I didn’t blog the past couple of weeks because I’ve been going my second round of fighting pneumonia, and that’s made it a bit hard to think and function. I’m still not well, and it’s going to take a while before I am.
But I wanted to blog in response to what happened in the U.S. on November 5. For many, if not most, of those of us who are LGBTQIA+ (I’m nonbinary), who have a uterus, or who are not white, Christian Americans, the results of the election were not what we’d hoped. I’m not here to engage in political debate, and I’ll remove any comments in favor of the incoming President and the policies that have been proposed. (Yes, I can do that. This is my blog, not a public forum, and I am not a government entity. Your first amendment rights are not being violated if I remove your comment.) I’m not actually here to talk about politics directly at all.
I know people who are flat out terrified right now about what this will mean for them and/or people they love. I’m one of those people. My white, cisgender husband doesn’t get it; when I said my kids and I were upset about the election results, he said, “I don’t think there’s anything to be upset about.” Um, yeah… because you’re a white, cisgender man. You will not be affected by whatever comes next. But people you love–your wife, your stepchildren, your grandchildren–will be.
I don’t have solutions to offer. I’m definitely not going to resort to platitudes like “We’re all in this together” or “We got through it once, we’ll get through it again.” As nice as it would be to believe those platitudes, I don’t. I’m already aware of people (no one I know personally, but I’m bracing myself for that) who have ended their lives rather than waiting to have their lives destroyed.
Being queer is an act of defiance. Writing queer literature–which includes male/male romance–is an act of defiance. Those things, I will continue. I wish I knew how else to defy.
On Facebook the day after election day, I posted:
“For those who are struggling, terrified, and in pain as a result of the election, there are two things you can do: Curl up in a corner and cry, or start finding ways and allies to make things better in any small way possible.
It is entirely acceptable to do both.”
Right now, I’m doing both. And that is okay.