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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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.