I know that look…I have and had seen it many times before. When I returned home from receiving that “Look” my partner knew of which I spoke. She had seen that ‘Look’ before too!
Let me describe for you the ‘Look’ and perhaps, some of you will know what I’m talking about, as well.
Description of the ‘Look’
The facial expression is never any different whether it is on a woman or a man! It is a scowl coupled with a hatred born from ages of tyranny. The disdain and repulsiveness is not from the scowl but from the eyes! Again, it is never any different whether it is from a man or a woman. The eyes, be them blue, green, hazel or brown, become black slits. Almost invisible to those of us without twenty twenty vision. Yet, none of ‘Us’ really need to look these people in the eye because we can sense the ‘Presence’.
The ‘Presence’ is remarkable in that it only carries one tone; vanity mixed with ignorance lacking charity.
What happens when you turn your back on the ‘Look’ that denotes a ‘Presence’ of popular majority? I can only describe the ‘Feeling’ which is aroused!
The ‘Feeling’ retreats way back into the archives of my younger years. A sense of sadness. A notion of not being good enough, ridiculed, scared and more importantly, alone!
The ‘Question’ is always what follows the memories of ‘Feeling’ a ‘Presence’ of a ‘Look’ that I’ve known for so many years:
Why was I born this way? Why don’t people like me? How come I feel so different? And, for those of us older than Rainbow flags and Pride Parades, who can I talk to?
Let’s face it, I’m gay. Many other out there are, as well. We don’t want to walk into a church, a store, a job interview, a business meeting, with our ‘Pride’ on our sleeves. We do want to walk on our city streets, into our town hall meetings, our Earth Day celebrations, without the ‘Look’.
The ‘Look’ that has caused 1 in 3 homosexuals to take their own lives. The ‘Look’ that won’t allow us to openly care for each other. The ‘Look’ that claims we are deviants to society though, most crimes are committed by middle class, heterosexuals white males.
If I were granted just one wish it would be simple:
To never feel reduced, hated, sad, misplaced and unwanted by the ‘Look’ ever again!
I had lost a female friend (catholic.) She had been assumed to be in a lesbian relationship. She drove to Conneticut and never returned. Her partner, appeared, distraught. Disturbed with how she had been presented by the church. Odd,
in the folk group we all sang in…to see Dawn dismissed as though, she had been a stick figure on a chalkboard. ‘How could Dawn leave without any real reason for leaving? Persecution for her beliefs? My young heart never understood or knew for sure.
Dawn remains a missing person. The police called it…a mental health issue. The church dismissed it all. As if Dawn never occurred. Her lover moved on full knowing that…lesbians do not have an account. That women who love women are just something to be disregarded. @randomwordbyruth
Melissa Fadul lives in New York with her wife, dog and two rabbits. She teaches English Literature and Advanced Placement Psychology. She loves animals, poetry, and film and photography and baseball and screenwriting. Melissa is currently writing her second poetry manuscript and a screenplay. Melissa hopes that someday she can work with her favorite actresses: Naomi Watts, Rachel Weisz, Cate Blanchett and Mariska Hargitay.
Is the Die Really Cast?
I was a sophomore and part of GLU (the gay and lesbian union as it was called then) getting my undergraduate degree in New York and two years younger than twenty-one-year-old Matthew Shepard, when barbed wire pierced his wrists as he was pinned to a fence on a chilly October evening. After his assailants, Aaron McKinney and Russell Henderson thumped his skull, dented it, they stole his shoes and wallet before running him over in a pick-up truck— leaving him for…
View original post 978 more words
Tell her today
the mist fades into the fading enchanted forest.
fauna has turned to fallen rust.
Tell her today
the slight brush of her hand on yours feels thin and threadbare.
Today holds her…as though no other moment will.
Tell her today
about all events that made you stand still.
all is the same
but everything has changed
a lost traveler, lucid
nonetheless growing old
i have an opinion,
never do as the sold are told
Such a trampoline of sandy, ill begotten, virtues, bounce up to greet my gritty feet.
And, it is a long road to greet…the others!
The others…like me.
So…I trade mountains for the buttery aroma of all the half shells along north beach.
Just scantily clad friends in need of retreat.
There is no need to beware of differences…between pride or right or wrong.
The Queens and bears and otters who came before me allow for no spite.
Within the dunes, no titles, labels or names.
As the sun also sets…we are all the same.