At the age of 18, I was in a railway station when I saw her
In a sari, decked up.
With flowers in her hair and I felt something.
Attraction? Nothing mild about it.
Coming out to myself has made it less surreal and more tangible and since then I have been subtly coming out to few trusted friends here and there. Some were shocked, some were neutral and some came out as bisexual and asexual themselves.
Like most women, my sexuality is somewhat fluid and my identity has changed over the years: as a teenager and early on in my transition I defined myself as bisexual, then as a lesbian.
Having been out to my parents for some time, I didn’t expect any resistance, and I didn’t expect any excitement either. Like my sexual and gender identity, this too was just some random thing happening in my life that they chose to stay unbothered about.
I am 25, single as single can be and still struggle to gather the courage and let that cute guy next door know I really really really really really really really like him!
I for one try not to hate people for finding drag uncomfortable, because hate is a useless and damaging emotion. I see this story instead as an attempt to build conversation around the phobia.
While I believed that slurs can be reclaimed and used as devices of power to combat oppression, my friend did not agree.
The worst of it all came when someone told me bisexual erasure is fake
I transitioned when I was 18, so living as a woman for the last ten years has mostly eliminated the dysphoria I had from being pigeonholed into a male role, but I still have a strong sense of dysphoria about certain aspects of my body.
In the process of sorting through blurry, old memories and trying to over-analyse them, I found the answer in a game that most of us played when we were kids, “Ghar Ghar”.
In my 27 years of existence, I’ve embodied various personas and roles. Even today, I behave slightly differently in the office, around parents, at a party and when I’m alone in my room.
Papa, I have not been an ideal child. We have fought plenty over the choices I have made in life.
And then, I saw her for the first time…On a railway station in the midnight, her heading off to marry her love; I knew we were in it together for the long haul.
Pride was not only interpreted as being proud of one-self, but it was also about collectively standing up against pervasive shame.
Pride marches are about acceptance. People from a wide range of spectrum come together for ONE DAY in a year to celebrate their existence and their individuality.
Whether I love doing drag, I am yet to figure.
Everyone around me seemed elated, not a single care in the world, and a fire in their eyes, a storm brewing.
The next Awadh Pride march will be held on 11th February, 2018. This will be my first pride and I hope to make it an unforgettable experience.
I want to be swept off my feet. I want to fall hook, line and sinker. I want to marry someone, because I want to and not because I am on a deadline.
What I also discovered was that unless you wanted to be the guest, threesomes weren’t something to rush into.