The older I get, the more I’m finding that it’s best to just not worry about what other people think (in a positive way), though it hasn’t been an easy think for me to achieve, and I’m still working on it. it’s worth the sweat, because I feel far more comfortable in my own skin than I’d ever imagined possible, and much more relaxed, too.

Well, yeah… it goes both ways, too… not so much assumptions about “straight” but “straight and breeder”. It’s not necessarily look and mannerisms, it’s kinda a judgment of perceptions of overall circumstances.

I remember taking my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese– one of many “daddy-daughter” dates to allow my wife time to clean up without kids under foot (my son was still an infant at the time).

I remember seeing a couple with a baby girl– young toddler age. Two women. Yeah, one looked “butch” and one looked “femme”, but it was the overall scenario that seemed to suggest they were lesbian moms, if you will.

Apparently they were on their guard being out and about in a primarily “straight” scene– they kept their voices low and acted very nervous the whole time. I wanted so very much to say, “You have a beautiful daughter; I’m here with mine… and I don’t care about your situation, you’re here with your kid, and I want to relate.”

But there seemed to be a wall. It really seemed like there was a quick assumption I was straight. Well… as you obviously know by now… I’m not. But there was no way I could passively communicate that– to say, “well, I’m not like them, I’m safe to approach.”

Again, that’s why I don’t like dichotomies. There’s either an assumption that someone is gay, or someone is straight. I’ll tell you, those of us in the middle, we get our own grief.

Maybe you remember that Oprah episode where a man and a woman married, had a kid, and then realized they had a homosexual orientation– and then found same-sex relationships. It was funny to watch Oprah say out loud she’d never heard of anything like that before. Too funny, because I’d seen it before, and I am partly living that myself, even though my relationship is a heterosexual one. It was obvious that they all still operated as a family.

Now, obviously, there is no provision in my faith for homosexual relationships. I sincerely doubt that any will be made. BUT… family is so emphasized in my faith, and really, I would just like to be able to relate, even to families with such relationships. I’m not interested in religious objections– I would just like to share the joys of a family experience with anyone experiencing similar joys, without any fetters.

If they want to dress like an emo, I’m going to think ‘harden up and stop pitying yourself’. Not everyone who dresses ‘alternative’ is a victim or original – many of them are following a trend and (as Leroy Glinchy said) will look down on you if you’re not as ‘trendy’ as them. This is very relevant on the gay scene, particularly amongst lesbians. My sister is gay and is constantly thought of as being striaght just because she isn’t butch.

Maybe its because I couldn’t give a fuck if someone judged me based off my appearance, so I really don’t see why others feel get upset about it.

Ha, I guess this could link in with your Shared Experience post.

The funny thing is nobody has more radical politics than I do. My radicalism is in my mind and in my lifestyle, but not how I dress. I have a job because I have a lot of debts to pay from the days when I was not so bright. I like people of all kinds, but they seem to have a major problem with me.

The best part is that my wife thinks I look like a racist skinhead which is funny because I have married outside my race.

Thank you for reminding me to look into peoples’ eyes, rather than at them. There is a world of difference.

BA

Stephanie, Vanessa, wvhillcountry: Thanks!

Anita: Ooh, do I get a badge! I love badges!

Jaklumen: Poverty tends to bind people together, riches tend to cast them apart. (Heard that line somewhere, for the life of me can’t remember where…)

Tony: *lol* OMG. If you ever do that, have someone videotape it!

I grew up as an outcast during the post columbine years and had friends who wore the trenchcoats amidst the constant physical and social berations because of their choice. The fact was the trenchcoat became a risque fashion statement back in those days from films like the Matrix.

These days I can’t help but smile when I see emo’s. They look so sad and their whole appearance seems to amplify it to utter desolee. I just want to pinch their cheeks and give them a hug, mostly because I know they’d hate the gesture completely, but a part of me simply feels the urge to meet their theatrical sadness with an equally showy expression of joy and love. I can’t hate them, for I was a frustrated teen too once. Lucky for me I found a healthy outlet to express myself which allowed me to privately indulge my inner creative freak and sating that desire so that I could become a normal seeming member of society.