UhVyn

Can I be part of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community? Do you feel like there’s hurdles to be worthy of identifying differently, a profound respect that feels like you’re invalidating the suffrage of others by sharing their identity, and even a sense of guilty because of who you might be otherwise?

When I first started attending Pride events and LGBTQ+ spaces, I was struck by how open and welcoming they were. There was no gatekeeping, no tests to pass, no demand for me to prove anything – the only expectation was that I accept people as they are. It was that simple.

And yet, outside those spaces, I saw people struggling with that very simplicity. Many cis people look at the spectrum of gender and sexuality and get stuck, wondering if the “confusion” they feel is due to their own misunderstanding or because the LGBTQ+ community itself is too complex. But inside these communities, the conversation isn’t about if people exist – it’s about the nuances, the language, the evolution of identity. The discussion is moving forward while much of the world is still stuck debating whether people should even be allowed to exist.

That realization hit me hard. It reminded me of the historical dehumanization of marginalized groups – the arguments made against interracial relationships, against gay people, against women, against any group society deemed “unnatural.” And all of it, every single time, could have been resolved with a simple, “Oh, okay. That’s who you are.” That’s all it takes. That’s all it ever took.

Why I Found Home in a Community That Doesn’t Always See Me as One of Its Own

Maybe this was an easy leap for me because I already saw parts of myself in the LGBTQ+ community. Not just in the philosophy of radical acceptance, but in the ways I’ve struggled with belonging. There are parts of me – my sexuality, my attractions, my interests – that don’t fit neatly into the boxes expected of cis, straight men. The things you “aren’t supposed to talk about,” the things that make others uncomfortable.

Media has helped me understand that language. RuPaul’s Drag Race; Legendary; But I’m a Cheerleader; The Birdcage; To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything; Rocky Horror; Hedwig and the Angry Inch – these stories shaped me. They taught me about resilience, about celebration, about the strength in embracing what makes you different. Through them, I learned that the discomfort others feel about queerness isn’t a reason to be ashamed – it’s a reflection of their inability to love fully and freely.

And yet, for all the connection I feel to these spaces, I still find myself caught in a paradox:

The people I feel most connected to are often the most hesitant to embrace me. And the people who readily accept me are the ones I struggle to relate to.

What Am I Still Figuring Out?

This journey has made me question things about myself I never expected to. I know I’m polysexual – I experience attraction to multiple genders, but not necessarily all genders the way a pansexual person might. That understanding came from listening to people’s experiences, learning from them, and allowing myself to unlearn what I was taught about who I should be attracted to.

But the more I unravel, the more I question: Am I nonbinary? Or am I just carrying shame about my assigned gender? Do I feel disconnected from being a man because that’s who I am, or because of the way cis men are perceived and the way I’ve been treated by them? I don’t have those answers yet.

What I do know is that I don’t want to be silent about this. I want to share these thoughts, even if I feel like I’m still catching up, even if the audience is small. Because I know I’m not the only one in this space between worlds, trying to find where I belong.

Maybe the work of loving and accepting people should be hard. Maybe that’s what makes it valuable. But I still hope for a world where it gets easier, where loving ourselves and each other doesn’t feel like an uphill battle. Until then, I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep catching up.