Leaving the Closet Door Open-ish

There are no hard and fast rules. Sometimes I do it straight out of the gate, sometimes I delay. Some of the people closest to me have had to wait years, others it’s never actually been said, but it’s known. Others, I’m sure, have no real idea at all.

            I operate on a strange sort of dichotomy: on the one hand, it’s something I will be completely open and candid about. On the other, I dance through half-truths and vagueries, dodging direct contact whenever possible. On the third (yes, three hands the magpie has, and many more, so watch your pockets and your secrets, dearies), I will attack viciously and thoroughly anyone who takes it out of my control.

            I read this thing about the repetitiveness of it, very humours. Mostly accurate. And that’s the thing: you have to do it over, and over, and over, and over, and many more times over. Forever. Maybe that’s where the dichotomy comes in. The wanting, sometimes, to just have a break. To not do it. To live in that moment where I am just like everyone else (as much as anyone is like anyone else, anyway).

            That and my abhorrence of labels – not just this one, but all of them. I shrink away with a hiss and a sneer (think Nosferatu as the sun comes up) any time one even threatens to attach itself to me.

            But labels are unavoidable. They’ll get slapped on you whether you like it or not, so you learn to cope.

            Recently, I had to do it again. This was one of those delaying times. I knew, inevitably, it would either have to be spoken or lied about, and lying is not an option. I sat back and watched and waited, and many, many times on a daily basis resolved to just get it over with only to shrink back at the last second. I told myself this was silly. I told myself there was nothing to worry about. I knew that, but knowing is different than feeling, and even when knowing you are completely sure, there is that niggle of doubt. That little voice that whispers what if that makes you hesitate. I wanted to protect this new, unexpected and precious thing that had fallen in front of me from the potential disaster of speaking the truth.

            And here you will say, well, if soandso doesn’t accept you for who you are, then what is there to protect? But those of you saying that will never have been in that position. You will never have had someone you trust, someone you love, someone you respect, someone you admire metamorphose into a crude and ugly creature wanting to tear you limb from limb for something about you that has always been there, they just didn’t know. Once you have that, you learn to fear even the ones you trust. You learn to be wary. And you learn the desperation of wanting(needing) acceptance at any cost.

            But that is the past, and this is the now. The now was not like that at all. The now was kind and practical, and Well, of course to my fumbly explanations. It was the first, the hardest, and the best of what I know will be a series of repeated exchanges, with all the new people gathering in my life. Most will not be so direct; I dislike labels, remember, and it is an incredibly difficult thing to work into casual conversation.

            But this one needed to be, deserved to be. So I put on my brave(ish) face, and walked back out with that unexpected and precious thing not only intact, but moreso than before.

(Oct 11 was National Coming Out Day [internationally recognised, mind you; words, people, words and meanings], which I did not know when I initially wrote it. Yay me for being inadvertently topical. I also almost didn't post this as it's two weeks in a row I've been unaccountably mushy. Just means next week I'm going to have to eat someone alive.)

Double-Consciousness and Identity

I've reached one of those phases of thought where there are too many things running parallel and not enough outlets to get them all out. I keep coming back, though, to a quote from W.E.B. Du Bois, though:

It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity.
 

I've been reading his work lately, one of those things I always thought I should read that, and then through the fortune of university reading lists, I actually did. There are a lot of great quotes in Du Bois writing, a lot of relevant quotes, but his perspective on living with a sense of double-consciousness, double-identity, of being The Other and Not-Other at the same time, resonated in particular with me. Much of my life has been spent on a fairly haphazard quest of finding a place to fit. I've found a few that come close, a few that I could make myself comfortable if need be, but in the end there is always that nagging sense of displacement and not-belonging that tumbles my life back into suitcases.

I am most wholly American when I am nowhere near America, most likely, I think, because my audience lacks a side-by-side comparison so by virtue of accent and birth, the lable sticks unquestioned. As an expat I get told frequently that my actions, ideas and perceptions are "very American"; in my own country, however, I am more often accused of being "un-American". In truth, inside or outside it, I always feel like an outsider. The longer I spend away, the more I want to go "home" (a very loose term that is only used to the extent of "that place I came from"). The longer I'm there, the more I realise the truth that everyone who has ever left home and gone back knows: the act of leaving irrevocably detaches you, changes you, and even if you return for good, you will still be one who has left and gone back, not one who has simply stayed. After spending nearly half my life wandering across the Atlantic, both and neither feel like home; the only time I have ever felt that sense of "going home" that's usually associated with childhood haunts and fond memories is stepping into an airport terminal. If there were a way to live poised somewhere over the Atlantic, that would probably be the place for me.

I'm an American, an expatriate, a Southerner (which could be said is almost a "national" identity in itself), and, according to a joke between a friend and I, even an alien (a joke inherited from my father, ironically, since it drove me crazy when he said it, but also a play on the no-longer-PC term). But do any of these things actually say anything about my identity as a human being? I remember, several years ago, driving to work and being stopped at a light behind a car that had a bumper sticker that read: "Be American! Stand up for America!" For the five minutes or so I sat behind this car, I pondered what that meant, and by the time I reached work, I still didn't have any conclusions. So I asked my boss, who is a fairly intelligent and knowledgeable man, though he didn't have any better ideas. To this day, I'm still not entirely sure what the writer of that bumper sticker really intended to convey. In my mind, all you have to do to be an American is be born there. The make-up of that country is so fluid and diverse, pinning it down to anything more specific inevitably results in huge chunks of the population falling well outside the pale.

At the same time, while acknowledging and accepting my national identity as an American, I also have to acknowledge that I am not American. I can't be. By virtue of some of the other labels ascribed to me, I am not equal to other Americans. I'm not entitled to the same legal protections or level of healthcare. I don't have the same assurance of safety from harassment and discrimination when it comes to civil rights, employment, or even walking on the street or into a shop. So how can I be an American if I am also told that I must complacently accept that I am inherently less?

This is by no means solely the arena of the queer community. It's not a matter of queer vs. not-queer because the L, G, B, T and Q can't seem to thoroughly unite themselves, and have their own forms of isolation and discrimination. Even those groups who have attained legal equality still find themselves shoved back by persistent social inequality, whether it's their race, religion, sex/gender, or something else entirely. It amazes me sometimes how thoroughly determined humanity is to fracture itself into so many divisive little groups, instigating hate and fear over some of the most ridiculous and inconsequential traits. It amazes me quite often how determined humanity is to hate, to be angry and spiteful, and to take great pride in that.

I suppose this peculiar sensation of double-consciousness is one of the things that makes me wary of - okay, stubbornly opposed to - attaching labels to myself. Why should I accept a label that will not accept me back, or will only accept me under certain conditions? More importantly, why should I endorse a viewpoint that will only perpetuate the reduction of my self to a single word, a broad generalisation that chafes and pinches in all the wrong places and dilutes the right ones to a bland homogeny? Why should anyone?

Open Letter to Julie Burchill

(In response to the article Transsexuals should cut it out)

I am a twenty-nine year old university student, writer and editor, and I am transgendered. There are a number of situations that fall under that category, but in my case it means that I am male, but happened to be born physically female. There was never a moment when it “occurred” to me that I was male; I always knew it. I was confused for a long time about why I wasn’t treated like the other boys as a child, and around sixteen there was the realisation that I wasn’t the only person to experience this, but that’s probably the closest I’ve come to any sort of “revelation”. For the past eleven years, I’ve undergone HRT, surgery, and jumped through every single hoop that’s been placed in front of me with an acceptance, strength and grace that most people never have to discover they possess. You, Ms Burchill, I’m sure have never had to discover the depths of those traits in yourself, because if you had, you would know how to present yourself better.

The language in your article is beyond inappropriate, and displays a level of ignorance, bigotry and unprofessionalism that anyone speaking in a public forum should be ashamed to exhibit.

The term “tranny” is not just “wrong”; it is a derogatory term at the same level as calling someone a “fag”, “nigger”, or any other slur meant to demean and degrade a particular group. The term “cis” is an abbreviation for “cisgendered”, which means a person’s self-perceived gender identity matches their sex. “Cis” itself comes from Latin and means “on the same side”.

Transwomen are not “imagined” women. They aren’t less than any other woman (or man), and the problems they face are certainly not any less trivial. The sheer amount of strength and bravery it takes a transwoman to walk out her door every day and live her life knowing full well that every day she does that may be the day someone ridicules her, assaults her, or even kills her is something that should be commended and respected. Could you be that brave? Every. Single. Day. For the rest of your life. Quite possibly without your family or a strong support network to stand behind you. Knowing that if something does happen, and you report it, there’s a good chance the authorities won’t even take you seriously. Could you do that?

I come from a working class background, raised by a single mother in an area of the United States where the career prospects were Wal-Mart, telemarketing or working at the sawmill. I have been discriminated against for being female, for being male, for being transgendered and my sexuality by men, women, gay, straight, employers, healthcare providers, police, bartenders – the list goes on. I had one family member ask me to pretend I had a twin sister so she wouldn’t have to explain what transgendered means to her children. I had two police officers laugh in my face the night my ex almost killed me because, while they could just barely hold a straight face for a domestic between two “fags” (and yes, they used that word), there was no way they could take a fag and a tranny seriously. I had one employer who tried to refuse to hire me on the basis that he perceived I was gay; I had the Human Resources manager at another employer refuse to recognise the name and gender of another transgendered employee, even though legally it’s required. The first person I spoke to about being transgendered called me a demon. One of my ex’s parents referred to me simply as “it” and “that thing”. I have lost friends because they couldn’t accept it. I have been belittled, discriminated against, rejected, harassed and abused solely because of something I was born with. I have had to fight tooth and nail every step of the way just so I can walk out my door every day and have a “normal” life. In the United States, insurance companies can – and do – deny me health coverage because I have a “pre-existing condition”; here in the UK, I’ve been on a waiting list for three years to treat a hormonal imbalance that should be simple to solve with access to an endocrinologist because gender clinics don’t have enough funding and GPs don’t have enough experience. I’ve experienced a lifetime of PMT and sexual harassment to boot, so look me in the eye and tell me I don’t know what it is to struggle.

I’ll tell you – all of that – I’m one of the lucky ones. I’ve had it easy, by comparison. I’m androgynous enough that most people have no idea that I’m transgendered. I haven’t been disowned by (most) of my family. I haven’t been raped. I haven’t been beaten beyond recognition. I haven’t been killed. I haven’t killed myself. I walk out my door every day knowing exactly the risks I face – that day might be the day the wrong person finally cops on, and anything could happen. But I do it, and I don’t ask for anything more than any other person in the world – to be treated with respect. I don’t resort to name-calling when confronted with people I don’t agree with, or people I just don’t understand. I treat other people the way I expect to be treated. Maybe you should try it.

Next time you want to speak about a group of people, educate yourself first, and then try to act like an adult. 

A Few Brief Lines

Originally posted on deviantART.


So everyone's talking about Spirit Day... I might as well do it, too.

I wrote something on it a few days ago. Not specifically Spirit Day, but the concept behind the month in general.

Here's the deal:

I think it's nothing but good that time and energy is devoted to making the masses aware of a problem. I really do. All the people who offer support and crawl out of the woodwork to wave their flags, absolutely fantastic. Pat yourselves on the back. But this isn't a one day thing. It's not a one month thing. This is an all the time thing.

Wearing a button or a colour or reposting memes to your Facebook page doesn't do anything but give you a warm, fuzzy feeling because you've performed some socially appropriate action.

I know, I know. I should be grateful that the social norm is deigning to recognise that I deserve to be treated like a real, live human being. I should be extolling the virtues of every one of you who shouts to the world: my best friend is gay and s/he is such a good person. I should get all choked up about all the people who wear the buttons and repost and squeeze onto the wagon. Otherwise I'm just bitter, right?

Well, no. And this is why I don't do those things: because - and, yes, I'm aware, this doesn't apply to all of you, but it applies to enough to merit being said - how many people will repost anti-bullying slogans or attend some rally and then turn around - and without even thinking about it - sneer at something for being "gay" (as in the apparently accepted definition synonymous with "stupid", "lame", etc.)? Or shun that girl at work because she's a little weird? Roll your eyes at the overweight guy in the restaurant?

There are a million little things that people do and say all the time without bothering to consider the impact it has on the people experiencing it (and this applies to a lot of different areas; not just this). There are a lot of ways to bully someone besides the obvious.

Which leads me to my next point.

There is a massive focus on the gay and lesbian portion of the community. Fair enough. A majority of my friends are part of that community. They don't have it particularly easy. That said. They're just the ones that show above the water (iceberg reference out of nowhere; I'm aware. Moving on...).

The queer community is vast and diverse, and encompasses a lot of things that each have their own unique issues and difficulties. I, for one, don't fit into any particular category. I prefer that; I shy away from labels whenever possible. I can take on various ones in certain situations, and I do, because I have to function in a world where I am anything but the norm and I get tired of explaining the intricacies of my identity and personal life to every random person that happens along. I don't fit into the binary gender system. My concept of sexuality is riddled with shades of grey. I'm involved in a relationship that defies all sorts of convention and description to the point that we'll both readily admit we have no idea what we're doing or how it's all going to play out.

From that standpoint, trying to find my footing within the queer community, let alone society as a whole, has been precarious at best. I've come up against a lot of hostility, a lot of ignorance, and a whole lot of pre-judgement. And some of the most hurtful, dehumanising and derogatory things that have been said to me have come right out of that same community. The straight people I've encountered (and this is just my experience; I'm aware that others have very different ones) tend to be a little too curious and occasionally thoughtless and uninformed, but generally not malicious. The queer community - particularly the gay/lesbian portion - has not been so nice.

This, I think, is even worse than whatever ridicule is thrown at me from the heterosexual vantage point. These people, after all, claim to be safe and understanding. They claim to include my interests with their own (and time and again the advocacy groups have flat out refused to argue for protection for the BTQ portion in order to secure something the GL segment wants). But these things get overlooked and unspoken for various reasons. The community needs to show solidarity, or whatever. A lot of times, though, the end result is the feeling that no one is actually on your side because you're not [adjective of your choice] enough, or maybe just because you're a little too [adjective of your choice].

The point that I have taken a very long time to get to is this: straight people are not the only ones who can be bullies. Gay people are not the only ones who get picked on. And this is not something that should only be thought about once a year.

Related
A Comment about LGBT Rights and Spirit Day by AzizrianDaoXrak
Spirit Day is Coming by NicSwaner
LGBT Spirit Day by GrimFace242

It Gets Better?

As per usual, I'm going to throw a series of loosely related topics at you with the expectation that you can keep up.

A few years ago, the It Gets Better Project was started as a way to inspire young LGBT people faced with bullying. I respect the intention. I do, but every time I've watched one of the videos I've had this sneaky little thought in the back of my mind: Liar.

As Anti-Bullying month rolls around yet again, I watch the various memes and images flying up on Facebook about ways to deal with bullying and yet again I find myself with a vague distrust of the propaganda. Yes, bullying has become and increasingly serious problem for a lot of teenagers, though I find the term 'bullying' too light for those situations. The thing I find lacking from all these messages of hope and inspiration is anything practical or useful. It's all well and good to say, now, children, we need to all place nice and respect each other.

Anyone who's ever been to high school - hell, anyone who's ever been a teenager - knows that's just not going to fly.

And this is the problem I have with It Gets Better.

It doesn't. It just gets different.

Yes, you graduate high school and move out into a wider pool. It's a little easier to find people like yourself, people who will be positive and supportive influences on you, and who accept you who you are. But those other people - the ones that want to tear you down because you're not masculine enough, not feminine enough, not traditional enough, not smart enough, too smart, too skinny, too fat, etc. - all of those people will still be there.

There is always going to be someone who wants to tear you down just because they can. Maybe they're afraid of you. Maybe they're afraid of what you represent. Maybe they're just downright nasty, mean-spirited people. Who knows. But they aren't going to go away just because you go to college or move out of your little town or any other change you might make.

I've lived in three different countries, and six different states, and every place I've been, those people have been there. Some places have been better than others. Savannah was refreshingly odd; Galway delightfully artsy. But even in those places, there were insults yelled out of windows, having to fight for a job I was more than qualified for because of my sexuality, being refused service at a bar for the same. One benign and silly night a friend and I were followed down the street from Supermac's by two very large and very drunk men who cornered us against a shop front until I spouted out the Our Father with perfect accuracy.

Thank God they burn that shit into your brain in Catechism.

I've been mocked by cops, banned from my partner's family functions, belittled, degraded, threatened, intimidated, just about the whole gamut and let me tell you - the stuff after high school was way scarier than anything they did to me during.

So instead of telling kids who are bullied that everything will magically resolve itself once they escape adolescence and just reinforcing how beautiful, amazing, wonderful, special, etc. they are, what we need to do is tell them the truth. We need to teach them how to handle it, when to ignore it and when to fight back. Soft and fluffy will only get you so far; if you're going to be different in this world and survive, you need to be strong. You need to be fearless. You need to be prepared for what's going to come at you.

Along the same vein, I've been prowling various LGBT forums for information and I have to say it's been one of the most disheartening experiences I've had lately. I'd forgotten why I started keeping my distance in the first place.

Because, sweetheart, and this is the really important part: straight people aren't the only ones you need to be wary of. You think there's this big, loving community waiting to welcome you with cookies and open arms? Try walking into a gay club as a bi, femmey transboy and you might as well just stamp PARIAH on your forehead.

The amount of ignorance and pure hatefulness coming from the L and G directed at the B and T (particularly the T) is astounding. It's one thing to just not understand the specifics (again, particularly with transgendered issues; it's complicated, confusing and varied. Unless you're somehow personally associated with those issues, you're going to be lost), but the number of posts in response to legitimate questions and concerns that ran from the benign I don't think it's right to the much more hurtful You shouldn't exist is something else entirely, and no less damaging than the drunk redneck screaming fag out the car window. In fact, potentially more damaging because these places are promoted as safe environments to ask questions, get advice and information and develop a sense of identity.

Then there were the more well-intentioned, but equally misguided, responses. One stuck out to me in particular, and if it hadn't been from three years ago, I would have added in my two cents. The poster was in a relationship with a transman, accepted and supported the transition, but felt guilty because she occasionally wished he had been born biologically male. That it would be easier. All the responses basically made it out like if she really loved him, she would be okay with it. 'Love will solve everything.'

Yeah. Right. But that's another topic. Probably for another time.

The fact is, what that girl needed to know, is that her boyfriend probably felt exactly the same way sometimes. It's normal. Being transgendered is hard work, and the truth is, it would be easier to be born the correct gender.

And that brings us back around to giving people seeking advice the soft and fluffy answer. It might make the person feel better temporarily. It might give them a little ego boost and a momentary sense of empowerment, but what good is it going to do when they find themselves back out in the real world with all it's unyielding hardness?

Not a damn thing.

If you want to help someone, give them facts. Give them truth. It's the only thing that lasts.

You can't stand on the sidelines forever, kid.

Fuck Chick-fil-a.
Fuck Oreo.
Fuck Christian gay straight liberal conservative male female whatever.

Look me in the eye and tell me I'm not a person.

Tell me I don't deserve respect.
Tell me I don't deserve love.
Tell me I'm not good enough.
Tell me my voice doesn't matter.

Do it.
And then fuck off.

Because what I choose to do with my life has nothing to do with you.

---

I am so... disgusted with humanity right now. I'm sick of the proliferation of blithely stated hatred - the celebration of that hatred, like oppressing another group of people is someone's idea of a good time. I'm sick of my friends and family being treated like what they're asking for - what we're asking for - is completely unreasonable. I'm sick of feeling like I want to go find a fabulously queer hole to crawl into and never leave because they're the only ones who can really be trusted. I'm sick of religion being used as a shield that's meant to conceal a multitude of sins - oh yes, that's right, all you Bible-wielders, because there is nothing even remotely Christian about the things coming out of your mouths these days - when religion shouldn't even be dragged into it.

I'm sick of everyone forgetting that beneath all the names, slander, propaganda are real people who actually aren't all that different when it comes right down to it.

Mostly, though, I'm really sick of being shown exactly how many people I have respect, love and admiration for evidently have none of those things for me.

---

"I try my best to ascribe to the 'live and let live' philosophy when it comes to the increasingly prickly arena of religion, politics, lifestyles, etc., but there are moments while watching people show their support for various opinions by happily clicking 'like' where I wonder if, that in the span of that mouse click, the friends, children, nieces, nephews, and cousins personally affected in their daily lives by that opinion cross their minds, or that by supporting that opinion they are effectively saying those friends, children, nieces, nephews and cousins aren't entitled to certain rights - in fact, deserve to be treated as less than. It's not about abstract concepts or philosophies. It's about a real, living, breathing, thinking, feeling human being that you go on vacations with, celebrate with, grieve with, love and are loved by. Maybe more people should think about that rather than competing for who gets to be the most right." 


"Those same ignorant bigots can stand up and say anything they want about my life... but they do not have a right to make me change the way I live my life to suit them. If the worse thing someone can say about me is that I LOVE someone... well then... I'm doing alright. [...] It comes down to most people never having had to worry about hiding who they are from others. Never having to worry about whether or not they or their significant other will be allowed in a hospital room should something happen to them. Never having to worry about someone trying to deny you the right to see your children when they are hurt. Never having to worry about society suddenly deciding they have the right to rip your family apart. Never having to worry about simply being denied that you exist, that you even have the right to exist. It's a good thing that many people don't know what it's like to worry about being killed, beaten, or raped simply because you were seen holding hands with your loved one. But it's deplorable that ANYONE has to feel this way. These things do happen, they are real, and they are a disgusting part of humanity. It needs to be eradicated which can only happen if people are taught to respect diversity. "The gays" are not out hunting down bigots and vandalizing their homes, screaming hate speech at their children, trying to take their children away from them, killing them or raping them for being who they are. There's nothing about this that I can smile and do nothing about. If anything people need to speak up more. Get louder. Because this is not something I want my kids to grow up and have as part of their world."


"In the case of (god I'm so sick of that fucking company now), they are specifically attacking the LGTB community, and I see everyone wondering, do they have the right? They should have the right to hate us, and voice that opinion all they want to, but no one, I mean no one, should try and mandate who I sleep with, fuck, kiss, and fall in love with, I mean no one. And that's what that company was using their money for, to actually fund organisations that take away our rights. So in the case of LGBT community, are you telling me that us homos, lesbos, bisexuals, and transpeople don't have the right to stand up and protest this? Well, that's is just stupid. Any rights, civil liberties, and laws that give us rights should always be defended and fought for."


"Do you think that "we", as a society, will ever learn that disallowing all people the same rights, regardless of skin color, sexual orientation, gender, what-have-you, will eventually lead to an uprising by those being repressed/oppressed? I mean, is it cliche to say that this is the same thing women went through, that blacks went through? I'm not saying that it's not good to fight. It does make you stronger; it does make you more appreciative of the victories you earn (even though within a generation or two, all of the battles, frustrations, hurt, etc. are completely forgotten by those who enjoy the fruits of your pain and endurance). BUT... If you ask the same people who fight so hard to (for instance) "uphold the traditional definition of marriage" if they believe that black people should still be enslaved, they would be shocked that you could even suggest such a thing. Well, why not?"


"Stop being afraid of things you do not know personally. Stop being afraid of 'them', whomever 'they' are. They are you. Human with a need for love and support and family, whatever that means to each individual. I'm tired of humanity continuing to act like an amoeba scared to death of its own shadow because its 'different' or they don't understand it. Evolve. Think for yourself. Understand what base instincts are and think beyond them. It's really that simple."


"I mean, no one chooses to be gay, straight, bi, or trans. I can't imagine any one of us just woke up one day and said, "oh, I think my life would be easier if I just changed my gender," or "I think my world would be greatly enhanced if I were gay". No!! We already went through that argument back in the 80's and 90's. No, it's not a choice, and it makes your life more difficult, especially because rights are taken away. [...] Our forefathers wanted us to have the freedom to express ourselves individually, and then these fundamentalists are all like "well, you can, just don't do it so loudly", and then they turn around and they are ten times as loud as anyone else. Well, I'm sorry I'm going to scream back "fuck you" with a giant middle finger because I can and I will defend myself and my civil liberties and rights. Right now there are still transgenders being murdered and gays that are being denied any access to healthcare, [...] and believe me there many more things I could list. [...] There are even rural parts of the U.S. where you can kill someone for being gay and probably get away with it. Usually, as well, when you start saying things that people find hard to hear, they chalk it up to [your] anger and not to their own fear."


"You spend your whole life getting kicked in the face and taking it with a smile. Sometimes it's just one kick too many, and you get really fucking tired of turning the other cheek, especially when it doesn't matter how tolerant you are. You're always going to be the one who can't talk about certain things because it's "upsetting", or can't go to a family function with your partner, or have to bite your tongue when a relative cracks a joke about hunting season on liberals because you might hurt his feelings, or another relative cuts you out of her life completely just because you point out that religion and government are supposed to stay separate, or the police won't protect you because you're just the butt of their joke, or you don't get hired for a job you're more than qualified for because who you date makes the employer uncomfortable, or you end up pretending to be this watered-down, superficial copy of yourself because other people apparently find it too much of a strain to do what you do every damn day for a few hours every couple of months and be as tolerant of you as you are of them. So... Yeah. Sometimes, you stop and look at the real double-standard and think: why the hell do I bother? They don't."