[Vol. 72] Honey, It's Not You
It's them.
Welcome back to That’s Gay 🌈 A biweekly newsletter for all the folks outgrowing "the way things are" – written by a queer kid who knows the feeling.
Candid, current, chaotic, and always tongue-in-cheek.
Live from New York, it’s every Tuesday and Friday 🌟 Subscribe and don’t miss a beat 💌
Hello and welcome back to That’s Gay :)
It’s Friday – as if you needed a reminder.
I solved my costume problem by the way, although technically I solved it via loophole.
Tonight I will be dressing in Dua Lipa style for a Dua Lipa-style Halloween event. Everyone is coming as Dua Lipa, easy choice. There will be glitter; there will be crop tops; there will be trendy jeans.
Can’t wait.
In the meantime, share this newsletter … because why not?
Here I am writing at a café – as if that’s also news to you.
This is when I’ve just gotta say it. I fucking love being a young and queer in New York City. And I feel endlessly luck that I get to be young and queer in New York City.
In past newsletters, we’ve talked a lot about how young queer kids (and adults alike) are hurting. And I’ll keep talking about it, because it’s true, they are. Parents are still tainting their love with condition, lawmakers are still weighing fear over facts, and we’re still loosing kids to homophobic and transphobic hate.
But none of that has to do with queerness itself. Queerness does not invite parental rejection, or discriminatory laws, or societal aggression.
Today, let’s remember that “being queer” is not a prerequisite to the shitty things queer people go through.
The only time I’ve ever wanted to change my identity longer than to have a fun Freaky Friday body switch moment was when I was closeted. And even then, I wasn’t closeted for my health, or to participate in some sort of weird ritual of queer culture. I was closeted because the world I was raised in made me feel like I had to be. Period.
Whenever I found myself closeted, what kept me in there was the fear of what might happen or what might change when I opened up. I don’t think I knew that at the time.
I mean, I knew it, but I misinterpreted it. I thought I was scared to come out because of my identity. I kept catching myself thinking, ‘Why me? Why can’t this just go away?’
I only realized later on, years after I’d been out, that my anger was misdirected. What should my being queer – my sexuality or my gender – have anything to do with what my life will look like after I’m out. How could who I’m attracted to or who I feel I am have anything to do with how people treat me, or what opportunities I get in life, or where I can and can’t go?
How could something so personal have any affect on anyone else – let alone our entire society – enough that it should change the trajectory of my everyday life?
It can’t. It doesn’t. It’s not you, it’s them; the people and groups of people that decide for you that your identity dictates how they can treat you.
It has nothing to do with you, or your queerness. I know that distinction might seem trivial to some, considering you’re hurt either way, but I promise you it’s not. Knowing there’s a problem is worth nothing if you don’t know where it’s coming from.
As Lady Gaga once said, “In the religion of the insecure, I must be myself, respect my youth.” I can’t believe I’m closing out the newsletter with a Gaga lyric, but this one hits different.
In a world that’ll do its best to blame who you are on its insecurities, respect your youth and be yourself – it’s the sweetest revenge you can possibly get.
Have a great weekend, my friends.
Find me on Instagram: @till_kaeslin
Check out the newsletter’s home on Instagram to see this post there, and more like it: @thatsgaynewsletter
See you in Volume 73, folks!
Don’t want to miss Volume 73? Not signed up yet?
Share this newsletter and help my baby grow!