| Kate ( @ 2007-10-15 10:51:00 |
| Current mood: | |
| Entry tags: | fandom, meta |
Don't tell me who I am.
I found this essay by
kalpurna (which I think a lot of you will love) bizarrely alienating.
She says:
"It can be pretty damn hard to be a straight woman in fandom, according to my friends who are."
Which may or may not be true for you, I wouldn't know. I personally don't find it remotely difficult and never have, although I've seen this phenomena spoken of by a few people, who claim that a lot of girls in fandom are afraid to admit that they're straight; some even fake being bi in order to fit in.
But when I polled my flist a year ago, more than 50% of those who answered openly identify as straight. So is my flist somehow unusual or are you all just more comfortable admitting it to me and mine because *I'm* comfortably "out" as straight?
"Nobody who reads or writes slash isn't a little bit queer."
I'm not quite sure how a statement like that helps straight fen feel more comfortable in fandom. Essentially she's telling us that we don't know ourselves; that she knows us better; that there's no such thing as a heterosexual fangirl and if you think you are one, you're wrong.
I don't like being told what and who I am by other people. Especially other people who appear to only be able to see things from their own perspective. What about my perspective?
I'm straight. I write porn for women and read porn written by women and I enjoy it immensely. I have close female friends, both on and offline. We often talk about sex and porn. I've had sex with a woman. I didn't like it. I love women but they don't turn me on. I love porn. I love that my porn turns on women. I love that some of my straight male friends have read my (gay) porn and found it arousing. I'm open minded. I can't and won't claim to be queer because that would be a lie. I'm not you and you're not me.
Who are you?