“Break My Soul” and My Pride

Beyonce’s song ,” Break my Soul” dropped on me like a wake up smack this morning. I got my whole life hearing the heavy house themes and Mrs. Queen Bey and Big Freedia. It activated every juicy Queer bone in me and made me echo a ” Yass” out loud. It took me back to my teenage years and exploring my then Gay identity. A big part of that was my discovery of House and Deep House music and the many Queer artists who dominated the genre. Specifically the Black Queers, the Mothers and Fathers who gave life to their gay and straight brethren with the spirit of sauce and sass and bass and resistance. I lived for it. From Everybody, Everybody, Mr. Frankie Knuckles ” Tears” and the Whistle song. The hits by Ms. CeCe Peniston, Robin S, Sylvester, Junior Vasquez and more. I kept them songs downloaded on my Ipod during my forays into the Village. It was almost like I was time traveling in my ears prowling the places my Gay and trans ancestors made themselves their fiercest selves and these songs immortal in the present time.

It has always been bigger than music. Hearing that song today made me acknowledge the absence of Gay and trans people in my life. If I’m being real , I’m estranged as fuck from my community. And I have always been. I swear that this isn’t intentional as much as it’s circumstantial and situational and the formula for bonding just didn’t always fall in my lap when it came time to connect with my Queer people. There’s always esoteric aspects of cultures and in the cases of marginalized people there is layers and layers of things intrinsic to the experience. It is easy to fall through the cracks of connection if you lack the talk, the walk , the look. If you are without that year book and ignorant to events and the who’s who and literal words, you can easily be left out the loop. And I am one of those kinds of community members. Common in this NYC area is the association of Black and Latino Gays and Trans people being associated with houses and Mothers and Fathers. By extension, is a whole other cast of people who become associates. It becomes a everybody kinda knows everybody deal except when it ain’t. I never found my Gay family. Never had a Gay mother or Father. I don’t consider it a loss as much as I just wonder if I had had those kinds of elements in my life, how would that influence the woman that I am today? I bet I wouldn’t have these feelings of estrangement of acknowledging I’m trans but also sometimes not feeling “trans enough”.

None of this is helped by my introvert inclinations and the Pandemic was a doozy. So Ima show myself a little grace and for this Pride month and going forward Ima try to connect more with my people especially my Black trans women. I am fortunate to live in the NYC area home to at least 20 million bazillion Queers of all kinds. I’ve really no excuse besides my own anxieties , my own shames , my own bullshit wiring that makes it too convenient to run from myself and my people at times. Happy Pride to all and may we all take a page from Bey and never let them Break our soul!!!!

Note: I use Queer as an encompassing term for the LGBT + community .

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