Perspective and Acceptance
Everyone who has a stripe on the rainbow knows about the importance of acceptance. We also know about what if feels like when we are not accepted. We may preach tolerance, and people may tolerate us, but we all know that deep down, we want acceptance. No "they're great, and could be a little more normal" tolerance, but honest "we like you just the way you are" acceptance.
We've all felt the strain of pretending to be someone we aren't. Whether it's putting on makeup to make ourselves seem more feminine or to try and make ourselves more attractive or cool, or telling ourselves that we're still straight because we like guys too, or even just editing what we say to make ourselves more likable. I'm guilty of that. It knots up in my shoulders, that strain, makes me hunch over and makes my bad posture worse.
Everyone who has a stripe on the rainbow has their share of coming-out stories. When we decide to cast off cowardice and try for that acceptance, and failing that, that tolerance. Sometimes they turn out okay- "If you're bisexual, it's okay. Make sure you make good decisions about who you date and practice safe sex." Thank you to the people who have accepted that part of me. Thank you to the people who have accepted alternate sexualities everywhere, and as straight is still a stripe on the rainbow, thank you statistical deviations for accepting straight people in return.
Sometimes the stories don't end well. My parents don't accept that their daughter decided to be a son. They have a lot of trouble wrapping their heads around the idea that you can be attracted to more than one gender. And so you either have to leave that behind, or deal with it. And sometimes dealing with it means not being who you are. It's tiring, and that stress becomes a part of you, so ingrained that you don't even know it's there.
I've never personally had a place where I was more accepted than the IRC freenode channel where I met with like-striped people over the internet until I decided to be social a few days back. I was accidentally outed by my new friend to her entire house, and I was terrified. She treated my statistical deviation so cavalierly, and it turns out that it's just because she was raised that there was no problem with it. The entire house accepted me.
No one has ever given me the gift of a place on earth where I am free to be completely myself, and I've only just managed to process all the feelings associated with the idea that there's a place- a physical place- where I can go, and people will accept me. My other friend's parents aren't that progressive. My own parents aren't that progressive.
Thank you for being my friend, you've given me the gift of acceptance. That means more to me and everyone else on the rainbow than we can accurately express in English words without the use of hyperbole or the risk of sounding trite and clichéd.
We've all felt the strain of pretending to be someone we aren't. Whether it's putting on makeup to make ourselves seem more feminine or to try and make ourselves more attractive or cool, or telling ourselves that we're still straight because we like guys too, or even just editing what we say to make ourselves more likable. I'm guilty of that. It knots up in my shoulders, that strain, makes me hunch over and makes my bad posture worse.
Everyone who has a stripe on the rainbow has their share of coming-out stories. When we decide to cast off cowardice and try for that acceptance, and failing that, that tolerance. Sometimes they turn out okay- "If you're bisexual, it's okay. Make sure you make good decisions about who you date and practice safe sex." Thank you to the people who have accepted that part of me. Thank you to the people who have accepted alternate sexualities everywhere, and as straight is still a stripe on the rainbow, thank you statistical deviations for accepting straight people in return.
Sometimes the stories don't end well. My parents don't accept that their daughter decided to be a son. They have a lot of trouble wrapping their heads around the idea that you can be attracted to more than one gender. And so you either have to leave that behind, or deal with it. And sometimes dealing with it means not being who you are. It's tiring, and that stress becomes a part of you, so ingrained that you don't even know it's there.
I've never personally had a place where I was more accepted than the IRC freenode channel where I met with like-striped people over the internet until I decided to be social a few days back. I was accidentally outed by my new friend to her entire house, and I was terrified. She treated my statistical deviation so cavalierly, and it turns out that it's just because she was raised that there was no problem with it. The entire house accepted me.
No one has ever given me the gift of a place on earth where I am free to be completely myself, and I've only just managed to process all the feelings associated with the idea that there's a place- a physical place- where I can go, and people will accept me. My other friend's parents aren't that progressive. My own parents aren't that progressive.
Thank you for being my friend, you've given me the gift of acceptance. That means more to me and everyone else on the rainbow than we can accurately express in English words without the use of hyperbole or the risk of sounding trite and clichéd.