#filthy hypocrite

Today I decided to go to the local café for dinner along with some friends I don’t know that well. While there, the humour took a very dark, and very inappropriate turn. I haven’t written so here before, but I find most things around sex and genitalia revolting. So, when the conversation took a very dark turn towards paedophilia and rape and other such things, I became highly uncomfortable. Some members of the group present knew that I preferred to stay far away from anything regarding sex, but they stayed on the subject all the same. Heck, my visible discomfort became part of the humour there. I tried to play along slightly with the humour and how my brain was “censoring most of the conversation” to ease my discomfort. I hoped that if I did that, the subject would eventually change. It didn’t, in fact, the chef came and joined the conversation, and for a moment it seemed as if the others decided that they should change the subject because an “adult” (what? Most of us were over 18, we are adults!) was now present. However, as soon as it came forth the chef also had such dark humour, it got even worse. I just tried to finish my meal as quickly as I could, then leave, while keeping my brains automatic censoring feature running overtime. I left feeling very upset, but tried not making a scene of it.

Now, why did I not ask them to stop? Given how uncomfortable I was? Because I this summer realized that would make me a filthy hypocrite. I had noticed that every argument I could use against people discussing sex and things of a sexual nature in front of me, could, and probably will be used against me expressing myself as gender-queer (Ha! Nearly made you think this was a blog about more than just my gender-identity!). “It makes me uncomfortable”, “It’s just not how our social structure is built”, etc.. I can’t rightfully say these things about sex without accepting them thrown against lgbtq people. So, what did I do? In a heartbeat I decided that I have to accept people around me discussing sex in my presence. As much as I dislike it, I must either accept that, or accept every argument against me expressing my gender identity. If I deny people discussing sex, I am no better than those who deny lgbtq people and lgbtq youth from expressing their identity, no matter what it is.

Until now it has been ok. Now and then it has left me feeling slightly uncomfortable, but that is something I just have to deal with. Plus, my brain is very good and censoring things I don’t want to process, I hardly remember anything from the conversation at the café. However, thus far, it had only been brief mentions and references here and there, and if there would be anything more serious, I would know beforehand and brace myself. This time however, was the dirtiest thing I’ve ever been near, and I hadn’t braced myself. I was anticipating a nice little dinner with friends at a nice little café. I was not prepared to be spending the whole time waiting for the food, and the whole time eating to fight mentally against knowledge that would make me disgusted I knew, and to not process enough information to start vomiting at the table. I left early feeling very displeased, and with them laughing at having spoken enough dirty things to make me leave. Because as much as I feel I have no right to exercise this mentally over others, I still find sex to be one of the most revolting things on this planet. And no amount of logic can change my feelings, not directly, anyhow.

What bothers me furthermore, is that I really should be speaking to someone about this, like some of the closer friends I’ve gotten here at the folk-college. Whenever something bothers me, I recluse myself away from everyone. I don’t let them know that I’m feeling bad. I distance myself from everyone, either fighting the air in the dark of the night, sitting behind the gym, crying, or by sitting at my computer, in my room, writing to this blog. Even if I feel like I don’t have the right to feel the way I do (I know that it’s ok to feel however I feel, it’s just that I feel I can’t act on those feelings without making others feel bad too...), I shouldn’t feel like I’m not allowed to say what’s on my mind. Not saying what’s on my mind isn’t healthy, and I’ve been doing that for far too long. It really helps to speak with someone, and perhaps I still will, once I remember the Norwegian word for hypocrite...

-Rune