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There’s a reason why there’s a rainbow emoji on my Twitter bio and nothing else; why I’ve talked about it in panels and on interviews but it’s not on my website’s about page; why I write the stories I write and yet get exhausted thinking about who irl might read them and wonder.
There's a nebulous line between what I want to do/share, and what I think I can do while minimizing the hurt it causes to people I love more than anything. I make those tradeoffs because I have to, for myself/my work/the life I want--but the tradeoffs are fucking real.
You don't know the conversations people have had, the communities they've come from, the doubts and self-censorship they've struggled with or inspected to death. You don't get to say when they shift from 'I'll keep this to myself' to 'here you go, everyone!!' for "validity."
I know why it matters. I take that extremely seriously. In a very personal way, writing--this community--is where I found that courage to put a name to who I am, not once but twice. To allow myself that possibility; a kind of freedom. I desperately want to do that for others.
And it never goes away? This constant circling, questioning, even a recursive fear. It's easy to say "I don't owe you anything," and you don't--but if you can do good or make a difference, why wouldn't you, right? I carry that shit. I want it to be easier in the future, y'know?
As someone with a book coming out next year, I've thought about this a lot--maybe prematurely--but the things I want to say, discuss, talk about, in the context of a collection that spans a decade of writing--I am always weighing what I have the strength, courage, and love to do.
There are no conclusions to be had, but I really love this article, by the poet Yan Yi: "Whether it’s staying in or coming out, you’re looking to other people to make the frames of your choices, making them not really your choices at all." https://yanyi.substack.com/p/do-i-have-to-be-out-as-a-writer
"If you close your eyes, that’s the beginning of coming out. It’s not an event like crossing a border. It’s not determined by what we see in others’ mirrors, but the portraits we draw from memory; the words we learn to write for ourselves, that show who we are."
"Those reflections of who we’re supposed to be are what we predict when we’re afraid to make mistakes. There is no failure for a life that has no model. To shape your life after what you want and not someone else’s model of perfection—that’s a lifetime of coming out."
