I wouldn’t necessarily mind people not knowing I’m gay, but I don’t like being thought of as straight — in the same way that I don’t mind people not knowing I’m a writer, but it would be awkward if they assumed I was an extreme skateboarder, because that’s so far removed from the reality of my life. But there is no blank slate where orientation is concerned; we are straight until proven otherwise. And if you’ve never seen how dramatically a conversation can be derailed by a casual admission of homosexuality, let me tell you, it gets awkward.
My Life as an Invisible Queer - Cosmopolitan (via feministlibrarian)
This speaks to me so much, and is probably the most important part, but let me tell you, I like this bit more:
What would be great, I think, is if I could hire some kind of old-timey town crier to precede me into any room I enter, shouting “Lesbian coming! Lesbian coming this way!” and possibly ringing some kind of bell. Then everyone would already know before our interaction commenced, and they could be pleasant or horrible as the spirit moved them, but at least we’d be communicating from a place of honesty and I wouldn’t have to worry about whether I’ll inadvertently reveal myself.
Fat women are expected to dress in ways that are ostensibly minimizing but that, in reality, are really about us occupying less visual real estate. No bold colors, no stripes, nothing that would ever make us look bigger. It’s not that some of those rules are genuinely about looking slimmer – it’s that we draw less attention to ourselves when we comply with fashion rules. We occupy less space, metaphorically if not physically. We minimize ourselves for the comfort of other people.