although i’ve written poems about pulse before, i think it’s impossible to describe the trauma this shooting left on the queer community without explicitly including the words spoken by survivors and victims inside the nightclub (info in comments). i know this comes multiple days late — the five-year anniversary of pulse was almost a week ago. regardless of how long it’s been, however, the memory of this shooting lives fresh in the minds of queer people across the world. frankly, things haven’t changed at all. at a macro level, hate crimes rose after pulse, and anti-queer policies, such as discrimination against trans individuals in sports, workplaces, and more, have spiked. at a micro level, individuals find any way they can to justify heteronormativity and outright homophobia, such as when they eat at chick-fil-a (yes, if you eat at chick-fil-a you’re a bad person, i don’t care about your opinion on this) or make fun of individuals such as myself who use neo-pronouns. furthermore, queer people of color — specifically queer Black people — live in the nucleus of various intersecting vulnerabilities. instagram activism is super performative so i don’t really have much to add here. all i really want to say is that queer people will always be on the margins of society in some way. you think “discourse” about neopronouns and nounpronouns is exhausting? conservatives are still too stupid to understand the grammatical ramifications of they / them pronouns. conservatives will ALWAYS be two decades behind us. we will ALWAYS be a joke to them. they will ALWAYS move the goalposts to whatever reactionary, pseudo-scientific viewpoint they can latch onto next. fuck it all lol. live how you want to. embrace your marginalization. you’re in a community they will never have access to. queer culture is so, so gorgeous in a way heteronormativity will never capture. yeah, we’re weird, we’re not “normal,” we’re “cringe” or “faggy” or whatever. at least we’re not such special snowflakes that our dicks shrivel up when we see a woman wearing a suit or some shit.
gay men represent only 5% of the population but 42% of men with eating disorders. 32% of gay men have body dysmorphia disorder. 12.5% of all men with BDD are gay. i spent a long time thinking of a way to start this instagram caption but these statistics speak for themselves. as a gay man, i’ve struggled with body dysmorphia and disordered eating my entire life, largely fueled by the harsh competition and hegemonic masculinity woven in the fibers of my community. i’ve been told that i’m too fat, too thin, and everything in between. i’ve been insultingly called a “twink” more times than i can count. i’ve been praised and made fun of for my chubby cheeks and buck teeth. i can only imagine how it must be for gay men who fit in less conventional bodies. these photos — rapidly taken on my front phone camera with shitty lighting — are the biggest acts of rebellion i have. whether it’s my face without pursed lips or a weird angle obscuring my cheeks and chin, my body and abdomen and chest without golden hour lighting, me eating large, high-calorie meals at restaurants, or candid photos like the 10th where i realize my camera is still going despite shutting my phone off, i have taken control back. beauty is a stupid and arbitrary social construct. this is for me and only me. this is raw and real and unrelenting. this is not bravery; it is brutal honesty.
