Queer Pi for the Fat Bi

This is proving to be a hard one to write, y'all. I had hoped that this was going to be a bright and happy post. Something to celebrate an accomplishment.

My heart and head just hurt. I'm just exhausted from... well, everything.

But I'll try my best to bring some love and light to you, my dear readers. Because maybe a rainbow is exactly what we need right now.

Back in June, a craftalong arose on instagram that I felt I had to take a part of.

It came out of the desire for a digital knitting group for those of us in the queer community who are not as comfortable at the typical Pride celebration. Large crowds and loud noises are not our jam. It was also geared towards those of us who maybe still trying to learn how to be comfortable with our queer identities.

As it started growing and changing, it was decided that not only would this serve as a way to bring the crafty queer folks together, but also as a way to celebrate queer dyers and pattern designers. Participants were encouraged to use yarn and/or patterns specifically from queer folks.

Thus, the Quiet Queers Craftalong was born.

I knew from the beginning that using Morgan's yarn from Knitcraft and Knittery was the only option for me. I ended up using their merino fingering weight in a deep charcoal black called My Sister's Soul.

As for the pattern, I decided to bite off more than I could chew challenge myself by picking a circular shawl by Frenchie of Aroha Knits. Because, y'know, it only took me A YEAR to knit my last circular shawl...

Caim Shawl called to me. So, I purchased the pattern, got my yarn, and got started...

And then IMMEDIATELY decided to add misery for myself another challenge by incorporating beads into the increase rounds. Did I mention they're in rainbow order?

Y'all, I STRUGGLED with this one. I struggled hard. I knit all of my anger and frustration and hurt into this shawl. And I just couldn't finish it properly.

My heart and my hands hurt so much that I ended up binding off 48 rows early.

Yes, my friends. I made a shawl smaller than the pattern called for again. That should tell you how much I was dealing with in my head while making it.

My mental health was in the worst place it'd been in two years. Plus, we were dealing with having to fix our bathroom. And that was just personal stress. That's not counting the absolute burning shithole the world in general is at the moment.

Even so, it came out the size that the pattern listed the final dimensions to be, so could you even imagine how big it would be if I would have finished those last two repeats?

We had planned on taking pictures this last weekend and I was struggling to decide what to wear. ("Struggle" seems to be the name of the game lately...)

And that's when I had yet another bloody awful brilliant idea to wear not just one outfit, but six of them.

Yes, in rainbow order... on a ridiculously hot day where all of my makeup would melt off.

Because if we're going to show off our queer pride, why not go all out?

It probably comes as no surprise that I have enough dresses to wear the whole rainbow.

I'm someone who loves wearing colors across the whole spectrum.

And I know that this is supposed to be about the shawl and the craftalong, but as I'm writing this, I'm realizing just how much my style has changed over the last couple of years.

It's evolved into something that feels right... feels wholly ME.

And it's not just my outward styling, but my whole identity.

I'm finally embracing all the different factions and parts that make up me.

My bisexuality, my polyamory, my knitting, my mental illnesses, my drive to make things, my trauma, my fears, hopes, and dreams...

The good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, it all swirls together and has formed me into the person I am today.

And knowing who you are, where you belong in this world, is such a gift.

I've fought so hard to get to this place for myself.

And you know what?

I'm proud of myself.

I'm proud of who I am.

And I know that even though I will stumble and make mistakes, as long as I keep moving forward, I'll be pretty dang proud of who I am in the future, too.

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Erasing : Me : Redrawing : Myself : Finding : I

Another conversation took place last month in the online knitting community, this one on the use of the term "bistitchual" and how it can be considered bi-erasure.

A topic that I, as someone who identifies as bisexual, have a valid opinion on. So when I saw the discussions taking place... I kept silent.

This post isn't about that discussion.

No, this is about me and confronting myself. Forcing myself to actually take the time and unpack the thoughts and feelings I've had swirling in my head for years.

I've never felt like I belonged in the LGBTQIA community. No matter how many memes and pictures and articles and affirmations I share, I have never felt queer enough to belong. 

From the outside, my primary relationship looks like a cisgender, heteronormative one. And most people don't know we're poly. So even though I have a girlfriend, everyone just assumes I'm a straight woman married to a straight man. 

And because I didn't really figure out my sexuality until John and I had been together for a while, I never went through the whole "experimentation phase." I didn't deal with being in the closet my whole childhood and adolescence. I was 19 when my brain suddenly lit up and went, "Girls? Yes, girls. We like them, too."

I actually remember the moment it happened, too. It was December 17th, 2010. John and I were laying in bed together in our second apartment, watching Lar DeSouza, one of our favorite comic artists, work on a new pin-up design. 

It was a female Krampus piece. And something about her made my little heart just start a'beatin and a'flutterin. It was less like a bright light bulb going off and more like a tiny candle being lit. Not an earth shattering revelation, but something that I just accepted. Just an, "Oh, okay. This is who we are now." And at the time, I thought it didn't really matter since I was already in a committed relationship. 

As for family acceptance, it wasn't really a big deal. I think I may have casually mentioned it to my mom and grandparents. None of them had a problem with it. It was more just like, "Oh, okay." 

In regards to the rest of my family, it doesn't really matter. They have no dealings with my day to day life, so it's of no concern to them. I haven't gone out of my way to tell them, but I don't hide it either.

And my in-laws... since they dislike me already, I definitely have no interest in talking to them about my sexual orientation. Unless, of course, I really want to just piss them off. Which I'm not above doing.

Do you really need to ask about my friends? Almost all of them are queer themselves or allies. We're all wrapped up in this giant rainbow flag.

So, I've never really experienced the harassment and hate that so many others have. And though it's completely ridiculous and something I would chide someone else about, because I haven't "suffered" for my orientation, I don't feel like I am allowed to claim it. 

And it is SO HARD to get over that mindset.

I just recently started using the queer knitters hashtag on instagram and even doing that caused me anxiety. My brain started telling me that I was appropriating it. That I was going to be called out and publicly shamed because I wasn't "allowed" to use it. 

But I want to be more visible. I want to openly share my experiences. To let other bisexual people know that they're allowed to exist and be happy and be themselves. 

And to do that, I need to accept that I am queer enough. I am a part of the LGBTQIA community. I am allowed to claim that identity.

So, hi. My name is Ashtan and I am openly, unabashedly, and proudly bisexual. And I am enough.

Glams and Games

I FINALLY am feeling up to chronicling the past couple of weeks, because, jesums, they've been a doozy.

Note to self: multiple people-heavy events two weekends in a row are going to completely drain all your spell slots.

Rather than trying to cram it all in at one time, I'll be kind enough to break it into a couple of posts.

First off, we need to go clear back to the weekend of the 16th. I know, I know, it's hard. You can't even remember what you had for dinner last night, but I believe in you!

Anyway, that weekend John and I had planned on going to Origins Game Fair in Columbus. It's become an annual tradition. And every year we swear that we're going to go for a few days, and it always turns into, "we're broke AF, guess it's just Saturday."

Enter my mom and her boyfriend. He had enough points built up in some reward system that he asked us if we wanted a free hotel room for the night. It was a belated anniversary present.

Uhh, yes please and thank you.

So John and I decided to go down to Columbus whenever we liked on Friday and then spend all day Saturday at Origins. We were hoping to go to the Pride festival and do some swimming. I also wanted to hit up Yarn It & Haberdashery.

But of course, this is us we're talking about. Nothing ever goes to plan.

First, we ended up leaving suuuppppper late, as per usual. We had to take Al to my mom's and then run a couple of small errands (like getting new swim trunks for the Supreme Butt Face).

We FINALLY started heading to Columbus in the early afternoon. We were supposed to arrive around 4, right when check-in would be. Perfect, right? We'd swim for a bit, get some food, meet Kayla at Pride... Sounds like a great friggin day.

Well, of course that's not what happened. There ended up being an accident RIGHT ON THE DAMNED EXIT WE NEEDED! Add in rush hour traffic on a Friday. We weren't going anywhere. And... we both had to use the bathroom.

We ended up getting off at the first exit we could find, looking desperately for somewhere we could use the bathroom and kill some time. Ended up stopping at a ToysRUs and proceeded to utterly destroy the restroom my god it had been hours and it was terrible *ahem* take care of business.

I felt bad about just using the bathroom and leaving, so I bought a friend.

This is Rupert.

I also bought some stuff so John and I could have an epic party in the hotel later.

Yes, I'm an adult, why do you ask?

We didn't end up getting to the hotel until 7:30, turning a quick 2 hour drive into a nearly 5 hour long purgatory. It really just shows the strength of John and I's marriage that we weren't at each other's throats by then.

So we decided to skip Pride, and just focus on swimming and relaxing in the room.

We knew we were getting a suite, but we certainly weren't expecting this level of swank.

Like, the bathroom was bigger than our bedroom at home. Mind. Blown.

I honestly felt a little guilty that we'd only be here for such a short amount of time.

We decided to head straight for the pool, only to discover much to our horror, there was a youth baseball team also staying in the hotel. And they were currently attempting to break out all the windows with their screaming in the pool.

Holy fucking nightmares, Batman.

We turned right back around and headed to the room.

At 9:30, we decided to go check again and lo, just a single family! We could deal with that.

So, we got to swim for 5 minutes before a dozen screeching demons all came flying into the room and dove right in, with no thought or care of any of the little ones in the pool.

They were screaming so loudly my ears were literally ringing. John and I were SCREAMING to try and talk to one another, but to no avail. We had to resort to hand gestures.

Needless to say, we left, throwing many a dirty look at the parents who were ignoring the steaming piles of human excrement that they referred to as their "children."

Yes, the parents were there and not doing a damn thing.

*sigh*

That's a rant for another day.

Anyway, we both hopped in the massive shower to clean the chlorine off and relax for a bit. I mean, there was a seat in there. I wanted to just spend the night in the shower, but John's a killjoy and wouldn't let me.

Dinner was the next goal and having such a fancy kitchen to work with, I felt like I had to cook something, but John argued that we were on vacation and I should get a break. So we compromised and made an easy-peasy dinner of sandwiches and trifles.

And yes, we poured our non-alcoholic beverages into the fancy wine glasses.

Look at that sweet layering action right there.

We busted out all the party stuff, too.

It was lit AF, yo.

We went to bed rather early (I think it was before 1?) and slept peacefully through the night...

Or not. Because I'm someone with IBS and anxiety. I got treated to a *lovely* panic attack at 4am. Not one of the super bad ones, but still pretty bad. Add in that I woke up in a pool of sweat from being overheated, and yeah, it was a rough night.

I told John to wake me back up at 7:30 because I really wanted to try for a morning swim while he had breakfast.

Well, he didn't.

Instead, he let me sleep until 9am, and then I got treated to another panic attack because "ohmygodIonlyhavetwohourstogetreadyandIknowI'mgoingtobestuckinthebathroomforawhileandyoustillwanttoeatandohmygoddddddddd"

He ended up going down for breakfast while I got ready to go. We managed to check out just a couple minutes past 11, after unsuccessfully trying to stuff the dishwasher in the suitcase.

Side note: I was proud of my super fast, crappy lighting makeup.

And yes, I made the necklace myself just for Pride.

Made one for Kayla, too!

Not bad for just using supplies I had on hand.

We'd already decided to go to Yarn It before Origins because they were having their 3rd anniversary sale. It wasn't far from the hotel, so off we went.

I got treated to an amazing gift bag with all sorts of goodies inside just for walking in the door.

And I decided on some FaerieGrl yarn as my souvenir skein. It's this gorgeous grey with an uber soft rainbow dyed into it.

Totes in love with it.

By the time we made it Origins, the Columbus Pride Parade was in full swing. We managed to find a break and run across the street to get to the convention center. But not before I stopped and grabbed a quick pic.

I wish I could have gotten a better one showing off the mass of people that were heading up the street. It was overwhelming and inspiring.

We finally, finally, FINALLY made it into Origins and John was a happy camper.

We took a pic with our favorite Boss Monster mascot.

I bought a crown.

Took a pic with a cutie.

And walked around the entire convention working on June's shawl.

AND I DIDN'T BREAK MY NEEDLES THIS YEAR!!!

I even managed to find a sheep.

This was just my swag from the convention.

Since this is so long, I won't go into any detail about what I got. But if you have questions, I'll answer in the comments.

We left finally left Columbus around 7 and headed home. The drive back was mostly uneventful (aside from nearly running out of gas and having to stop once just to wash bugs off the windshield...).

When we walked in the door, we were promptly ran over by the various fur babies who must have missed us terribly.

I mean, I wasn't even allowed to pee without a few of them pushing open the door and trying to get affection.

I'll spare you the pic and just leave you with this one instead.

All in all, it was a fun, if exhausting weekend. And I'm already looking forward to next year. I might be recovered by then.

Orlando

Just fyi, this is more of a brain dump than a well thought out and reasoned post. I apologize for a lack of eloquence on my part. It's hard to write when your heart and head hurt.

I'm sure that all of you are already aware of the tragedy that occurred at the Pulse gay nightclub early this morning in Orlando, Florida. More than 50 people dead and just as many injured. Committed by a man with a vendetta against anyone who considers themselves a member of the LGBT+ community.

Senseless violence.

Wasted lives.

Just because you dare to love someone.

Or be someone different.

Or don't subscribe to antiquated notions of orientation or gender identity.

Or hell, even just allying yourself with these people.

How fucked up is that?

I won't even pretend to know exactly what it's like to be hated, shunned, and potentially harmed over my sexual orientation.

On the surface, I present to the world as a heterosexual person in a long-term, committed relationship with a man.

I didn't really come to terms with my bisexuality until a few years ago. And seeing as I've only ever really had one long term relationship and that is with my husband, I never had to go through bringing home a partner of the same gender.

But I am out as bisexual to most of my family. They have been accepting of it. Going so far as to say that as long as I was happy, that was all that mattered.

Sometimes I wonder if that would have been the case if I would have fallen in love with someone of the same gender instead. But my heart tells me that they would have loved me (and her) all the same.

I am extremely lucky in that regard.

But what if I hadn't been born into such a loving and accepting clan?

It's not too hard to imagine.

I've seen the news articles about the discrimination. The hatred. The violence.

I've heard the stories, told by survivors, some barely understood as they sob and choke on their words.

Others, spoken in a dead voice, with a long stare off into a terrifying memory.

And still others having to have their stories told by others, because their own voices have been forever silenced.

People have been thrown out of their homes.

Disowned by their families.

Lost jobs, lost friends.

Been threatened, been beaten.

Been driven to self-harm and suicide.

Been murdered.

For being themselves.

I could have been one of those people, if born in a different time or place.

By a fucking quirk of being born into the family I have, I have never experienced any of this firsthand.

And that is a sobering thought.

I don't have my usual light-hearted quips to try and help people smile through the pain.

I can only offer this perspective.

I'd like to think that this upswing of bigotry and violence are the death throes of a vile and dangerous ideology.

That maybe, just maybe, our generation can be the one to tell our grandchildren that we fought for and won equality for our LGBT+ brethren.

Then they can laugh at their silly old grandparents who knew people who actually thought that just because you were a different race, orientation, or gender meant something.

It's a very small, very tiny little light of hope.

To those of you who stand, once again, on the wrong side of history.

Love is going to win in the end.

Your outdated and backwards way of thinking is on the out.

You know deep inside that no matter how much hate and violence you spew, no matter how many of us you maim and kill, that You. Will. Not. Win.

We won't back down. We won't be silent. We will stand strong and we will fight.

For each other. For our future.

For equality.

For love.