Am i a man? Absolutely not. Not even a little bit. i haven’t
identified in this way in a very long time. Even the last time that i
externally identified as a man, i internally identified as “trying to be a man
one final time.”
Do i have sex with men? Not cis men. Not in a long time anyway. i have. But i’m currently in a relationship with someone with a different gender than me, meaning i’m not even in a homo relationship in the classical sense of the word. My sense of self as faggot has absolutely nothing to do with either my gender or the gender of those i fuck (or desire to fuck).
What purpose then does this contradictory identification serve? Well, i’m often read as male. Because of my visible queerness, in these cases i am doubtless read as a queer male. My identification as a faggot is not, however, intended to legitimate this misreading in any way. It’s also not any sort of attempt to reclaim maleness, it’d be tough to reclaim maleness while actively identifying as not male.
My faggot identity used to be a reclamation. It was a way to embrace the fact that i had sex and lust and swish that were seen by much of straight culture as offensive and Other. This identity was often, though not always, accompanied by a visible queerness. Purple polka dot hair, glitter nails, an attitude and a purse.
Faggot, for me, was an embodiment of bodily resistance more than it ever was a sexual identity. That much is still true. My body, my life, is a locus of resistance. Merely by living in the world in a way that is comfortable to me, congruent with my sense of being, i am forced to resist.
i daily resist standards of normativity. Macro-culture tells me time and again that i should be a Man. That i should stand tall, work hard, wear loose fitting pants, and a whole mess of gendered bullshit that absolutely does not fit. Hyper-affirming cis women often affirm my femininity while simultaneously ignoring all other elements of my identity. Transphobic elements of cis gay culture cast me as a traitor, a person to weak or afraid to be gay. Although this doesn’t recognize the strength and honesty that it takes to be me, it is something i’ve heard and read more than a few times. Mainstream trans culture encourages me to transition "properly," to pass, and to “be just like everyone else.”
But i’m not like everyone else. i’m a faggot. i’m a lady and a faggot. My existence beckons me to be a site of resistance. i resist feminine beauty standards that i both can’t and don’t want to achieve. i resist these standards both on grounds of their broader legitimacy and on grounds of their general aesthetic. For example, i think that it is oppressive that our society tells its femmes to tan until they’re orange. i also find this de-natured norm unsettling on a very visceral level.
i’m a faggot and a lady and i resist ignorant affirmations that “i’m normal and just like everyone else.” i don’t want to fit into a binary category. i don’t want to be read as cisgender. i am, and want to be read as, something new and unique.
i’m a faggot and a lady and i don’t support family values. i don’t think that my people, queer people, should have to make our families fit the template of normative families. Our families should fit our needs, our desires, our visions for the future. Our families are our legacies, and our legacy need not be that of either patriarchy or imperialism. Our legacy is one of adaptability, of love borne of necessity and oppression. Our families should reflect this.
My faggot identity is my resistance to both the imposition of these norms by culture at large and a resistance to the assimilationist elements of the LGBT (and no, there’s no Q solidarity here at all) movement. i’m a faggot and i’m less worried about a marriage contract allowing me to visit my partner in the hospital than i am about transphobic doctors refusing provide them the services they need, or worse.
i’m a faggot and a lady and i’m an anything but a consenting target. i walk in the world the only way that i can at this point. i live my truth every day. This makes me a target. Fortunately, at this point, i have the strength to resist the (non)solution of conforming to gender standards as a way to avoid abuse. My sense of self as faggot allows me to walk in the margins and refuse to comply with rules that don’t apply.
i’m a faggot and a lady. i’ve been raped and attacked and mocked and i refuse to quit, refuse to hide, refuse to give up. Those identified as faggots have historically been resistant, simply by existing, oppressed yet alive. This identity offers me an alignment with that oppression and that endurance. My sense of self as faggot is much of how i do not become closed off from the world, distant. This aspect of my identity allows me to live and to love.
My queerness is rife with identifications that may, on the surface seem to conflict. And i admittedly use a lot of words to describe myself. These words often shift and change depending on the day or the situation. They all serve different purposes. But i’m a faggot and a lady, and i have learned how to embrace contradiction and to resist with heart and teeth.
