pancakes

recently, I used smitten kitchen’s delightful buttermilk pancake recipe and threw in a few blueberries for good measure. i would’ve used the good Canadian maple syrup, but I can’t get the canister open. my grip has weakened over the past few years.

my coming out story is -

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i sat my dad down and he stared. blinked. spluttered, even? i don’t remember him saying any words. he looked away at me at the dormant fireplace, refusing to make eye contact with me. as if to say, do i havvve to? held his arms about him tight. I remember saying, ‘okay, that’s all,’ and he bolted as if i was a teacher releasing him from detention in May.

i had told my mom first. she asked a few questions, struggling to believe me. i told my sister? that’s murky. the overall impression i had was that they thought i was lying or putting on a temporary personality. and to be fair, i was big into lying at that point in time. more on that later. (ideally, a future post.)

i came out as bi, because i knew that much at the very least was true. fortunately, now I am secure in the self-knowledge that I am pansexual. That is what feels right and correct to me. I am a pancake.

to be clear, i am cisgender and in a long-term relationship with a member of the opposite sex, so i am afforded a level of anonymity that many other folks are not. and as such, a level of safety others are not.

so if memory serves, i told a few other folks on purpose or in passing since then and, with a few notable (loving and lovable) exceptions, it seemed to barely register to the recipients of this information, similar to my family. as though i was commenting on the weather or detailing the traffic route i took to IKEA. on the one hand that made sense to me because being out should be normal and by normal, i mean nbd. but then on the other hand, it felt like i didn’t matter. or i was not to be taken seriously. that my identity was of no consequence. my loved ones were not that interested in me or in hearing me. and who am i to be out here saying anything? who am i out here to be heard? so i piped down.

well.

now is no time to hide. not when state legislators and hate groups seek to erase queer and particularly trans people from existence. now is a time to be vulnerable and visible. and stay that way.

some reads

• Weekly Roundup of Anti-LGBTQ+ Legislation Advancing In States Across the Country | Human Rights Campaign
• 2023 anti-trans bills tracker | Trans Legislation Tracker
• Mapping Attacks on LGBTQ Rights in U.S. State Legislatures | American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU)
• Pride month arrives as wave of anti-LGBTQ bills make many states less equitable | USA Today
• Sweaty SCOTUS Season Is Here: 3 Cases We’re Watching | Rewire News Group
• How anti-LGBTQ sentiment is affecting Pride | Vox
• The Proud Boys Are Reportedly Planning to Escalate Their Presence During Pride | Them

some listens

visibility saves lives.

Pride feels tempered this year by the onslaught of rampant homophobia and transphobia, along with the continuing tradition of corporate rainbow-washing. however, it feels good to take a breath in this season and just say, hi. i’m queer. i’m here.

i’ve been afraid of community for a long time. always been appreciative of it from afar. glad it’s there; often feel like i’d do right by said community by keeping away. that may still be accurate. how do you participate in community when you also would prefer not to be perceived?

i dunno. that’s okay. i’m out here. i am learning how to be in right relationship. i am an instance. and if you are too, you are welcome, you are worthy, you are believed, you are beloved, you belong. you are majestically brave. i wish you didn’t have to be, but you are.

To whoever this reaches, thank you. To my queerfolx and kindred, thank you. I am honored to be in community and here with you. i’m happy to make you a stack of pancakes anytime. here’s to you, all year long every year forever.

Thank you for reading. With love always,
Kate