Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Fly whatever flag: Pride and Me.





It's Pride month and sometimes it feels like being beaten over the head with a Rainbow Flag. Especially when you still aren’t quite sure where you fit in.

Pride is great. Pride means different things to different people. 

For me Pride is always first and foremost about the battles that went before, and the battles still to be fought and won. It’s about honouring those we have lost, who fought for our community, and those who are still here who led the way.

What it’s also about for me is being seen. About being visible. And for those of us comfortable being vocal, being visible for those outside the LGBT+ community to see we are just people. And for those who might be struggling to have people like them just to see.  

This blog is about a few things. It's about making Pride about what you need it to be. It's about not fitting in. About labels. 

Being bisexual is sometimes exhausting. A bit outside a community a bit in it. But moreover, having relationships feels like a minefield.

Let’s talk about labels. When I was 17 I called myself Pansexual. I used that term because. Because I heard Alan Cumming describe himself as that and a) I fancied him b) I thought he was one of the coolest people around. Both a & b are still true. 

I’ve been and out and proud bisexual woman since I was 17 and told my best (male) friend as much and he did the typical 17-year-old boy thing of telling me ‘that’s really hot’. Well at least it set me up for a lifetime of hearing that. I've told myself for 15 years I'm not bothered by biphobia, bierasure and that sense of not fitting in. But really. Honestly that's not true. 

Ironically today I label myself Bisexual, a label that the community at times it feels would like to erase. To which I say ‘bisexual’ is only transphobic if you’re a shitty transphobic person. Because when a person tells me their gender I accept it and don't ask what gender they were born before we continue speaking/flirting. And the term ‘Bisexual’ is an important label to many people. So, I’ll fight for it.

It’s not news that Bisexuals get a rough deal. There’s erasue of our identity from within the community, denial of it inside and out. The idea that we’re slutty, the idea we should just ‘pick a side’. And let me tell you I wish I could.

I can’t tell you the number of times I wished I could just ‘be gay’ and feel like a ‘proper’ member of our community. Isn’t that strange, you’d think if I was wishing for stuff I’d be wishing to be straight? Have my whole life easier. But I think it’s because I knew deep down I’d never be ‘in step’ with the straight community.

And back to labels, though a part of me abhors that, I think I’ve finally found labels that describe me. I’ve always felt like a freak because I’m not driven by relationships. I don’t seek them out. I don’t date much. And no, to put it bluntly I don’t seek out sex either. It’s just never been a driver for me. My straight friends in particular never understood. For most of them firstly seeking sex when we were younger, and later seeking longer-term sex in the form of relationships was always a driver. TV and film and books tells us we should always be seeking if not a relationship then at the very least sex.

And I just never have. I wondered if it was prudishness (nope). Insecurity (nope, I’m a pretty confident date as it happens). It’s just….not something I want. And yet….

I do however fall for people often. Romanticized dreaming and fantasies that usually (always) comes crashing down around me.

It turns out there’s an element of asexuality about me. To be precise demisexul. Which means, roughly

“A demisexual is a person who does not experience sexual attraction unless they form a strong emotional connection with someone. It's more commonly seen in but by no means confined to romantic relationships. The term demisexual comes from the orientation being "halfway between" sexual and asexual.” (thank you Wikipeidia)

So great. Just fucking great. I’m bisexual so not properly gay or straight. And I’m demi sexual not properly asexual either.

All of this is a struggle. I’m really scared to put this out there. Because how do you date like this? Who wants the half and half. I feel like damaged goods. And I don’t feel proud. I feel broken. I couldn’t be properly gay, I couldn’t be properly either asexual or just normal. I feel like the thing nobody will want. How do you date like that? Who will want you?

These are questions I have to ask myself, as I approach new labels I'm not sure I'm comfortable with. That I'm not sure I'm proud of yet. I know I'm not. I still feel wrong, weird. Broken. For someone who never felt that way about being Bi, that's a new feeling. 

It feels a bit like (bear with and don't attack) when I was diagnosed with the chronic illness I have: it explained so much but didn't immediatly make it easier to live with. But in time, I adjust, and I understand my body, my illness. As eventually I'll understand this. 

And as I spiral towards my 5th midlife crisis I  still wonder….does this mean I’ll never have anyone?

And how in Pride Month do you be proud of that? Ending up a bunch of things you sure as hell didn’t ask for and can’t change. But that nobody else will want either.

Which brings me to my conclusion: What flag do I get to wave?

Well frankly the Rainbow one. Because that Rainbow flag stands for inclusion.  And I will stand there in Pride month and wave my Rainbow flag. Because I might still find it hard. But others find it harder.

The best piece of advice I heard as a young gay (ish) was from Russell T Davies who said ‘You never stop coming out’ and you don’t. I’m not obligated to discuss my sexuality with everyone, but I shouldn’t have to hide it.

Now regular people don’t need to know all my labels and sub labels. All they need to know is I belong under that Rainbow flag. And that if I want I can wave my Bisexual flag too, and an asexual one.

I don’t need all the labels at once. Nobody else certainly does. But I am proud to wave my flag.



A lot of this video was inspired by Youtuber Evan Edinger and these two videos, I don't share the exact same experiences and thoughts but his thoughts led me to write this post so here are the videos:  

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Welcome to the Academic Outcasts Party

Not a political party. I'm just over here throwing a party for us lot who have for whatever reason found ourselves outside of academia by design or default. I'm writing this in part because I discovered it was 2 years since I handed in the final bound copy of the thesis.

First for anyone not familiar it was a long, difficult road. Not least the corrections period. I had a very finicky external examiner who was convinced any typo that slipped through mine and  4 proof reader's radar's was a personal affront to him. However it got there, it got handed in. And I didn't throw it at anyone in the process.

At the time I still considered academia an option. I wasn't as entirely sold on the idea as I had been, but putting that down to well, doing a PhD and getting to the end. Failing to secure an academic post (surprise surprise for someone who started in 2010 just when the impact of the 2008 financial crash was starting to seep in and the long established cracks in the academic machine starting to show). But let's face it I never stood a chance.

I had a terrible PhD experience. I was convinced to take up a PhD at my institution by someone whose motives I now question. An older man who seems to enjoy holding power over younger women. In moves I can retrospectively see more clearly, existing issues were blown up bigger so that he could come in and 'rescue' the situation. A troubling mix from the stark.

But as a first generation University attendee, never mind PhD, I had no real steer other than what I bumbled through myself. I took the option I had despite not being a great fit for my subject, because it offered employment and a chance to live at home. 4 hard years followed. Some of the difficulties were simply beyond any one's control- reshuffles in the University, people leaving posts the usual upheaval. Other issues were more personal, like the PhD supervisors who first hated each other, playing me off in their own power games, then in turn me. It was by the end an unmitigated disaster.

But I loved my research. I loved teaching more than anything and I even still had faith in HE and what in the right hands it could do. And I loved my work. It was a passion project from the start. Still is.

Months of part time temporary work had followed the viva in student support. I loved that job. I loved working hands on with students and making a difference. But it's not a job you can make a living in- how ridiculous but like most caring roles the government and Universities don't see it fit to spend money on. And so I took a job in Research Development. Another Alt- Ac route. And having come from academic admin before the PhD I wasn't snobbish like some PhDs can be about that work. I know how important support roles in Universities are, and still do. However...

If I had to re-live the last hellish year of PhD or that year in development, I'd choose the PhD every time. To quote one of my PhD texts 'That's how bad'. I was, on the whole extremely valued by my academic colleagues, and well supported. However the team I was placed in either had a natural dislike for academics in general (worrying choice of career if so) or just me personally. It was hellish, and frustrating. And also felt a bit like peering over the fence watching the other kids play. Being a part of academic just not really.

And of course the fixed term contract wasn't renewed. Except it was. Just 5 months after I left, and at half the time (and money). And of course nobody I worked with bothered to tell me. I found out from Facebook, that my old job was now available again. To quote my Mother at the time 'Wow they really don't like you do they'. It seems not.

By this time I'd taken another job, which I'm still a temp in but still in. It's a step down in status, and in money. It's not a job that I am particularly good at (this isn't anything I don't freely admit in work) and it's not one I intended to stay in for long (again, employers and colleagues well aware, the temp arrangement suiting everyone currently). It is adjacent to the work I'd like to be doing.

But above all even in the hellish Alt-Ac job, and now there's a sense of freedom. It scares me that yes it's been 2 years since I did any 'real' academic work. But I've done so much else. Because I had freedom to.

A year ago I turned down an academic job interview. One of the few I'd ever been granted. Truth be told I was simply breaking down and couldn't face it. But I also gave myself a year to try other things. To see where things take me.

Now truth be told they haven't taken me that far yet. I'm still in a job I'm not thrilled with. I'm not entierly sure what kind of job is even on the horizon for someone like me. But I've done so much else. I've written plays and had them performed. I've written reviews and articles and loved it. I've got to fufil a dream and be a part of the National Theatre's production of Angels in America.

And I've got to live my life. I got to enjoy the last two years my lovely dog was with us, and go for walks. I get to soon (hopefully) adopt a new doggy and enjoy them. I see friends,I've made so many new friends.  I go to the theatre. I have time.

Now don't get this wrong. I work damn hard. I got to work full time and 4 nights a week and a weekend day I spend working on something. I take time off work to do other work. I'm forever chasing my tail.  It's exhausting. But underneath it all I feel like I'm chasing passions again. And yes there are days it feels hopeless and it'll never happen even if I knew what it was. Which I don't. But to quote Tony Kushner there is an ethical obligation to hope. And so I do.

Finally it feels like I've finally stopped. After years of fighting. I just stopped. And it's scary when a thousand academic voices are shouting at you from the void that you must never stop. Yet I did. And nobody died.

My book will get written. I will attend a conference or two if I feel like it. I'll find another job. I always do. Meanwhile there are other passions to chase. There are new adventures to be had. My PhD got me to this point and I'm grateful to it. In one respect it gave me the guts and yes the cheek, after everything I went through to put myself out there. We grew up together, but we've now grown apart.

There's a song I listen to whenever I need calming down- which is frequently- from Groundhog Day the musical. Called 'Seeing You' and it's about when Phil finally realises what he has in front of him. And it always reminds me of stopping this endless chase.

"I used to think the only way to better days was through tommrorow"

And when he says;

"And I'm here. And I'm fine"

I think, you know what Phil, so am I. I'm an academic outcast. And I'm here. And I'm fine.