many of the people in my life aren’t surprised by this, but for those who haven’t been keeping up with me too well — *SURPRISE* — this is me, coming out as a baby drag king.

everyone, meet Brother Daniel. 

i wanted to share some segments of my story because, to be frank (and curse a little), being around the gender-fuckery that i’m now around on a regular basis has saved my life, given me freedom, introduced me to the best people i know, and more importantly, taught me more about life and people than i think most people learn in a lifetime.

i also wanted to share some segments of my story because over the last few days, i’ve seen so much ugliness in the world that surrounds me and my friends. i like to pretend we all exist in this perfect queer bubble where it’s all only love, but when that ugliness seeps in, it seeps in HARD.

so, here goes. i went to my first drag show about three years ago — it was for a school assignment, actually, i brought some friends and took a night out to go to Attitudes Nightclub for the first time. and i LOVED it. i distinctly remember my friend leaning over to me and expressing confusion because he couldn’t figure out if he was struggling with his sexuality or not, and i felt the same (i still thought i was straight at the time), and i was elated to be living in this tension and confusion, and to see people absolutely owning the stage and facing down every societal norm in the process, i felt almost euphoric. hypnotized.

you see, (and if you know me, this isn’t news at all) i’ve been saying for as long as i can remember that i’m not good at being a girl.

or i’m not good at being a cute girl.

i’m not good at being a straight girl.

i’m not too good at being a girl.

coming out as queer allowed me to understand my womanhood, and to accept that while i do own parts of my womanhood, i don’t have very much (any) femininity about me.

i finally stopped trying to dress like a cute straight girl, chopped off all my hair, and stopped trying to wear women’s shirts (thank the LORD).

(enter coming-out-affair, exit coming out affair, moved away, moved back, etc)

so, a few months ago, a friend asked me to come to a newcomer night at a bar near my new apartment. the more times i retell it, the more simplistic my revelation here gets, but basically, i watched everyone on stage and it was your basic “wait, i can do that?!”

cool. as with most of my bigger decisions, i dove in headfirst (and arguably way too soon). i drew on some stupid eyeliner facial hair, learned contouring in about an hour, and picked out two numbers for the next week’s show.

i’ll spare everyone the dirty details of the following months, but here we are now. i get to moonlight as a dude, my contour and facial hair has significantly improved (thanks to eyebrow pomade and a great drag family), and most importantly, i get to live in the world that enthralled me so much while i hung out in the closet all those years ago.

i’ve learned more about gender and expression in these months than ever in my life — and it’s been like taking a long run in the woods. exhilarating, a little cold, the air kinda hurts your face, but suddenly you know what it’s like to breathe, even when you can’t breathe it’s better than any breath you’ve ever taken.

i was able to put terms to how i felt about my body for the first time in forever — and able to see myself in a light that transcended the gender ideas that i’d grown up with, the ideas that told me i had to fit into a box i never chose and never felt comfortable in.

enter Dani finally learning how to create a body aesthetic they like, regularly rocking dress shirts and killer suspenders, finally styling their hair how they want, and getting to dance around onstage a few times a month.

enter Dani realizing that she/her pronouns work sometimes, but not always. that he/him pronouns also work sometimes. that they/them pronouns also work.

being genderfluid/gendernonconforming, accepting that about myself, drowning out the comments i’ve received since i started trying to look the way i want to, and finally having this life that looks mostly how i want it to, has been an insane trip. sometimes i think it started three years ago, sometimes i think it starts over every time i see my friends rocking heels better than i ever could, sometimes i think it starts over every day when i wake up.

i’ll give credit where it’s due — local drag changed my life. it’s crazy how i’ve been in this world for almost six months and every time i see a performance, give a tip, see one of my friends going all out for one thing or another, i have this huge stupid grin on my face that i can’t ever try to play off as cool. i’m exhilarated. i’m in awe. for so many of the performers i know and love, every time they step on stage it’s like another panel of the wall of gender norms being torn down, another layer of expectation being chipped away, and it’s so bold and so pure that you can see it in a performer’s face most of the time, see it in every meticulously applied eyelash and every contoured cheekbone, every carefully fastened bow tie, every rhinestone or stud that we definitely spent hours applying.

we get to break gender norms and set the stage ourselves. and that’s the most powerful thing in the world to me.

and even more, the humans that live day to day busting down gender norms in their everyday lives, away from the stage lights — it sets off in me this feeling of awestruck wonder at how people can be so beautiful, so wonderful, and so fiercely themselves. it’s always been so beautiful to me.

and now there’s more pressure to force adherence to these norms. lives are at stake. and here we are, feeling the administration pressing down on our queer bubble, making it harder and harder to breathe when some of us just grew lungs that worked.

it feels like my heart is breaking constantly. i know people who have fought unbelievably hard battles daily, moment by moment for their identity to be known and seen, people who have had to go in and out of the closet for their own safety, people who are finally feeling like themselves.

people like me.

but the thing i know most unswervingly about these people is that we’re all very used to the fight. we’ve been doing it every day, and it’s grueling and hellish and we hate it, but it doesn’t mean we’ll stop.

we’re armed, we’re prepared, we’re goddamn exhausted but we’ll never stop fighting. not just for ourselves, but for each other. and that’s the beauty of all the humans under the umbrella of the transgender spectrum. we know the battle, and we know that every identity is real, and we will always rise up for one another.

y’all, i love you. i love you so much. you’ve saved my life. and i’ll keep fighting for yours.

sincerely,
your friendly neighborhood drag king/genderfluid queerdo/affectionately nerdy introvert.