Sunday, Sept. 26, 2021 - 3:16 pm.
This week was Bisexual Visibility Day (and Week) and I got busy with it. Not that I was swamped, but a I’d prepared a few comics about it, I was interviewed for a feminist news outlet in my home country (I was honoured!), reposted old my coming-out column (and other people did too!), and tweeted a few things. Not too bad.
I got more messages and notifications that day than I get on my birthday, but to be fair not a lot of people know when exactly my birthday is. And my social circle is very small. But I digress! It was truly a nice day, I hope my visibility and semi-spamming on bisexual issues can help someone.
Last year it seemed it was just me. Then Helen, my girlfriend, identified as bi, after struggling with the lesbian identity for a while. Then Andrew, my husband, came out this month last year. Our friend L came out to us a few months ago, and I learned that two of other Andrew’s female friends were also bi, and at least one came out during the pandemic. It’s amazing.
The cherry on top this week was attending an online bisexual research conference yesterday. So many studies, so much knowledge, and so much affirmation. It was worth waking up at 6 am, I was on fire all morning taking notes, and then exercising during a break.
On another front, Andrew and I had our last session with the psychologist for the adoption process. This time we talked about the characteristics we’d be able to handle. We’ve gone over this before. If it’s a child of rape or incest, with HIV, with cognitive impairment, with emotional or behavioural problems, with chronic issues or disability.
Aside from severe medical issues or disabilities or excessively disruptive behaviour, we’re very much open. It’s no use worrying about any of this right now, though. We don’t know who we’re getting.
Actually, the hardest question that the psychologist asked was: “What if the kid grows up and wants to be a cop or a soldier?”. Andrew and I went silent for a while. Unfortunately, that still falls under the category of “my child is their own person”.
She also asked if we’d consider a child from a different cultural background, say, indigenous or from immigrants. For starters, the child most likely will have a darker skin than ours. We’re fine with it, but she warned us that interracial adoption hasn’t happened here, and things could get ugly for us.
Last night I saw the news of an anti-immigrant march in a northern city. It was fuelled by hate and cruelty, these pathetic lowlifes took the belongings of immigrants who lived in a camp and set them on fire. I was raging and on the verge of tears.
Among the reports, I came across the photo of an immigrant child (thankfully it didn’t show her face), Black and about 3-years old. She’s standing with a little pink backpack on, watching the camp being dismantled.
I saw her and I got a knot in my throat. I thought “she could be my daughter”. I felt sure that I didn’t mind what our child looks like, but I genuinely feared for all the stupidity and prejudice they could encounter outside our home. Fuck those racist, xenophobic, fascist pieces of garbage.
Enough of this.
More exciting news this week: I signed up for a beginner’s course on Mapuche language. I’ve wanted to learn more about the original culture of the place I live in, so I figured speaking the language would be a great place to start.
That’s it for now. Lots of things happening, eh? But we still stay inside for the most part, and wear a mask when we go outside.