vostoklake: (punch)
I just had to defriend someone on FB for querying suspiciously why Tyler Clementi didn't murder his bullies before killing himself; and then going on to suggest that "being a victim is a personal choice". My stepfather also believed in "natural victims". He used to tell me I was one. And then beat me up, mock and humiliate me, and occasionally "jokingly" threaten to rape me. (That last one he apologised for, at least.)

That discourse, in its self-congratulation for lack of compassion, is very closely aligned to right-wing and libertarian ideas that bad things happening is a sign that people have made wrong choices, and therefore compassion is inappropriate (and we should let their houses burn down). ("If failure had no penalty then there would be no point striving for success" - such a capitalist notion.) Generally the people who're saying this are trying to suggest that their lives are great solely because of their own choices. Pure egotism, and defence of privilege, bordering on solipsism.

Although there's one point in the left-liberal response to all this that does strike a false note with me - the idea that homophobia in modern society is due to fundamentalist Christianity (or Islam, or Judaism - some religion we don't like, anyway). There was no-one religious in any serious way in my immediate family, but the bigotry against homosexuality was still palpable. It was a "small town petty-bourgeois" thing, not a God thing.
vostoklake: (otterly)


I was also dealing with coming out - bang in the middle of 80s feminism; when a ‘real’ dyke had cropped hair, wore dungarees, and eschewed the company of the enemy (men). As a female with big hair, lipstick, and a penchant for tight leather pants my timing couldn’t have been better.


Read moar from the lesbian vampire poetess - and co-vocalist for The March Violets, the greatest goth band in history* - here. The Violets are playing a gig in London in November and I'm gutted I can't make it.

* The Sisters of Mercy are not a goth band.
vostoklake: (lesbians? in my spaceship?)
After I left the truth and realized I was a lesbian, my husband and I reconciled to a large degree. We became friends, and put our marriage behind us. When we got divorced, we settled everything without lawyers or any disputes, we went to the courthouse together, and he, my girlfriend and I went out to lunch after the papers were signed. Eventually, he moved in with me and my girlfriend and became our roommate. It sounds weird to everyone else, but it works well for us. (Straight men who hear of this always give him this "atta boy" look. Sorry, everybody, it's not like THAT.)

(source)

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vostoklake

July 2015

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