOU GO UNCLE SAMUEL.
*celine dion’s smash hit “my heart will go on” playing in the distance*
in other words either someone stole my entire great great uncle samuel or he has risen again, ready to party in paris for all of eternity.