I’m 41, I’m in my first career for the second time, I picked up a PhD & traveled & did a gender transition & had lots of queer sex along the way. I won’t be able to earn equity or be on a mortgage for the next 7 years due to debt load from grad school.
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I survived 2 abusive intimate relationships, each about 5 years long. I have no plans for kids, no lifetime-track partner, & a wide swath of queer/trans friends. If generational wealth comes to me, it will be in the form of land in a place where it’s not safe for me to live.
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So yeah, the concept of queer time resonates for me. There’s no plotted-out trajectory, no “arrival” at adulthood. When I turned 40, I made a gift registry of all the housewares I wanted & wouldn’t ever get as wedding gifts, because fuck heteronormativity but I like Fiestaware.
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So now I have a modest set of Fiestaware and an orange KitchenAid, which I will deploy while hosting a crowd of assorted friends & community members for Transgiving on Saturday. There will be goose & all the trimmings & potluck contributions from everyone’s different traditions.
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And there’s no one to tell me that how I’m doing my life is wrong, because I have a job & pay my bills & give the rest to a community of queer/trans beloveds that capitalist cisheteropatriarchy has dropped on the floor.
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If I’m not liberated and financially secure enough to be able to make a grand holiday goose dinner for any queer/trans person who wants to show up and eat and find hospitality, what even is the point of being an adult? Queer time is the only time that makes any sense to me. /end
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OK to RT with your comment? Feels just over the line of too personal to do so w/o asking
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Fine with me.
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