I don’t see what is. My reaction is my stuff, sometimes projected.
I loved the article, “Dear Straight allies, please don’t come to Pride until you have understood these six things”. Especially when it said don’t come If your thought process is “gays are okay but I don’t get the whole trans thing…” This is our space, where we don’t have to pretend to be normal, where we will not risk assault for holding hands, where we can be ourselves and meet people like us. Slate then had an article on bachelorette parties behaving obnoxiously in gay space- going on the stage when a drag queen was performing, like disruptive tourists: changing the atmosphere, and making it about them.
However, I have had bad reactions in gay bars. Via Fossa, which had the best food on Canal St at the time and was a pleasant place for me to introduce my feminine side to my father, had gorgeous decor- lots of woodwork taken from deconsecrated churches- and atmosphere, and in there I remember a man screeching out, “Hello Girls!!!” at me and another trans woman. We were a shy lot. Lots of us just went to the Northern Concord of a Wednesday, got changed in the pub, and stayed in the upstairs bar. The more adventurous went out round the gay bars.
Anyway, I felt uncomfortable at the local LGBT gathering, one Thursday night a month. There’s a group of butch lesbians loving each others’ company, and a group of gay men at a different table, and in between there’s me, quiet and a bit embarrassed. When most people had gone home and there were a few gay men and me left, I enjoyed the conversation more. I felt nervous: sorry if this sounds a bit like an angsty teen’s diary, my goal for my fifties is to complete teenage.
I stopped going to trans and LGBT events when I transitioned. I will go back, but it is nervous exploration rather than jumping in enthusiastically to a place where I fit.
Slate, The lady invasion.
You need to understand.