Queer Twitter

when you have to leave them behind

when you have to leave them behind

If you know me or have been reading along with me for a while, you already know a few things: there's this really long, complicated relationship that I've been in the process of sorting through and getting over, there's something about the intersections of the sacred and secular that really speak to me, and there's something I always love about a good metaphor. You probably know a few more things too at this point, but those are the three I'm sticking with this time around.

Now, if you follow me on Twitter at all AND follow me on here, you might be a little jarred as you go back and forth, because apparently Twitter is where the sarcastically dry part of my personality resides, and around here is where the contemplative part of me lives. But something I read on Twitter the other day put me back in that reflective position, thinking about how sometimes we need to leave people behind as the absolute best choice we can make for them and for ourselves.

What got me thinking about all this was this tweet from Jonathan Martin I came across the other night.  The part that stood out to me goes like this:

Sometimes God is leading you to a place where other people who have been important in your life cannot follow.

reclaiming worship music for the queers

reclaiming worship music for the queers

If there's one common thread that's been running through this entire year of 2018, it has to be the fact that everything about this year feels incredibly different and new than any other and in a different way than any other, something I've already talked a little about

Something that's been a big part of this unfamiliarity is perhaps how I finally found my way back to church and how it's finally become something meaningful again. I write a lot about being queer, and if you follow me at all on Twitter, you'll notice that I tend to float around the queer, progressive, #exvangelical circles. Those places have provided me virtual community I've never been able to find before, and at the same time, I know that my faith is still an integral part of my life and who I am. And for all the ways and times I've been burned by Christians and the church, there's something deep inside of me that reminds me that isn't who God is. And so I'm still here. I still call myself a Christian, albeit hesitantly sometimes, just because I know of all the different connotations and pictures people will get in their head associated with that word. But if there's been anything about organized Christianity that's been particularly sticky for me (anti-queer theology and the like aside), it's worship music and the often problematic relationship Christians have with it.

love, the queers: finding community on queer twitter

love, the queers: finding community on queer twitter

Earlier this weekend, I called my friend Hannah on FaceTime after joyfully crying through episode 4 of Queer Eye (which EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHER should be watching on Netflix if you aren't already), and we went on to discuss and debrief on the episode before slinging jokes and talking about our hilariously conservative upbringings. This whole time, we're also throwing back glasses of wine and shots of cinnamon whiskey.

Last week, my friend Kevin called me as he was driving home from work (also to talk about Queer Eye), and we went on to dream about creating some kind of summer camp for the queers of the internet to all meet in real life someday, since everyone we know tends to be spread across the country. I think he also asked me if I was drunk at one point because of how much I was gushing about Queer Eye, and I had to tell him that I was actually sober and just that over the top.

I have so many little stories like this from the last several months, and Hannah and I were actually just texting about just how crazy it is that we became friends and how many other HELLA COOL people we've met over Twitter. Social media tends to get a bad rap these days, but for many of my queer friends and I, it's served to facilitate the formation of some really sweet community.