OMG! I have sooooooo ordered the obscenely expensive cognac. For quite similar reasons. ;-)

Microaggressions are real. It’s hard to bear up under the combined weight of them sometimes. I’m stinging a little this morning as a matter of fact, and maybe I’m being overly sensitive, but I don’t know. I wrote a short story about two gay dads and their son.

I meant for it to be mildly funny, but also sensitive — a sort of heartfelt statement on love and parenting.

A friend of mine read it, immediately keyed in on one of the funny parts, and told me how hilarious gay men are in their vanity. I’m sure she didn’t mean it as an insult, but she was repeating a stereotype while ignoring the whole point of the story I wrote.

Black women have all sorts of skin tones. Lighter complexions should not be idealized as a standard of beauty. Complimenting you for being light skinned invalidates your blackness.

Gay men have all sorts of personalities. Complimenting us for being silly and funny invalidates us as three-dimensional people. I don’t even what to say to her. Honestly. How to start a difficult conversation. I guess it’s partly my fault. I included stereotypes in my story because I was making a statement about them. I thought I was being clear, but maybe I wasn’t. Grrrrrr.

Or maybe I’m just an overly sensitive artist. (Well, I am an overly sensitive artist, but not all the time.)

Maybe I’ll let her take me to dinner and make sure she pays big! lol

The story in question:

Written by

Writer. Runner. Marine. Airman. Former LGBTQ and HIV activist. Former ActUpNY and Queer Nation. Polyglot. Middle-aged, uppity faggot. jamesfinnwrites@gmail.com

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