As I was driving home from work one night I received a phone call. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary until I was asked the “three-word question.“ Instead of providing an answer I just laughed it off. This wasn’t the first time I had been asked that particular question, but it was the first time I’d been asked by my mom. I’d like to think that my mom and I are close. She’s been my light on some very dark days, yet there I was — reliving some of the most annoying moments of my childhood.
Saturday, I was on my way to a lil’ event and I received a text from one of my childhood friends. Wouldn’t you know this nigga asked me the same “three-word question.” Luckily, I had rehearsed and finally perfected my response, so I laughed and asked why.
Their responses were similar. They got irritated as if I were the one being annoying and pressed a little harder with their innocent inquiry.
Are you? Are you gay?
Which is usually followed by, “I mean I don’t care. I’d still love you.”
That statement always leaves me a bit perplexed, honestly — because,
If you don’t care, why do you need to know?
I didn’t know the love of these relationships were based on the condition of my sexual orientation.
But, as I’ve gotten older I’ve become well acquainted with a not so easily accepted truth: People change every day, B.
But seriously, I’m able to laugh it off now that I’ve been asked this question since the 6th grade. My peers were the first to project their limited understandings of masculinity and sexuality onto me. Where I was raised, those were fighting words, and I did. Mostly to prove to them that I wasn’t gay and to change that perception of me through violence. Go figure.
I also recall a teacher in high school telling me that I would be gay in ten years, to which I responded, “Well, you wouldn’t know because you’ll be dead in ten years.” Ironically, she’s still alive and I’m still not gay. But, as you can see, I learned to defend myself with words — which were sometimes just as violent.
Though I’m not obligated to tell anyone because it’s not anyone’s business. I’ll go ahead and answer once and for all: No, I’m not gay. Should I decide to enter into a romantic or intimate relationship, it’ll be with a sista.
But, for those inquiring minds that want to know. Here’s a little more information:
I’m every bit of 6’3″ and 252 lbs. No, I don’t play football or basketball. If I’m being honest I don’t like sports, never have. I can’t have a conversation about the playoffs, championship games, or who got traded to what team.
I love art.
I’m a musician.
I write poetry.
I enjoy talking about politics, social issues, philosophy, metaphysics, love, and feelings.
I like wearing floral patterns.
I’d wear a romper.
I have a rose gold phone case.
I drink tea.
I practice yoga.
I get pedicures.
I cry.
I hug my friends, regardless of gender.
I actually say ‘I love you’.
I like Beyonce’ and Frank Ocean.
I believe in black men showing affection and being vulnerable.
I heart posts on Facebook.
I shop at Lush.
I want to dismantle white supremacist capitalist patriarchy (if you haven’t read bell hooks we can’t be friends jk lol).
I’m nuanced. I mean we all are, though. Right?
Gender and sexuality are both fluid concepts. While some stay fixed on the spectrum, there are those that choose like God and water — to flow, freely. This reality is one of the many things that make life colorful because it most certainly isn’t just black and white.