Friday Whatever: Fighting

Set up my Gmail account to send some emails if I die, but let me just say it here too:

I don’t regret fighting nazis.

I don’t regret fighting nazis.

I don’t fucking regret fighting nazis, no matter what happens.

I’ve had the privilege of living a life in which dying prematurely was an abstract concept. I’ve had the privilege of living a life in which dying because of who I am or simply because I’m out in public was an abstract concept. Yes, I’m queer. Yes, I’m a woman. But I always had a foundation of whiteness to stand on and I think when it’s always there it’s hard to even realize how much safer that foundation keeps you than other people. I don’t LOOK gay and I DO look white. And therefore I’ve been safe.

But safety is over. I willingly forsake it, as I should have long, long ago. I accept the consequences. I’m not interested in dying. I’d really like to avoid it. But I accept that it could happen. They fight with guns; we fight with words.

I know what it’s like to fight as a woman, to feel scared as a woman, to feel misunderstood as a queer person, to feel threatened. But I think we’re entering truly different times, times when standing idly by is unconscionable and when getting involved has very real consequences you have to be prepared to accept.

I accept. I’m scared as hell, but I accept.

I don’t think things are going to be ok. I honestly don’t. I would love to be proven wrong. But every fact I can find points toward things being extremely not ok. Faced with that, I can think of nothing to do but fight back and I can think of nothing more shameful than burying my head completely. We all have different strengths and different tolerances. But none of us have zero value, none of us have¬†nothing to give.

I fell asleep with a headache last night, tossed and turned and napped, and woke up to cry. My body hurts everywhere. I don’t know where I’ll find the energy or the strength, but there have been so many before me – stronger, braver, smarter, more resilient – who have found the energy and strength for more for longer. So I’ll dig it out of somewhere too. It feels like the very least I can do.

I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, all in like this. I should have been. Rallies for Planned Parenthood and fundraisers for queer organizations and arguing with my relatives wasn’t enough. I failed. I’m sorry and I’m here now. And one last time for the nosebleeds:


You can tattoo that on my fucking forehead when I’m gone. But then please make me a tree or something because funerals are stupid.


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