Vulnerable Musing on Queerness 🌈

Brace yourself, because in this blog post, I go deep. To expose some of the reasons why I’m so passionate about the mission and vision behind Queer Soul Alchemy, I have to go back to my roots. Like, waaay back. Let’s just say, I’m about to share more than a little bit about my personal life experience.

It’s actually an edge for me to share about this, because it feels so vulnerable. But, I wanted my community to have some genuine insight into my background, apart from my academic training in the Yoga and wellness space. Okay - deep breath - here goes…

When I was about 12 years old, I remember a lot of confusing drama going down with my friend group. It involved the boy I liked in the 7th grade and the boy I liked in the 8th grade, who were best friends, as well as several of our female friends. At some point in the 7th grade, a lot of us would half-joke, half-admit to being "bisexual" and then immediately deny it. Somehow, a rumor about myself and one of my female friends being "bi together" began to leak from our friend group into the rest of the grade. To save herself, my female friend denied the story and told everyone that I was the bi one and that I had a crush on her. I also heard about the boy I liked in 7th grade, who at that time was dating a 9th-grader, losing his "girl virginity" to her, and his "boy virginity" to someone else.

Fast forward to our 8th grade, and this same boy was mad at me for something. I don't remember what; I only remember how I felt when he screamed "bitch" as I passed him in the hallway one day. I screamed "fag" back. The principal told my parents, who, as a result, almost made me stay home from the 8th grade field trip to an amusement park. I remember sulking and throwing a fit for an entire day, until my parents finally caved and let me go after all. 

I really wanted to enjoy the trip with my new crush, and walk around the park holding his hand. But when the trip happened a few days later, the boy seemed to be avoiding me. I spent the whole day with other friends, but feeling sad, and when we got on the bus to go back home, someone told me that the boy was dating one of my friends! While I no longer recall all the details, I certainly remember how I felt for a stretch of several weeks to a few months at the end of the 8th grade - like I had no friends whatsoever.

The one friend who was there for me, could only sympathize so far. She was not a part of the friend group described above, who all came out as queer (or somewhere on the LGBTQ+ spectrum) in high school and college. In fact, she had tried to warn me about the evils of queerness in the 7th grade, after she had heard the rumor about me! She jammed a heartfelt note into my locker, imploring me to just have a little faith and my gay would be cured. She sealed the note with a cross pendant necklace. Around the same time, her mother paid my mother an unsolicited house visit, armed with a book about "the power of Jesus to heal your gay child."

In high school - junior and senior years - I had my first girlfriend. Our best friend was gay, and our other best friend was a straight girl (but she looked very artsy and many of our peers thought she was gay since she hung out with us). The four of us were artists and band nerds. Different from our peers, weird even. I remember another female friend teasing me, "I can't hang out with you because I'm not gay enough!" She came out as pansexual years later.

When my girlfriend and I held hands in the school cafeteria, one lunch monitor would constantly come around to remind us that PDA wasn't allowed. Meanwhile, the straight couples at tables around us were all over each other. Sometimes the boys would request that we make out, so that they could watch. Most of the sophomore and freshman girls in band respected us because we were both well-dressed artists, and seen as cool in some circles. This makes more sense today; sooooo many people I knew from high school marching band (including the ENTIRE clarinet section) have come out as gay or queer since then. Outside of school, people would stare at us and make hateful or lewd comments. Our parents seemed embarrassed or uncomfortable, to say the least.

I dated a very sweet boy for most of college. He was good to me, and will make someone very happy someday. However, he was constantly getting jealous of my female friends - he knew that even though I really did love him, I had crushes on them all and he didn't want to share me. When he graduated and I still had a semester left to go, we broke up for a multitude of reasons. It was around this time that I began to identify as non-monogamous.

During my last semester of college, I lived with a trans woman who became an inspiration. Queer folks in general, but specifically trans women, are some of the smartest, most liberated, and strongest people that I've ever met. It takes a tremendous level of knowing oneself and willingness to be vulnerable to come out as trans. Getting to know her really helped me re-embrace my queerness, which had been put on the back burner while dating that boy.

Historically, I’ve been pretty "cis-and-straight-passing," meaning that when the average person looks at me, they don't immediately guess that I'm queer or genderqueer. I have a lot to say about this, as it is always something I felt uncomfortable about. Realizing that I’m non-binary has helped me make a lot of sense of these feelings (and so I will eventually write a separate post about being enby). Trying to blend in with cis-straight folks feels so inauthentic; but it's something I’ve always felt obligated to do. At the same time, for many years it was an uphill battle to feel accepted into the queer community.

I now realize that this is not because I wasn't being accepted by them, but because I struggled to accept myself. It was so easy in college to talk to my family and others about my boyfriend; when I had a girlfriend, every mention of my private life was a repeat of "coming out." In the midst of navigating romantic relationships for the first time, I ended up defending myself, becoming objectified, or answering a barrage of questions about my sexual preferences.

Since college, I've casually dated people who identify all over the gender spectrum. But more importantly, I've found true friendship in queer folks.

Now that I'm back in my home state, I was living with another very close friend of mine who is female, but presents masculine and identifies as a butch pansexual. For her birthday, she and I and two other friends - another trans woman and a straight woman - all went to a cozy log cabin to celebrate, and we had so much fun! We drank mushroom tea in a hot tub, rolled around on a super soft carpet, and built a bonfire. We made yummy food, played drums, platonically cuddled, and goofed around. I felt so in alignment with my true self.

It was that cabin trip that inspired me to write this journal entry. I had a moment there, when I realized that I've always felt the most at home around queer folks. I've gravitated towards them for my whole life, without even realizing it. As a neuro-divergent artist, traveller, and entrepreneur, who challenges social norms constantly, I rarely feel like I fit in. The queer community encourages me to let my "freak flag" fly. And more importantly, I've accepted myself.

I am Paisley, child of Janet, grand child of Mary and Clara. I am a queer, nonbinary priestexx. I like the terms pansexual and genderfluid to describe myself.

At this point in my life, I'm extremely grateful for all of my life experiences, even though some of them have been hard. They've ultimately made me the person I am today, and I wouldn't change a thing.

Thank you, dear one, for reading my reflection. If any of this has resonated with you, given you some insight, or if you identify as queer yourself, I would love to hear from you. 

Until next time.

ॐ
With all my love,
Paisley Parvati Devi