Yesterday I sat down in my friend’s kitchen to get my hair cut. There was only one instruction – make it short and make it as gay as possible. Looking at me, you could pretty much tell that I’m gay. But there are always people who assume I’m just an asexual fat woman. I have taken advantage of that doubt in the past, especially when dealing with religious people or job situations. But I feel the need to make it known now that I am, in no uncertain terms, a big, fat dyke.
The kidney thing has made me painfully aware of my own mortality, especially since my dialysis going well every time has proved to be a crap shoot. Because of this, I find that what little patience I had for ignorance and general douchiness is slipping away. I have grown tired of feeling trapped and shying away from confrontations because of my job, or my health or whatever.
Also, part of my new found bravery could be because of this documentary I watched at logotv.com. It showed the conversations that were being had by black, gay women while making a music video for Hanifah Walidah’s song, “Keep It Movin'”. You can see it below. It’s very inspiring.