One of my favorite moments from the past few years was when I attended an event that celebrated love within the Black LGBT community. I was just becoming comfortable with my sexuality and being in a positive environment of LGBT people was refreshing and inspiring. I wasn’t very sure of exactly what my sexual orientation was at that time—I just knew that I wasn’t quite ‘straight’—so I told people that I was queer. I remember sitting in the audience of that event and wondering, “Why is there no mention of Black people who identify as queer? What about people like me?”
A few years ago, identifying as a queer woman of color allowed me the space to explore, understand, and become comfortable with my sexuality, as I was still figuring out who I was. However, over time I became secure in my identity and more comfortable accepting that I have feelings for only women. At this point, ‘queer’ felt more like a cop-out. An important part of coming out, for me, was to not shy away from or be ambiguous about my sexual orientation.
For some, the word queer implies a sense of freedom. Writer Brandon Wint describes queer as:
“Not queer like gay. Queer like, escaping definition. Queer like some sort of fluidity and limitlessness at once. Queer like a freedom too strange to be conquered. Queer like the fearlessness to imagine what love can look like… and pursue it.”
Yet for me, once I finally came out and decided to live openly, the word queer implied bondage. By identifying as only queer I was attaching myself to the idea that I could still be attracted to men, an idea that was a lie. Only calling myself ‘queer’ enabled me to hang on to the possibility that I would someday marry a man, remain closeted, and live as a seemingly straight woman. I believe that when learning to accept your identity you have to be bold, courageous, and willing to do the internal work of chiseling down those mental barriers and walls you constructed in order to hide your true self. Identifying solely as queer allowed me to keep those walls up. I knew that if I wanted to truly move toward a place of self-acceptance and freedom I had to go further than just ‘queer’.
I appreciate that queer is a word to embrace and encompass identities that are outside the norm. For me, I understand queer to be a term that includes all of us on the LGBT spectrum and also holds space for those who choose not to conform to a particular label. Words are powerful, and when you identify as something you are announcing yourself to the universe. I believe that everyone has the right and freedom to choose the terms that work for them. I do consider myself to be a queer woman because I think that my identity falls under the general umbrella of queer, based on the concept that queer on a fundamental level refers to not being heterosexual and/or cisgender. I also appreciate ‘queer’ because it acknowledges that identities regarding sexuality and gender can shift, grow, evolve, and change, and are flexible. However, at the moment, for me it is extremely important that I do not identify solely as queer. I am queer, yes, but I am specifically a woman who loves other women. When I announce that to the universe I am overcoming the insecurity of my past, accepting who I was destined to be, and opening myself to receiving all the love that is out there for me.
