If Ridge ST Could Talk V: flashback


I remember breaking ties with the other gay boys in 7th grade, perminantly dissassociating myself from them. In my younger days I was afraid, scared, and bitter. Why had God forsaken me to be amongst the snap queens? Why had I been born a tad more effeminate than the other boys? Why?

It’s funny the way contrdictions work. I came out when I was in 7th grade to my mother and in the same year I made a clear and deliberate effort to distance myself from all of my other gay friends. They were “too gay” and I was passable, barring someone passing me when I was in the middle of obsessing over one of my crushes. I began to develop an intense distaste for effeminancy in men. I hated it and would repeatedly beat myself up for what I percieved to be behavior not fitting of true masqulinity. I began to always lower my voice in conversation, to walk rigidly so as not to switch (which is something I naturally do to this day, it’s called having hips), and I began to hang out with an array of people, all could be found at the bottom of the junior high social tottem. (I thought it would throw off the oppression a little if I was just one of the “wierd” kids) The funniest thing is/ was that I was never that effeminate in behavior. I was just led to believe such because the culture told me very clearly what a man, a Black man especially, was supposed to be and looking in the mirror I saw none of that.

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