You are inspiring. As I read this, I wondered how you were telling my story. The difference is, you are brave and developed those parts into beautiful pieces of you. I have yet to do this. I might try now. Thank you for writing and sharing.
I'm obviously over a fully year late to this, but wow, does it resonate. Especially this:
"My compulsory heterosexuality wasn’t because I grew up in an overly conservative environment or was too afraid to be gay — I simply had zero bandwidth to navigate anything other than fatness, and my abject terror at the thought of being called something even worse than fat made me run as fast as I could from the very essence of who I was. Being called fat was painful enough — being called a fat dyke (which I sometimes was, by bullies who likely have no idea that in addition to being shitheads, they were also prophets) was too much to bear."
I didn't uncover my genderqueerness nor my dykeness until the past couple of years, when I had time to hide away from the world a bit more, working from home since the pandemic started. And I realized that, unlike so many people who have a lot of childhood "a-ha" moments, I never feel like I have many, because literally all of my childhood was painted by my being a fat kid and that being pushed as The One Thing I Needed to Focus On, always. Thank you for this.
You are inspiring. As I read this, I wondered how you were telling my story. The difference is, you are brave and developed those parts into beautiful pieces of you. I have yet to do this. I might try now. Thank you for writing and sharing.
I'm obviously over a fully year late to this, but wow, does it resonate. Especially this:
"My compulsory heterosexuality wasn’t because I grew up in an overly conservative environment or was too afraid to be gay — I simply had zero bandwidth to navigate anything other than fatness, and my abject terror at the thought of being called something even worse than fat made me run as fast as I could from the very essence of who I was. Being called fat was painful enough — being called a fat dyke (which I sometimes was, by bullies who likely have no idea that in addition to being shitheads, they were also prophets) was too much to bear."
I didn't uncover my genderqueerness nor my dykeness until the past couple of years, when I had time to hide away from the world a bit more, working from home since the pandemic started. And I realized that, unlike so many people who have a lot of childhood "a-ha" moments, I never feel like I have many, because literally all of my childhood was painted by my being a fat kid and that being pushed as The One Thing I Needed to Focus On, always. Thank you for this.
This is so lovely, thank you for sharing it.
Thank you for this and everything you write. Do we have the same life? No, but maybe. Happy Pride!
Amanda, you are such a gifted writer. When are we getting a book from you?!