How I am Dealing With Being a Low-Key Social Outcast
Lately, I’ve been feeling cynical about finding local community.
Every time I am at a community event, I feel a sense of alienation, knowing that I could never truly be welcome because of my gender-critical views.
It doesn’t even require everyone to be against me.
All it takes is one person in that space framing me as an unsafe person, and then everyone else has to quietly (or loudly) outcast me to save their own reputation.
While most of us get by through simply hiding who we really are, I gave up the luxury of hiding when I decided to go public about my views. And, I am also not interested in hiding or being inauthentic-it’s not how I wish to live my life.
Does that mean I deserve to be an outcast?
Most people who claim to welcome controversial opinions and disagreements, usually have a very specific framework of which “controversies” they find acceptable, and I can usually bet my bottom dollar that critiques on gender ideology don’t fit in.
It’s very disingenuous to claim that you embrace people regardless of their viewpoint. I certainly don’t. Nobody in their right mind would embrace someone who carries an opinion they find to be morally reprehensible or personally offensive.
And therein lies the issue, when lobbyists have successfully shifted public opinion to view common sense as hatred and shut down any critical thinking on the matter.
Moreover, the ideas people label as controversial tend not to be the least bit controversial at all. They might be fringe opinions that get you strange looks, but they are not the sort that will outcast you from community spaces that claim to be designed for people like you, nor will they reliably and consistently lock you out of the workforce or other opportunities you deserve.
Many people love the idea of going against the system but they do not understand the true extent of what it means, or they’ve been sold a fabrication of what it looks like.
In real life, you’re not cool for going against the grain. You’re the kid sitting alone in the cafeteria while navigating a small, yet powerful group of bullies who are intent on sabotaging your daily life, and spreading rumors about how disgusting you are, while everyone else either follows along or keeps their distance from you in order to not attract said bullies’ wrath.
Cool points are only applied in retrospect, sometimes posthumously.
Anyway, I have been thinking about what this means as far as my social life. Because I’ve realized that it’s exceedingly difficult for me to trust people I meet in the wild, and publishing my anthology has changed how I engage with new connections.