F*ck The Binaries

Photo by Luke Heibert

Let’s get one thing straight (well, queer) right out of the gate: “Queer” should be the galaxy-brain, neon-colored, glitter-splattered umbrella term of our DREAMS. It’s supposed to be a space for all of our brilliant weirdness, the soft edges, sharp corners, the glorious liminal space and ambiguity of what it means to be human.

It’s supposed to be big. Cosmic. Unruly. Unapologetic.

And yet… we are tiptoeing around linguistic tripwires, debating micro-labels and sub-identities, trying to fold ourselves up like origami swans to fit inside boxes the word queer was never meant to hold.

Somehow the identity that’s supposed to exist as a vast sky of opportunity has been feeling like another closet with maybe some extra commodities.

Language does matter, and naming ourselves can feel like freedom from the constraints we were raised with. But what happens when the narrative becomes an Olympic level gymnastics practice of “proper terminology”, or “approved labels”, or how to own the status of “respectable queerness”?

Why are we so preoccupied with constructing the perfect label castle to live in when so many of us are out here trying to dynamite the walls to begin with? Why are we so quick to gatekeep the front door of a community that literally exists because boundaries were never our jam?

Here’s the truth, the reality in the way I see it:

We’re all worthy of existing in our loud, soft, messy, confusing, brilliant, sparkly, emotional, expressive, exuberant self in whatever constellation we are. Words should help us shine, not create opportunity to create binaries within an organically expansive state. Language is a tool, it isn’t supposed to become another boos to fight in order to belong.

Queerness doesn’t require justification or community endorsement.Identity doesn’t need to be the right kind of queer (what does that even mean?).Your story doesn’t need a glossary tor to be over-explained to be valid or inherently worthy of taking up space.

Instead of getting tangled in linguistic acrobatics, what if we allowed queerness to be what it is: expansive, evolving, and delightfully resistant to being pinned down?

What if we embraced the chaos just a little?What if we let each other breathe?What if we trusted that everyone’s light (whether it’s a disco ball, a candle flame, or full-blown supernova) is worthy of its own DAMN shine, no matter the language?

The truth, to me, is that you don’t need to fit into a word to deserve belonging.

The word should expand to fit you.

And if it doesn’t? Well, we can always make up a new one.

Yours in love, always.

-Sarah