Instead, engage with your community-go to the gay bar, read about queer history, or host a book brunch for you and the girlies. And sure, people love it, but eventually, they’ll wonder if you talk about them behind their backs too, and in the end, it won’t make you happy. We all go through a phase of feeling really pissed off with the world for making it harder for us-and so we wake up every day and heave on our suit of bitchy armor and slag off everyone around us and make it a bit. Don’t come out to who you don’t want.įinally, don’t be mean. Of course, try not to stay too repressed and then let those bottled-up feelings turn you into a psychopathic murderer, or perhaps worse, very very homophobic, but your sexuality and gender are all yours.
You don’t owe explaining yourself to anyone. Everyone-well, a lot of brands-will tell you you have to come out. You are a sex phoenix, and you’re rising from the ashes.Ī note on coming out. After all, why go through all of the boring drama of coming out and detailing exactly how you’re going to have sex to your own mother if you’re not going to actually be good at it? It’s time to transcend the dynamic of the jackrabbit and the wet flannel. You don’t have to be kinky-although you can also be as kinky as they come-but we are frankly superior in bed. But if there is one thing that unites every LGBTQ+ person I know, it’s that we are good at sex. It’s also time to get really good at sex. A healthy way to deal with this, though-which my therapist has strongly advised against-is to start calling those around you your “audience.” “Fans” also works, but the truth is that audience implies a much more generous, symbiotic, artistic relationship between you and this woman who is staring at you at the crosswalk. Sometimes you’ll like it, sometimes you’ll hate it. As part of the LGBTQ+ community, you will be forced into visibility. The people around you are no longer strangers, commuters, or fellow diners at Chinese Tuxedo. A note on how you’re likely to be viewed after doing so.