Monthly Archives: October 2010

Butt Rubbers, Mule Drivers, Beaver and a few overdue corrections

Last time I wrote my own It Gets Better.  I’ve been thinking about that, and would like to add a few thoughts and corrections.

#1: “I’m now 36…”  I was 19 at the time of the gay bashing I wrote about in this post.  It didn’t take 17 years to get better.  That’s not exactly the message we want to be sending, now is it?

#2: “…happily partnered for 11 years, raising a family, in my dream job, a respected member of my community.”  Is it just me, or do I sound like a fucking lesbo Leave to Beaver?  I imagine that settling down, getting hitched, having kids and acquiring community respect is not everyone’s idea of “getting better”.

#3:  Privilege.  It means it may be a lot easier for things to be “better” for me than for someone who’s dark-skinned, or poorer than me, or disabled, or any number of factors.  I just want to acknowledge that.

#4: I said “beaver”.

Something else on my mind: marriage.  For me it’s not about trying to gain mainstream acceptance.  I would just about die if someone I respected took away my weirdness trophy.  I want equal rights: nothing more, nothing less.

For the record: “happily partnered for 11 years” could be better described as “partnered in scattered chunks of happiness, resentment, hard work and exhaustion”; “raising a family” looks like having a daughter and  a stepson with an 18 year age difference, a gnarly old stray cat and two neurotic shelter dogs; “my dream job” involves rubbing people’s butts; and as far as being a respected member of my community, well, you should meet my community.  Buncha feel-good liberal Jesus freaks, a handful of fellow butt-rubbers and a toothless old homeless guy who used to drive mules.

It Gets Better.

In 1993, when I was 19, I was gay bashed by a group of boys on my high school campus. They were notoriously rough young men, and I was lucky to get out of it without injuries. At the time, I didn’t feel that I had anyone to tell. Shortly after that, I checked into a psyche ward. It was a hard, hard time.

I’m now 36, happily partnered for 11 years, raising a family, in my dream job, a respected member of my community. I’m happier than I could have ever imagined.

This is for any young transgendered, lesbian, bisexual or gay person who feels hopeless. You are not alone, and it DOES get better.