Hi! I’m Jacob, and this is Fslur.
You may know that I don’t like to label myself. Labels often convey widely-accepted definitions, and those definitions are often derived from the thought structures of hetero-patriarchy. Labels take away our control over our own identities, sorting us into neat categories. If I say that I’m gay, you don’t need to know more. You know what gay means. If it’s not the right fit for me, oh well. It’s close enough, right?
And what does gay mean? Sexually or romantically attracted to one’s own sex? Same-gender-loving? Homosexual? Men who have sex with men? Blurgh.
These definitions too centrally concern sex and gender, as well as sexual or romantic attraction, and limit me to a narrow deviation from the implied default, the often-unlabeled heterosexual, the so-called straight. These definitions fail to account for so many degrees of difference.
I’m mostly attracted to men, but not in the same way as straight-identifying women, nor in the same way straight-identifying men are attracted to women. I process gender differently from one who comfortably accepts hetero-patriarchal definitions. I navigate our social structures differently from one who comfortably identifies as straight. I’m far from unique in this, and I’m grateful to have grown up with the rise of queer.
Queer is tough for so-called straights. It’s been reclaimed from decades of abuse as a nasty way to other anyone who dared to toe the line of the hetero-patriarchal order. The meaning of the word hasn’t changed, it’s just that we enjoy more license to reject that order and embrace the othering. Queer defies definition. Queer reveals nothing about directions of attraction and complications of gender. Queer allows for many degrees of difference. Queer is a middle finger to neat categories.
I like queer. I’m not just attracted to men, loving men and having sex with men. I’m more complicated. Aren’t we all? I want to live in a world where we’re all queer. For now, I’ll settle for writing into that world. Meanwhile, I don’t want to get complacent. I want to better understand how queerness shapes my identity and shows up in the world. I want to consider other labels and challenge definitions of hetero-patriarchy.
That brings me to the fslur.
I heard the fslur a lot growing up. Guys called me faggot as they pushed past me in the hall, as I stood to present in class, or just to refer to me generally. They were often trying to be funny or flex for their friends. But I also heard it one-on-one, often with some physical threat, sometimes more intimate. It came quicker in gendered spaces, and almost always from guys (if any ladies remember calling me a fag, or wanting to, please let me know).
While mostly harmless, the fslur marked me out as separate from the hetero-patriarchal standards of the so-called straight male identity. This was done with hostility, and as a teenager, the experience of being so othered felt devastating. Luckily, it made me think hard about my place in the social structures around me, and led me to accept the othering gladly, as I do today. This informs my preference for the label queer.
Is this a good spot to shout out the guy at work who told me that identifying myself as queer made him uncomfortable? So sad for him. Maybe he’d be more comfortable if I identified as a fag?
Thank you for reading Fslur. Through this space, I’ll seek to complicate my queerness, and yours. I’ll look at myself and men in the real and fictional worlds around me to examine the possibilities of queerness. I’m not too precious — these are rough drafts, and I’m open to mistakes, messy ideas and changing my mind. But I trust that this endeavor will prove worthwhile.
Thanks for reading! Do you have thoughts? Do you know someone else who might? Please pass me around, and don’t hesitate to hit me up with comments, questions and fresh ideas. Catch you next time!
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We’re here! We’re queer! 🗣️ what a lame coworker! your presence and queerness made me feel more comfortable at work!