Pageboy: A Memoir
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Read between June 19 - June 20, 2023
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suppose gratitude is the course of action, but if I was not born, I’d have no perception of what I’d be missing, nor would anyone else miss me. This would suit me just fine. We are all micro specks, almost nothing in the grand scheme.
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Coming out in 2014 was more a necessity than a decision, but yes, it was one of the most crucial things I have ever done for myself. No matter what came after, a different kind of exposure, vulnerability, it was all worth it. All a step. I’d rather feel pain while living than hiding.
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I think about that moment a lot—the anger that man felt entitled to display and my response to it. In our society anger and masculinity are so intertwined—I hope to redefine that in my own life.
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And you may find somebody kind to help and understand you Someone who is just like you and needs a gentle hand
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Social anxiety was already a prevalent aspect of my life and as my mental health suffered, my isolation intensified, just a text to a friend seemed out of reach. The idea of making a plan unfeasible. Loneliness had always been a staple for me, an inherent disconnect from my surroundings, a foundational dissociation. Lured away from my existence, I thought those around me wanted me to disappear—that I was preferred as an illusion.
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In the late 1990s, I loved to Rollerblade around Regatta Point. “What’s the hardest part of Rollerblading?” “Telling your parents you are gay.” Is it bad I love that joke?
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“The system is twisted so that the cruelty looks normative and regular and the desire to address and overturn it looks strange,” Sarah Schulman writes in her required read, Ties That Bind: Familial Homophobia and Its Consequences.
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Being closeted while learning Roller Derby has a special type of irony to it, given how intertwined queerness is with the sport, but throwing myself into learning this new skill still opened up a much-needed pocket of joy in my life at the time.
41%
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Lost Valley, the course, the space, that time disconnected from my current ways, was something I craved, I wanted to push through my silly little fears and go.
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“My keys are always in my pocket, that is what I tell myself,” explained Drew. “If I’m not sure, if I’m hesitant and scared, I simply remind myself that I have my keys in my pocket and I can leave at any point. You can just leave.”
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dressed up as Elliott, hit the streets of Manhattan with some pals, and had the best Halloween ever. Wishes can come true.
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It struck me as sad, I should already have this knowledge. Instead, my mind had been shaped and plugged into a system that makes us sick while we make the planet sick.
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The reality is that I’d benefited from being plugged in, but learning all this new material felt like I was relinquishing society’s hold on me. I’d spent a sizable amount of time squeezing into the system even though my body rejected it.
54%
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It turns out I am not exactly a Speedo guy, but wearing swim trunks for the first time, chest out and with my scars visible, was indescribable. Perhaps that moment in Toronto was best captured in a photo I posted on Instagram. A smile on my face as massive as they come.
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Being in proximity to Jessica changed me. Growing up with hardly any queers around, this person helped me discover myself, someone who had pushed through the fear and the shame to exist proudly. Running into her on the sidewalk, seeing her at a party, eating the wraps she made at the mall, I didn’t have a crush, but I yearned to be near what was possible. Her visibility meant the world to me. I think about this as I walk through the world now.
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If a part of you is always separate, if existing in your body feels unbearable—love is an irresistible escape. You transcend, a sensation so indescribable that philosophers, scientists, and writers can’t seem to agree on what the fuck it even is—if it even is. I often wonder if I have actually experienced deep love. I feel as though I have, but is it real if you were never there? When you have numbed yourself to the truth?
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It began with him acknowledging that his companion knew who I was, but he did not. I took the liberty of googling you. (Uh-oh) He went on to say that what I am wasn’t real. A belief and just that. Your soul is struggling. You need the arms of the Heavenly Father around you. (Ew) And I kid you not. Signed, Your Heavenly Daddy.
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Better boundaries, less fearful, more openhearted. Stronger, with a burgeoning confidence I did not possess before. Reminders and lessons emerge from our most painful moments, ones I’m sure I will forget and have to remember again. But I would rather remember, I’d rather the hurt than not—at least I got to love you, at least I felt your love for me.
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How do people do it? How do they shut off the noise? And I don’t mean “happy,” they may not be happy, but they seem to be able to exist at least. People existed with a fluidity that I wished to possess. Motion entwined with the present and an engagement with life that I had lost a long time ago.
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Every day I hung on tight, bound up. A blockage of sorts. I would need to drain the wound.
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I should not have to grovel with gratitude. Am I grateful? Fuck, yeah! But everyone should have access to gender-affirming and lifesaving health care. It just should be.
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I am sick of the creepy focus on my body and compulsion to infantilize (which I have always experienced, but nothing like this). And it isn’t just people online, or on the street, or strangers at a party, but good acquaintances and friends.
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Friends making quips about my facial hair growing in. Jokes about what name I should have chosen. A year and a half later and the pronouns are still just too much for some. I am patient, we all are endlessly learning and I’ve made the same mistakes, but sometimes patience wears thin. I know these instances and remarks may seem tiny, but when your existence is constantly debated and denied, it sucks you dry. Sprawled out, bare, I crave gentleness. The truth is, in many ways, my narrative is still unfolding. I have been on testosterone for over a year now. Every Friday I wake up excited yet ...more
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Altered by the concert, it wasn’t just the fake blood I took home, but also a sense of discovery. I’d been in a new dimension where I’d touched my queerness, where I’d jumped and flailed in a crowd with people like me. A space for celebration, not ridicule.