Ya kid I’m sorry but you don’t get to take the high road after using a chatgpt quote to take a cheap shot ad hominem during a discussion.
Your continual implications that I must be a repressed homosexual if I’m not into sucking every last drop of semen from a trans woman’s nut sac because she identifies as a woman and I’m an ally is …. wait for it… binary thinking.
That’s not exactly my implication. Not every homophobe is a closet case. My dad was SUPER concerned with always projecting masculinity and never doing anything that might appear effeminate (for a very broad definition) or especially not gay. I knew my dad was a fragile bigot, and I tried hard to reject his racism and shit. But I didn’t understand about sexuality. I didn’t understand that when he called me a “foo-fee”, he was attacking my sexuality. And a lot of that shit got into me. I too was super concerned with knowing where the line between gay and not gay is.
But I got better.
It’s hard to be confronted with your past self embodied in someone else. On one hand, there is still the residual shame of appearing gay. But on the other hand, there is the fierce shame of having cared about that bullshit for so long.
Just let it go.
Ha ha, I just realized. Maybe I was a closet case after all?
Ya kid I’m sorry but you don’t get to take the high road after using a chatgpt quote to take a cheap shot ad hominem during a discussion.
Your continual implications that I must be a repressed homosexual if I’m not into sucking every last drop of semen from a trans woman’s nut sac because she identifies as a woman and I’m an ally is …. wait for it… binary thinking.
That’s not exactly my implication. Not every homophobe is a closet case. My dad was SUPER concerned with always projecting masculinity and never doing anything that might appear effeminate (for a very broad definition) or especially not gay. I knew my dad was a fragile bigot, and I tried hard to reject his racism and shit. But I didn’t understand about sexuality. I didn’t understand that when he called me a “foo-fee”, he was attacking my sexuality. And a lot of that shit got into me. I too was super concerned with knowing where the line between gay and not gay is.
But I got better.
It’s hard to be confronted with your past self embodied in someone else. On one hand, there is still the residual shame of appearing gay. But on the other hand, there is the fierce shame of having cared about that bullshit for so long.
Just let it go.
Ha ha, I just realized. Maybe I was a closet case after all?