Sometimes you have a choose a side, sometimes you have to fight even if you hate fighting

I’ve always been a fighter. I didn’t have a choice. But this isn’t about me.

This is about those who stay out of it, who don’t fight. Long I have admired this tendency among some people to avoid confrontation or fighting, because life is short, friends are precious, fighting is bitter and ugly, we need more joy and beauty.

That said, it is from a position of privilage you did not fight. You had a choice.

Some of us do not have a choice.

If I had a black face you’d agree, you’d be nodding right now.

But you don’t think other causes are as worthy as BLM which you will post about and defend. And they are, they are as worthy, they are as important and that doesn’t diminish BLM.

I’d like to stay in a place of tranquility too but I have never been able to. Maybe you think it’s a choice of mine to be gay but it isn’t, it’s something I knew quite young in life and wished I didn’t have but I did and so I made the best of it.

Is it harder being black and having racism? I think it’s the same. Any form of prejudice is BAD and HURTFUL and WRONG and by not seeing it as being as ‘bad’ you are saying without saying, that it’s not as important.

Since I live with the outcomes every day, I disagree. It’s every bit as important. Ask any black queer and they’ll agree. Being queer can hurt every bit as much as racism. It’s a different pain, but it’s just as real.

So forgive me if I talk about something that isn’t important to you because it doesn’t affect you. And whilst you are not black and being black doesn’t affect you personally, it’s universally talked about and BLM is in the news, so you protest it. Would you defend me as much if gay-rights were? I would hope so.

We choose what ‘matters’ and we pick our fights. I didn’t have a choice when I picked the fight to be treated decently despite being gay. Nor when I noticed how survivors were treated, nor women, nor Jews – and so the list goes on. But this is not about me.

This is about how people have grown tired of certain ’causes’ and the ’cause-du-jour’ influences what they say and how much they do, far more than the value of the cause. Realistically all causes are equal. But we don’t treat them as such. We pick and choose because it’s exhausting. But we also go with the flow, so if BLM is the ’cause-du-jour’ as valuable as it is, in real life, we also respond to the majority and that’s less authentic than we realize.

People don’t talk about Jews anymore, nor do they defend them despite crime and violence against Jews being worse than it has been in 40 years. That’s because it’s unfashionable, there are less Jews, their voice is quieter, they had their allotted time, we’re bored of hearing about it, we’ve moved on. And before you doubt me, think about it, really think about it.

Same with gay-rights. Didn’t gays get the right to marry? Then quit complaining! Black people are still being racially attacked, let’s focus on that, let’s forget the gays. The only reason you are harping on about it is because you are gay, but what about the blacks?

What about all of it? And when is all the hate and all the discrimination too much so we put our head in the sand and we try to deal with just us, because it’s all too much.

The other day I found out in three separate unrelated incidents, that my being gay was an ‘issue’ enough to cause prejudice and unkind words about me. I was used to it but you never get used to it. I realized that I had stopped fighting because I was tired of fighting but we don’t have that option. We never have that option. Not as long as women are raped, children are molested, men are gang-banged, girls are circumsized, Jews are made unwelcome, black men are shot, black women are not taken seriously when they are exploited, Hispanics are treated like second-class citizens and so the list goes on.

I can see how it’s much easier and nicer to just opt out.

I can’t opt out.

So I opt in. Because defending others is what I have always done and will always do. I wasn’t defended as a child, so now as an adult I CHOOSE to defend those who cannot defend themselves. It’s maybe what I most like about myself.

I realize friends can’t always pick a side. Maybe we never should. But sometimes we really have to. If someone for example, supported Hitler and the extermination of 6 million Jews, would that be reason enough to unfriend them, to support the others? What is enough? What counts? What doesn’t?

I don’t babysit because at the back of my mind I worry the parents will think I will abuse their children. It is ridiculous but since it’s been said about lesbians, I have that reflex. Those things poison you. They poison your freedom. Just as black people have historically apologized for things they did not have to be sorry for, and felt the need to blame themselves for their oppression, when it was not their doing.

I’m gay. I was born gay. I dated a couple of men it did nothing for me, it was before I ever met a gay-woman, and since then I haven’t looked back. If I were not able to be gay I’d probably be a serial killer or a monk – because there’s nothing else for me. I can’t be bi, I can’t be straight, I’m queer. It has impacted my life negatively and positively. The negatives are that my own family of origin wasn’t happy about it, and it may have been one of several reasons they didn’t approve of me. I lost friends. I lost jobs. I was accused of flirting with a woman just by talking with her. I’m seen as a pervert, unnatural, etc, etc.

On a positive side, I have been lucky enough to work with AMAZING women who are not only pro-LBGTQ but pro-woman and pro-equality of all peoples. Not paying lip-service to, but really BEING.

So excuse me if I think it’s a bit lame you are on the fence. I don’t think if someone were racist you’d be on that fence. I think it’s because it’s my queer fence and it doesn’t mean that much to you. Let’s call it what it is. And if that’s ‘drama’ then truth is drama. And I don’t think truth is drama. I think truth is truth and it’s a fucking rare thing these days.

When I began SMITTEN I was so proud. But I got a lot of flack too. When I had my page I was beseiged by men writing ‘you’re too pretty to fuck girls what’s wrong with you?’ – I don’t recall people really being outraged by that but if I were black and I were called the N-Word I’d be defended. I think it should cut both ways, in all matters of prejudice otherwise we’re saying – this doesn’t matter AS much.

If you are bored of me talking about being gay, I can only say, try being gay yourself and see how long you last before you want to speak out about how hard it can be. One time I was in the closet and everyone assumed since I am very feminine that I was straight, I saw the other side of it, and it was ugly as hell !! People disparaging queers so much I was sickened. THAT is reality. If you think that reality is okay, check yourself.

I’m so grateful that the majority of my jobs are with people who support who I am but I am dismayed when someone doesn’t really care enough. I think there is a right and a wrong. It is wrong to hate someone for being gay just as much as it is wrong for someone to hate someone for being black. Why is this still under debate?

I’m beyond apologizing for who I am. The other day I posted two queer-themed things on my FB page, one about a transsexual Indian woman who was talking to Obama about what it was like for her to live in India where it was illegal at the time to be who she was, and one about ‘corrective rape’ in India. I hardly received any responses but if I posted something about BLM I would have. I find it sad that there should be any difference. Okay we can argue, BLM is in the news now, but what about when gay-rights were, I don’t see people giving as much of a damn and the paranoid part of me says it’s because they’re not quite as ‘tolerant’ as they think they are, and they wish I’d just shut up. Sad that you would not think that about causes that ‘matter’ to you but you do with mine.

Nothing anyone can do to me now will hurt anywhere near as much as other things have, I literally have been torn apart and put back together, so I’m fearless when it comes to being judged. Go ahead, if it makes you feel better, I’ll still be here. And I will still speak to gay-rights and the quiet disapproval we feel every single day JUST like racism and its disgusting quiet poison. No I’m not trying to join in to get pity and get on the bandwagon of BLM for attention, I’m simply speaking my truth. I don’t need attention or pity, but I will fight for mercy and goodness, every single day.

Well I’m not going to. And I ask anyone who truly feels a little funny about gays to unfriend me, because that’s who I am, unapologetically and I don’t want or need people who have any kind of issue with it, in my life. Yes I actually CAN live with the fall out, I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. Do you know why? Because I am a SURVIVOR in so many ways, and moreover, I have gone through worst shit than even those who think they know me, can possibly imagine. So whilst I empathize with your need to live a quiet life, and not have drama, there are times we really, really, really need to pick a side.

Not quite natural enough


I would like to be

a bit more toward normal, ordinary, unnoticed

because when we hold hands

people stare

bubbles appear above their heads

they say without moving their mouths

she’s a lesbian?

what a shame.

a terrible loss

I bet her father sexually abused her

surely some man really mistreated her

don’t you remember how strange she was as a kid?

Do you think she watched me closely when we went swimming as teenagers? Gross!

I always thought she looked at me in a weird way. didn’t you?

I feel uncomfortable around her, (she’s not like us).

And so I do not

book double rooms in some hotels

for the stares of receptionists cleave my good intention into bitter twine

I do not cup your hand in mine on every street

sometimes I let go, when I see a certain type of glance

I see their flickering of disgust

read like braille, the unsaid words


Filthy minded!

Disgusting waste of a female!

Around their pursed ashen mouths

as they talk about their dishonest children

as they talk about their cheating boyfriend’s and husband’s

the new grandchild, the latest form of contraception you

don’t even have to take it every day.

Even Plath and Sexton might have

raised an eyebrow and shuddered it was

so deeply entrenched to be judging even among

fine minds. When I read about you Radcliffe

I clutched the paper so tightly I thought I tore

your very sentiments out of print into my

aching lonesome chest.

I wear my hair long as a justifying act

I don’t use communal changing rooms

in case you think I’m looking at you, or worse, why

aren’t you looking? Why didn’t you desire me? IS

a woman who loves another woman supposed to

be the poster child? I don’t want my photo published

next to your intolerance and dissatisfaction in

your moldy marital beds just leave me well alone

I’m doing my thing, it’s not part of yours

don’t flatter yourself, just don’t flatter yourself

you’re not my type.

I know what you think, when I say I’m a feminist

you think; well those types usually are

I want to buy you flowers and bring them to your office

I want to propose a wedding no-one would attend

because people don’t think we’re the same as they are

we’re just girls who haven’t met the right guy

wounded, unnatural birds with confused identity

our parents lament us like Thalidomide babies born

without limbs, bespoken to no-one

if they could, they wouldn’t talk about us at all.

I couldn’t go to some countries, with you on my arms

they’d stone us for who we are

and I’d carry the stones in my mouth and walk into a lake

before I expressed my shame

my shame at being natural

for me

and not quite

natural enough for

everyone else.

Burning without fire — @ hijacked amygdala

Last night I scalded myself Mama and as the boiling water ran down my arm I saw you through the pain and you were smiling and everything was wrong how you are alive and yet gone, how you exist and yet don’t, how I was never right and somehow always mistaken If I don’t come […]

via Burning without fire — hijacked amygdala


Let’s take the blue boat out today

Cast off and dawdle
Our reflections close

Like spun butterscotch

Your hand in mine

Our blood coarsing

Slow horses coming home

Their backs, hot and steaming

In quieter times

You may once

Have watched me sleep

Dreamed my dreams

Slack-lipped in nimble grass

Had those whisked moments

We watch on little screen

Clutching the corner of pillows

Supple actors going through well-worn steps

We never took

Who the script? Whom sincere?

If we had known

We’d have made even the steel-hearted cry

In sentiment

For what is always lost


We discover

Real value and not

Cooling ash behind

The dazzle

Presque vu

MSDMAOF EC057A noise disturbed deep night

rinsing slumbering cloak of peace

in my wake I almost see

the outline of you beckoning

come out to the moon

you sign

dancing in peals

incomplete and ethereal

with crooked smile

turning your feet across

the epiphany of carpet

checkered in fistfuls of

left over dream


what you think you see

is uncertain and irregular

touching magic between

there and here

as time can lisp

and places exist

that are not with day

fully real

This time will come again

yuri-shwedoff-wolf-pack-internetThe saw they used

had teeth like rabbits unaware

they were herbivores

her shell broke

like a blue egg

on turpentine floor

for the ants to summon

their legions and devour

she could smell her own fall

by the pinch of their envy

though why anyone should

be jealous she found absurd

as plates will chip

when placed on top of one another

we leave the best for last

scouring her hide with vinegar

all the holy and the ivy

thrown in pyre to await

her defeat

she tried to tell them

it’s not me you want

it’s yourselves

the competition is within

I am nothing

but a representation

the dreaming void

or lost moon

reflecting your own

do not bury me with nightshade

violet on my tongue

strangle my words

because you have none

this time will come again

as all circles are undone and reknotted

by fate and the scepter

in the wrists of those

cutting down

trees who only seek

that silence of being above

cacophony of rude arrows

felling our roots

though we strive


to master ourselves



May pole


A fever

came like a dream

stealing what was thought to be real

for a time inhabiting that uneasy place

between what we know and what we are unsure of

swapping masks

changing faces

like wolves chewing through

fabric of the known and the illusion

we usually pay heed to

until a strong wind

blows us from familiar

back to our cradles

we began here and will close once more

like a book of our life

were it known

could start and finish

with the same

set of words

returning like childhood

we chase our tails

around the may pole

catching dappled sunlight

on our shoulders