[Vol. 33] An Open Letter to the Straight/Cis
Get uncomfortable, for me and for you.
Although this newsletter is open to all (we don’t discriminate here at That’s Gay – AKA I don’t discriminate because That’s Gay is a single human and that human is me) it’s really meant for all my straight/cis friends in the back.
*Cis = cisgender - not transgender/nonbinary.
But because they’re all the way in the back there (hey guys!) me sending this out on its own isn’t going to be enough to reach em’.
So today I ask you, whoever you are, to share this newsletter. Share it with all your straight/cis friends, family, followers, loved ones, hated ones, ehh-I-like-them-just-ok ones, and all the non-queers in between.
Share to spread the message and to keep the newsletter growing.
I can’t do what I want to do with this newsletter without you guys. Sappy, yes, but also 100% literal. Like, I literally cannot grow this newsletter without your shares.
So please, take a few minutes out of the day to share, text a friend the link, bring it up in a conversation, like, comment, and get the straight/cis people you love to listen.
Thanks friends :) This one’s for the straight/cis.
Dear straight/cis people,
I’ve noticed that, for some of you, talking about gender identity and sexuality is … awkward – not because you’re secretly closeted (although that’s not not a possibility) but because you’re not.
You’re not closeted. You’re not gay or trans or queer in any way shape or form.
You are cis and straight and don’t have a letter to call your own in the LGBTQ+ acronym. To you, talking about queer issues is like when La La Land was called for best picture in 2017 – your name was called, but you just can’t shake the feeling that you’re not supposed to be there.
Ok, maybe this doesn’t apply to all of you straight/cis people out there, but I’ve noticed recently that when queer issues get thrown on the table, some of you tend to tune out and clam up.
You say things like:
I just don’t get [insert queer issue here]
I’m not good at talking about all this stuff
Yah I wouldn’t really know … *changes topic of conversation*
And look, I get your thinking here – you don’t really know what it’s like to be queer, so how could you actively participate in a conversation surrounding queerness?
You’re scared of making mistakes, of saying things you “shouldn’t” say, of misgendering, of offending, of messing up, of not getting it, of admitting you don’t know. Most of all, I think you’re scared to be uncomfortable. Who isn’t?
Here’s the thing though: Most conversations worth having are (at least a little bit) uncomfortable.
If you feel discomfort when you’re talking about something, it means you’re dealing with something you don’t know (yet); it means you’re learning. If you shut down these kind of worthwhile conversations that exist outside of your comfort zone – if you give into your insecurities, throw up your hands at the first sign of discomfort and say “I’m not good at talking about these things” – you’ll never get any better.
And the thing is, we need you to get better. Come to think of it, you need you to get better too.
Sometimes I fantasize about a world that’s entirely, 100% queer – a world in which everyone inherently understands that Kim Petras is an icon and nail polish clings just as easily to a man’s hands as to a woman’s.
But alas, that’s not realistic, and as much as I may fantasize about a more queer-friendly world like that at times, I’d miss my straight/cis buddies too much.
So, instead of plotting a worldwide queer coup, I propose an alternative: get better at being uncomfortable.
Today’s age is all about being uncomfortable, on purpose.
All-white households are discussing the BLM movement over the dinner table.
The rich and famous are contemplating what it was that really made them rich and famous in the first place.
Men are listening to women only to find out that “women’s issues” not only apply to them as well, but have the same root cause as “men’s issues” (*enter stage left toxic masculinity and the patriarchy*).
It’s time to afford queer issues the same discomfort.
Why? Because virtually every issue is also, in and of itself, a queer issue.
When we say Black Lives Matter, we also say Black Trans Lives Matter, to honor and draw attention to those that are possibly the most at-risk demographic in our country.
When we talk about the influence of privilege on wealth and status, we also acknowledge that not being a sexual or gender minority in today’s world still grants you a bridge where others find a moat.
When we talk about a woman’s right to feel safe on her walk home and a man’s right to not grow up emotionally stunted, we’re inherently including the right to safety and emotional freedom of trans men and women, nonbinary folks, and sexual minorities of all kinds as well.
To quote a character in HBO’s hit show, Euphoria, “queerness is infinite”.
So, even if you’re straight/cis – even if you feel you are, at heart, not even remotely queer – queer issues still apply to you. You still need to listen.
More than a few straight/cis men in my life have told me at one point that having me as a friend has allowed them to open up more about their emotions, express their femininity, and become accepting of other gender/sexual minorities.
I talk a lot, and I’m pretty argumentative, so it’s no wonder the straight/cis guys in my life sound-boarded a fair share of my gay ass’s perspective. But all the talking in the world is rendered useless if the other party isn’t listening. They didn’t just hear me, they listened to me.
Listening, even if you don’t agree or understand – that’s what makes the difference. In return, you might just pick up a new perspective that benefits you.
I don’t care if you’re 22 or 75, no, you’re not an old dog and, yes, you are still fully capable of learning new tricks –
new tricks that won’t just make your queer friends, family, and fellow human beings feel understood and supported, but, in ways you didn’t even know you needed, allow yourself that same understanding and support.
I’m not one of those queers that thinks all straight/cis people are only sitting on their “real” queer identities out of ignorance. You can be as straight/cis as I can be gay and genderqueer – it’s only logical to me.
But if I can grow up as a gay, genderqueer kid in a straight/cis world and live to tell the tale – a world where I was given a blue, baby boy label right out of the womb, expected to date girls and eventually marry a woman, live my life as happily straight/cis as did every character in most every TV show, movie, and book I ever consumed – then you, my straight/cis friends, family, and readers, can face the momentary discomfort of discussing queer issues and live to tell the tale as well.
Don’t say things like:
I just don’t get [insert queer issue here]
I’m not good at talking about all this stuff
Yah I wouldn’t really know … *changes topic of conversation*
Your excuses are no good here.
Listen, embarrass yourself, bruise your ego, mess up and try again. Admit you don’t know without shutting down. Choose the cat’s curiosity over the old dog’s ignorance and I promise you, it won’t kill you.
To all the straight/cis out there: we need you to get uncomfortable; we need you to listen. Chances are, so do you.
In reading this far, you’re already doing so. Thanks for that – seriously, thank you.
Here’s to more of that.
Love,
Till
And that was That’s Gay, Volume 33. See you in Volume 34, folks!
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