editorial: me, myself, and my queerness.
Patrick McNaughton is the creator of dandyqueerart.com,
identifies as non-binary (genderfluid), is attracted to masculine presenting partners,
and does not have a pronoun preference (he/they/she).
I think I didn't publish a letter from the editor when the magazine launched because I was afraid to. Like any creative person, when I make something and put it out into the world, I want everyone to love it (or hate it with an aggressive and passionate fire), but I seemed to be having a hard time connecting myself to the project as a personality. I didn't want the site's success or failure to depend on how much people liked me as a person.
Having a platform to show everyone the beauty i see in many queer artists' delightful, profound, and sexy work is an enormous opportunity, one I desperately don't want to fuck up.
After developing more and more content over the past month, I've come to realize what an inevitable part of the identity of this project my voice truly is. Though most of the attention deservedly goes to the artists whose work I am promoting, it is still my responsibility to keep dandy's audience engaged, and I've developed a strong sense of pride in that. I am just getting started with all the fantastic (though occasionally completely unrealistic) shit I want to do, but I'm finally able to admit that I'm pretty fucking proud of myself for what I've accomplished so far.
Less than six months ago my life was a shit show. I had no job, no sense of direction, and was self-medicating with alcohol to escape my recurring suicidal ideations. My husband had me thrown out of my home by the police to rid himself of the burden of my alcoholism and to gain leverage in settling our divorce. I left all my belongings (and my two adorable puppies) behind and moved into my father 's apartment in the shitty town that I grew up in and thought I had clawed my way out of two decades ago. I was broken.
When I tell people I am on the tail end of finalizing my divorce, most tend to say "I'm so sorry," but I'm slowly discovering that it's actually the best thing that's ever happened to me. I was living a lie. I knew deep down what I wanted out of life and what would make me happy, but I'd allowed myself to be convinced there was something wrong with it, that somehow I shouldn't trust myself to decide what was best for me. I was suppressing the things that made me who I was in order to fit into someone else's idea of happiness and success.
I see that now, but like most drunks, I had to learn it the hard way.
I am 132 days sober as of writing this, and though the process has been confronting and ugly, I've never felt happier in my entire life. I can lust after strangers' cocks, think organized religion is abhorrent, use gratuitous profanity in public, and still be a good person. I have embraced my queerness, and through this project, I'm inviting you to embrace yours.
So what does it mean to embrace being "queer"?
I recently had a brief conversation with an artist about a potential feature in dandy. They seemed completely put off by the fact that I suggested that who they want to "fuck" should play any part in how their work is shown. Though being labelled as a queer by society has largely to do with my "alternative" sexuality, identifying as one has little, if anything, to do with who I want to fuck.
I get it. "Queer" is just a label intended to strip us of our unique identities, then lump us into a group of people we have almost nothing in common with. It's obvious why a term like "queer community" is perceived by many (especially those who might be expected to embrace it) as oxymoronic. Being "queer" can mean so many different things to different people, where do we even begin to define it?
Quite simply, identifying as queer is merely about embracing one's own "otherness." It is an identity one must evolve to accept. Being queer is inclusivity for the excluded. It is the ability to say "We may have little in common, but I see you have no table to sit at, so how about you come sit at mine."
So how do we strengthen a sense of community among those who lack commonality? We lead by example and accept and promote our differences, and we include anybody who wants to be included.
What makes us most different from those who might identify as "normal," or "straight," is what makes us most beautiful. It is only through queerness that we can show how productive, progressive, and ultimately how joyful acceptance and inclusion can be. In realizing this, I have come to believe that embracing queerness is truly the next logical step toward creating a better, more loving humanity.
So after obsessing a bit on the matter, I would say to that artist: I honestly don't care who you want to fuck (unless, of course, it's me), embrace your otherness and try to find some commonality with your fellow "othered" humans. Embrace it, be proud of it, and show it off. The more of us there are, the less "queerness" becomes, well- queer. The less the label elicits shame, the more it reflects a celebration of diversity.
I am proud of the path that I'm on now. I can finally trust that my instincts are valid, my own measure of success is the only one that matters, I have enough, I am enough, and the distinct pleasure i find in staring at artistic pictures of gorgeous man-ass all day suits me just fine. Despite how it may look or sound to anyone else, my life is going quite well. For once it feels entirely my own. For once, I am embracing my queerness. For once, I'm finally in a comfortable place, where I can look at my fellow human beings and say, "We may have little in common, but I see you have no table to sit at, so how about you come sit at mine."
