Orlando: Thoughts on Fear

I feel as though I should say something about Orlando.  It seems like the right thing to do as a writer, a lesbian, a person.  It is tempting to show you how angry I am, but I won’t.  There isn’t a point to showing aggression in the face of hatred, at least not for me.

What I do want to say is that this tragedy is not mine.  I don’t own the right to it just because I am an LGBTQ person.  Please don’t misunderstand me:  I care.  The sadness of what has happened affects me.  However, it is important to me to be respectful.  I cannot lay my life and experiences over these events and use it as a template to understand their lives.  We are all intersections of race, religion, socio-economics and so much more.  The people who fall into the labels of LGBTQ are individuals, not one flamboyant stereotype to add some rainbow to your heterosexual khaki.

I don’t go to very many clubs.  I like bars that are more pub-style.  I like beer gardens where I can sit in the sunshine and read a book.  For me, clubs are not a safe space because they feel too chaotic.  I don’t relate to that emotion, but I know many who would.  It is a personality thing, no doubt.

My safe spaces tend to be other people.  My safe space is often myself.

That said, I do not walk around this world in fear.  I refuse.  I will go where I please and do as I please.  Is it safe?  No.  But I will not be hemmed in by hatred.  I will not be contained.  This is my world too.  Deal with it.

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