Penny Dreadfuls

Crossroads of a database animal

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It’s been a while since I updated this.  I figured I might as well keep my peeps in the loop.  I broke up with one of my partners and for now the only person I am dating is Nicole.  I moved out and got an apartment on my own.  I’ve been spending this month reorganizing, reassembling, reassessing, rediscovering; no clean break from anything but a loop tying back to that flight en la guagua aérea.   Susan Stryker, who has had my back in more ways than one, asked me to keep writing.  And I agree. I think it’s important for me to make my piece.  My peace.

In another section of the garden of forking paths, I would have been able to create with this lover a symphony called home. But that is not the path I find myself in.  The path that I am in is the one I forge myself; and like Julia de Burgos, yo misma fui mi ruta. Y mi ruta no es la ruta de aquell@s que me quieren blanca, que me quieren alba, que me quieren nácar.  A serape hangs in my living room covered in Oaxacan alebrijes.  It is similar to the figurines of saints mi abuela would keep in every nook and cranny of her home.  I look to their excess of color or just their excess in general, their sheer impossibility, the paradox of supporting more than one image should hold, for comfort.  These are also my excesses and while they might not be what everyone wants, what everyone likes, what everyone is comfortable with, they are the fabric of my existence.  I embrace it with open arms, as I embrace the things about me that I still need to work on.  I am a perpetual work in progress, and I am ok with this.  And I finally feel like I have a home that can reflect that, a room of my own.  And maybe that is why I keep those alebrijes where I can look at them every morning, so I can remember that I love and forgive myself, even if no one else will.  I know some of you have been going through some equally difficult times.  Some of you just came out as queer to your parents.  Some of you are expats.  Some of you are just finding out you are further in the middle of the gender spectrum than you thought you were.  To all of you: whatever you do, don’t forget how to love yourself.  Even if someone you love doesn’t love you back.  Even if your life is in constant threat by being written off as sacred life, as life not worth living or sustaining.  Love yourself above all things, with all your flaws and despite all odds.  Celebrate every inch of your skin and your personality, even those you’d like to change.  In these times when things matter increasingly more and people matter increasingly less, the biggest act of subversion might be to have some compassion for yourself.

Love yourselves, forgive yourselves, and be compassionate to yourselves above everything else.  Embrace the impossibility of who you are and like the alebrijes that decorate my spaces, hopefully you will remind someone of how to live past the bombardment  of micro and macro aggressions that try to convince you to feel bad for who you are.  Be an alebrije.  Be impossible.  And love every minute of it.

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I think this was good for me to read right now. Thanks for writing it.

I hope that you love yourself, too. I know things might be hard for you at the moment, but I know you're a strong person and I think you can get through it. Let me know if you ever want to talk about anything. <3

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