Be Yourself (Dear LB #2)

Dear LB,

For my entire life I've been told that I'm wrong.  

My family thought being gay was wrong and tried every which way to change me. 

Then as a little butch myself in my early 20s, older queer women would tell me I was wrong. I didn't know X band/artist or I hadn't read X book or watched X show. They would ask, "What kind of lesbian are you?" in strongly condescending tones. 

Now that I'm middle-aged (is early 40s still middle age? Hm), I get it from younger queer folks, too. Now, I'm not inclusive enough or I need to pick certain words for myself so they can tell who I am from my labels. Or maybe I'm ignorant of some new queer thing happening on social media. 

When this happens to you, take a pause. 

You know inside who you are. In your quietest, deepest center, you have a knowing. That knowing is the only polestar you need.

You do not need to check off certain cultural boxes to earn enough credits to be lesbian. You do not need to know the entire encyclopedic history of our folks. You do not have to know every shade of the rainbow flag or every inclusive word ever imagined.

No one has the right to tell you how to move about in this world.

No. One.

Not your parents. Not your friends. Not the fucking internet. And certainly not the very people who are supposed to be in your corner, the people who should have some understanding of just how fucking hard it can be to figure yourself out.

No. Fucking. Body.

Be yourself. Be your own beautiful special snowflake. Experiment. Be curious. 

Try things until you find the ones that work for you. And then stick with those things until they stop serving you or you outgrow them. 

Be yourself.

Because you are the only beautiful you here. 

We need your beauty. Your unique way of viewing the world. We need you pushing against limits and expectations, no matter where they come from. 

We need you blazing your own path. Charting your own map.

You are beautiful. Valued. Loved.

Be yourself.

Love, 

Brenn