I love my friends.
I love them heterosexual-queer-interested friends.
But there is something to them queer-feminist friends that have that queer as an identification and not only as a political-utopian-standing. Let’s call them queer-feminist family.
But queer-feminist, not as in a „queer-feminist-written-in-the-same-style”, but as in a „queer-in-bold-feminist-in-cursive” kind of way.
Bold and cursive – both highlighted/emphasized, but in a different way. Both unthinkable without the other, but not the same. Two different words describing distinct atmospheres of reality without dividing them.
The queer–feminist family holds together loved ones that are in the same boat without them all wearing them same life jackets. Every jacket is different. Different kinds of pockets. Different kinds of patterns. Different kinds of patches. Different contents in the pockets. Different sizes. Different shapes. Different colors.
Them jackets give us a feeling of familiarity. Once we know a person wearing them jackets, we feel responsible for them because we too wear them. That doesn’t mean we love all them other life jacket wearers and that they share them same values of our queer–feminist family, but they could be potential family members.
Those not wearing a life jacket may be part of my other families. That’s not arrogant or exclusive elite-shit – it’s a strategy of sharing struggles, having each others backs, respecting them queer–feminist struggles as struggles with another atmosphere than them queer-feminist struggles or them heterosexual-queer-interested struggles. It’s a strategy of being proud and strong and loud about ones’ identity in a climate that subversively becomes more LGBTIQ-phobic again.
No one has to be alone in this. No one is alone in this!
Queer–feminist family, queer-feminist family, queer–feminist family – form one, join one, become one!
One struggle. One fight.