Someone I know via social media posted the following update three days ago.
A friend and I went to the gym tonight. After our workout we tried to relax in the hot tub, when a random lady in an American flag bikini approached me.
The lady: ‘What does your tattoo mean?’
Me: ‘Oh, that’s my angry-feminist-bi-pride tattoo.’
‘Angry, feminist, bisexual pride. This is a feminist symbol, and it’s on top of the bisexual pride flag.’
The lady compliments my friend’s nails. An awkward silence.
‘Why are you bisexual?’
‘I don’t know how to answer that. I just am.’
‘Because I’m attracted to more than one gender.’
‘She’s attracted to all the genders’, my friend adds. We high five.
‘When I was little I was molested. Then I was told I was a lesbian.’
‘Well, that has nothing to do with me. I’m just bisexual.’
Banter ensues between me and my friend about how shitty men are and how glad I am that I never have to date one. The lady says something about how I should learn to tolerate men’s crap, then: ‘Have you heard about your personal lord and saviour, Jesus Christ?’
‘I don’t want to talk about Jesus at the gym.’
The lady continues talking about Jesus.
‘This makes me really uncomfortable. Please stop.’
The lady continues talking about Jesus, mentioning something about hellfire.
‘I don’t appreciate being told I’m going to hell for who I love.’
‘I didn’t say that. I didn’t say you’re going to hell. You’re the one who said that.’ (She tells me this in a ‘Gotcha now, queer! You know you’re gross’ tone.)
‘Don’t lie. You literally just quoted scripture to me about hellfire. Go away now.’
‘I didn’t say that. I’m not your judge. I don’t judge.’
‘Well, I judge – and you’re gross. Go away.’
‘Have you heard’, my friend asks me loudly, ‘about your lord and personal saviour, Satan?!’ We proceed to discuss the the black altar and orgasms. The lady walks away.
We reported her to the front desk for harassing us. They seemed to take the matter very seriously.
When I shared it with my followers, the exchange below happened between me and my Christian mum. (Her comments are in regular text, mine in bold.) It makes me want to write about a multitude of things – ally culture, the realities of queerness and Christianity, the fact I’ve lost offline relationships as a result – but for now I haven’t much left in me to say. Continue reading “‘Grow up and stop spouting such utter crap’: when I told my ‘supportive’ mum she wasn’t a queer ally”