A PanAfricanist Queer Womanist Collective
By Newly Anonymous
What I swore would never happen to me because I am too strong, independent and funky (yes, that’s right, I used funky after the disco era).
It happened to me despite living in a different city/ country.
I got a ‘gay facebook ’ account.
Let me take a minute to say frik.
Don’t believe this shit.
I am so mad.
It would probably be best to give some context. I have been bisexual all my life I am figuring (first made out with a girl at the grand old age of 6), but ‘openly’ so for the past 3 or so years. Now I use the term openly loosely. I am out to about 90% of the people I know, including my currently devastated mother, intrigued cousins and very calm and somewhat detached long term family friend and ‘older sister’. Before that it was just my friends and I went along my merry little way in Cape Town, my lack of interaction in social media being my saving grace. I had no time for Facebook, and Twitter was mainly to tell people stories of how squirrels in the park were fighting.
Then came The Great Twitter Outing of 2012 in which my best friend managed to out me to my mother who then had the most catacylismc freak-out-melt-down, and hit me with all the Bible hits such as ‘Sodom and Gormmorah’ and the number one single ‘burn in hell homosexual’. This was an intense time with my amazing girlfriend, awesome and wise straight and gay friends and the song the ‘Good Life’ by One Republic getting me through.
Fast forward a few months and the blog is born. The beautiful brain child of my oracle of gay and academia Christel and I find myself thrust back into the world of Facebook. I carry on my Facebook existence as I do my Capetonian existence, post blog articles and videos and writing on the Lesbian Stories wall, and Out in Africa, and being my normal bisexual self. Problem herein lies is Facebook is the only place where my two worlds collide.
And collide they did.
Now as I write this, the sharks are circling. They smell blood. Or to be more precise, they smell gay. And they want answers. But in true Jaws fashion they do not attack yet. They circle, finding information, reading blogs and biding their time. No-one has approached me directly. No comments have been made on statuses. No inboxes. No sms’ no phone calls. But I know they are circling. So I have a decision to make, I guess. Either I stay put and be devoured, or I swim to shore like they just announced that the local beach bar is handing out free cocktails for a limited time only.
I am a chicken shit. I have chosen to swim. I could say it’s to save my mother the hassle as she is not ready for the family to know (only last night she spoke about how excited she is to have a son in law). I could say it’s because my personal life is my own, and no one’s business. Truth be told I am doing it cause I am suddenly paralysed by fear and can do nothing else but write this and set up a separate Facebook at the same time. I would put the name here but in my panic I made it the most obvious thing.
I will not lie I do feel like a chicken shit right now. But guess it takes some hot water to realize how strong you are huh? Guess I wasn’t that strong when it came down to it.
Anyway. Back to inviting the 500/530 people on my Facebook who know I have a girlfriend.
(since this post was written Facebook has since closed the account claiming it was not a ‘real persons’ account…go figure.)
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