Ask A Queer Chick: Alone Together
Hello from my tiny, isolated quarantine bubble to yours! I’m holed up with my kids to wait out the pandemic, and we have already gotten very weird. I’m looking forward to rejoining society and realizing that all our dialects have evolved to become mutually unintelligible. In the meantime, though, it feels like a good time to answer some questions about isolation and struggling to connect. I just read Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing, and it feels like a survival guide for whatever comes next.
No matter what you’re dealing with in the midst of All This Fuckness, I hope you know that you’re not alone in being lonely. Please reach out, to me or someone else, if you need a friend. If you are LGBTQ and in crisis, you can call the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386, any hour of the day or night. Otherwise, take it slow, let yourself adjust to a new way of being, and what the hell, give your kids some extra screen time.
I am 23, and first thought I might be gay when I was 18, when I realized that I could not stop thinking ahout my (straight) best friend all. the. time. I spent the rest of university not dating anyone, and feeling like I couldn't be sure if I was gay because I had such minimal experience with guys. Also, everyone around me was very straight so there wasn't really any opportunity for drunken experimenting. I never talked about my internal dilemma with anyone, and felt that if I said anything it would be taken as fact when I wasn't sure. All my friends from university are so non judgmental and great, but also so straight! This year, I finally took the plunge, and I have found dating girls 1000 x more enjoyable than guys. You know when you're like, oh, this is what it's like to actually enjoy getting with someone?
Anyway, I still find it really difficult to talk to my university friends about my sexuality/dating life. When I have days of self doubt about my sexuality I don't talk to them, I just ride it out. They ask me questions like “how come you never came out at uni?” and “will you ever date guys again?” which I find super hard to answer. I think they find it weird and are a bit offended that I am so silent about it all, and I don't really know why I'm like that! Because I came out after uni, I don't have any close queer friends to talk to either (a different issue). I want to be better at talking to my friends about it because I love them and I know they want to support me, but I think I'm sort of worried that everything I say will be taken as gospel when I'm still figuring everything out.
It’s a high-pressure situation, being The Only Queer Person In The Room (or The Only Black Person In The Room, or The Only Poor Person In The Room, etc. etc. etc.) and having your every word treated like an official missive on behalf of The Cause. Part of the problem here is that your straight friends don’t know enough gay people, and the rest of the problem is that you don’t.
You’re not responsible for being your straight friends’ Gay Shit 101 professor. It’s always fine to change the subject when they ask you about something you don’t feel comfortable discussing in mixed company, or to say “I don’t want to talk about that.”
It’s also completely okay to not know. It can be hard, as we’ve discussed here before, to admit that your self-image is in flux or that you’re not sure what the future holds. In a homophobic society like all the ones I’m aware of, LGBTQ people may rightly feel that fluidity will be perceived as weakness and used to justify all kinds of harassment and attacks. But these aren’t Westboro Baptists trying to tear you down--they’re your friends. You feel confident in their love and support. You are probably safe in saying “I wish I could answer that for you, but I’m still figuring this out myself.”
Some of your stress is also a product of not having any other LGBTQ people to confide in. You say that’s a separate issue, but it’s all connected. You’ve never had the opportunity to pour your queer heart out to someone who gets it, so of course when your straight friends ask, the words get stuck in your throat. The queer world is big and chaotic and dreamy and frightening and gorgeous, and dating girls is only a little corner of it.
I know this advice couldn’t come at a worse time, but when you’re allowed to leave the house again, you should try to meet more queers. Follow up on whatever leads come your way. Sometimes straight people will offer to introduce you to their sister’s roommate’s coworker just because she’s also gay; take them up on it. Ask that person to introduce you to her friends, and so forth. LGBTQ people understand what it’s like to need a community, and they won’t be put off by you actively cultivating one. Meaningful queer friendships don’t always fall into your lap. It’s okay to put time and effort into looking for them, just the way you look for dates.
Finding gay friends and establishing your roots in that community will also nurture your self-knowledge and self-confidence. The more you learn, the better you’ll understand where you fit in, and the more words you’ll have to speak your truth.
In the fall, my partner and I broke up. That’s fine, it happens, but what I wanted to be a mutual and respectful separation turned into a nightmare. Not only did my ex call me horrible names in a public Facebook post, but after getting some distance I can see that they were also abusive during our time together. Our mutual friends only read their version of the events and did not consider my side. I felt pushed out of my favorite places and activities, and what was already a lonely time in my life basically resulted in me going into hiding and isolation.
Things have calmed down since then. I’ve been slowly telling my story to some trusted individuals in my life, but it still feels like I’m going through all of this alone. I’m trying to “get back on the horse” after this whole ordeal, but I’m finding it difficult. The queer community is already small in my area, and I feel like any new people I meet already have a false idea about who I am as a person. Dating has been stressful to say the least; lots of good leads, and texting, but most people either ghost or just don’t put in the effort to date seriously.
At this point, it feels like I should just move away from my hometown yet again to a place where no one knows me and start over. But I don’t want to do that, because my ex “wins.” I was starting my post-graduate career in another state, until my ex convinced me to move back home with them. Is there anything I can do about getting my sense of self back?
I’m so sorry this happened to you. This is one of the drawbacks to a deeply interconnected queer social circle, and you are not the first to fall afoul of it. One shitty ex can poison your whole support system, leaving you with few options besides starting fresh--at exactly the time when you have the fewest emotional resources available to do that.
I wish there was a way to undo the damage your ex has done to your trusted community. Sadly, the first party in a breakup to go loudly and publicly negative often walks away with most of the friends, regardless of who was actually in the wrong. Everyone loves a story with a clear good guy and bad guy, and very few people are open to revising their initial impressions of which one is which. I certainly encourage you to keep reaching out to people individually, sharing your story, and asking for support; however, it’s very likely that not all of them will be open to what you have to say. In the long term, you are better off without these fickle friends, but believe me, I know that’s cold comfort right now.
If you want to leave, you should leave. It sounds like you returned to your hometown for the sake of this relationship, rather than a deep desire to spend your life there, and it’s okay if you want to put it behind you now. Moving away doesn’t mean your ex “wins,” any more than they “win” if you stay put and keep battling it out against the misconceptions they’ve spread about you. A breakup is not a competition. You are not making countermoves against your ex; you are free of them, to stay or go as you please.
In the meantime, as hard as it is to be lonely and cut off, remember that so, so many of us are going through the same thing, and you may find allies in unexpected places. Use this time to retreat into the core of yourself, to find the parts that you discarded because they didn’t fit into your relationship and let them flourish again. Or use it to stretch, to find new friends and communities (online or from a 6-foot distance), or take on a challenge your ex would have dissuaded you from pursuing. Build yourself a cocoon and do weird shit inside it. Connect with the self you were before this relationship and the self you want to be someday.
It’s awful when the life you were building burns down, but ashes nourish the soil for whatever grows next. I have faith that what you grow next will thrive.