I had an absolutely WILD #TransGEM today.
I was walking to the drugstore to pick up some prescriptions. Nice warm sunny day, I'm wearing a tank top and men's gym shorts and my crossbody bag. Listening to my new favorite queer indie songwriter. His genre choices are eclectic, but YouTube calls his work "Midwestern emo." Haven't been much of an emo fan before, but I like this guy and want to support his work. And his lyrics really speak to me. (1/)
In the middle of one of his better songs
(https://youtu.be/vY9y91ffpTU),
it hits me that if I had been a boy in high school, this is what I would have worn and the kind of music I'd have listened to.
And then I got to the drugstore and Mr. Brightside started playing over the PA and I thought "man, I'm glad I have access to the queer version of this genre."
There's something beautiful about listening to melancholy, brooding music in direct contrast to warm sunlight and a serene breeze. It feels like a tiny gumball of angst at the heart of a brightly colored giant jawbreaker.
This is nothing new. It's not even the first time I've had that feeling. What this is is the first time I've had that feeling and not thought there was something wrong with it. Or with me.
Since the last time I tried listening to this kind of music, I've learned to respect my sadness, to give it space, and to associate that space with music.
The darkness on the inside is no more or less real than the sunshine on the outside, and they can coexist without contradiction. That's a thing boy-me might not have picked up on listening to Green Day in high school.
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