We're here, and we're not like you!

Recently, I had an epiphany. I was invited to a dinner party, where the majority of the attendees were to be queer people. My circle of friends has always comprised mostly people who identify as heterosexual, so such occasions are rare and very welcome. But well into the night, I realized that this wasn’t a simple get-together among friends; it was actually an educative exercise. We had a job to do—to enlighten a homophobic person at the table by showing him that we’re just like him. And here I thought my appeal was my dazzling conversation!

Normativity is a notion that I reject. It assumes that there is some basic standard against which everything should be measured, like the white, heterosexual, middle class and higher, able-bodied, cisgender male. It also implies that if you can’t tick all of those boxes, you must prove your worth as a viable human being to those representing the norm. So, without any ill intent, our host had asked us to do just that—i.e. prove ourselves—in the hope that it would help the homophobe see the light. How very ironic.

The epiphany happened after this bizarre episode, when I realized that this isn’t something I wish to do. As much as I like to challenge others and be challenged by them, I have no desire to be a tool in someone’s project to change another person. Indeed, no one should have to be part of something like this. So many people expend so much energy trying to fit in, fighting the bullies, the bigots, and the clueless, it gets exhausting. 

So, no, I’m not like that homophobe. And that’s perfectly okay. I don’t want or need his acceptance. If he thinks I’m an abomination, and that precludes him from ever trying to understand anything about me beyond my gender and whatever he perceives about my sexual orientation, that’s not my problem.

There is a reason why the adjective fabulous is often associated with queerness—it’s because queer people are a beautiful, mixed bunch of people who’ve had a multitude of experiences, and in the process of dealing with whatever we’ve encountered, we’ve honed our skill set, which might include humour, intelligence, artistic and other creative talent(s), and any combination of these. We are worth knowing precisely because of who we are, not in spite of who we are. The same can be said of so many people in this world, who have had different experiences, come from different backgrounds, speak different languages, understand different things or look at the same things differently.

How dreary it must be to only ever interact with people whom you perceive to be like you in every way. That sounds like a punishment to me, not a “normal” way of life.