I'm a fag and I'm proud of it!

Honestly speaking, I am far from the manifesto as a genre, far from slogans, appeals, armored cars and all this revolutionary movement. They repeatedly tried to drag me into gay activism, but for various reasons it didn’t work out. This text has been brewing for me for a long time, but it still hasn’t turned into any specific form. I don’t know what became the trigger; perhaps there was a phase transition from the quantity of thoughts to the quality of letters. But, unlike my usual tedious reflective soul-searching, this time a manifesto came out from under my fingers.

I'm shocked! I'm not the first to raise this topic, but it was important for me to say it myself, which is exactly what I'm doing. The text turned out to be not very politically correct (sorry if it offended anyone), but as sincere as possible.

I'm a fag and I'm proud of it!

Hello! My name is Marcus and I am a fagot (faggot, faggot, homosexual - underline as appropriate). I have come a long and difficult path from the moment when even at night under the covers I could not admit to myself that I like men, to today, when I can quite calmly say: yes, I am a fag and I am proud of it! But I’m not proud of my orientation, that would be stupid: you can’t be proud of what is given by nature and what you cannot change in any way (even if you wanted to). And I’m proud that I can already say the phrase “I’m a fagot” out loud in front of living people, and not burn with shame or panic. Like pride in the context of gay pride, my pride is not about orientation, it is about the courage to declare it, it is about overcoming your strongest deepest fears. My pride is that, despite all the negative modalities of the word “fag,” I can say it out loud: yes, I’m a fag, and I don’t give a fuck what you think about it (actually I don’t, but that doesn’t matter).

*advertising is when people call themselves offensive and derogatory words, but without putting any offensive meaning into them

Does the word “faggot” hurt your ears? Would you like to hear a soft, neutral and tolerant “gay” or “homosexual”? And is there something wrong even with the word “homosexual”? You're right, I also want things to be different. But life is what it is, and nothing more. I didn't come up with this word. I didn’t decide that my innate attraction and love for the same sex was abnormal. And I didn’t come up with derogatory words and labels: fagot, faggot, homosexual, cocksucker.

By calling myself a “faggot,” I don’t want to humiliate or insult myself (if that were the case, then it would be a completely different pathology). Yes, I call myself a fagot, but only myself. I will never say this to a person, knowing that it may offend him. And - no, I will not let this word pass my ears if it flies at me with the intention of offending or hurting. And I certainly don’t encourage others to engage in such advertising* (yes, there’s even a special word for this), God forbid! This is just mine, personal, intimate. But right now I’m talking about it loudly and out loud.

Using the word “faggot” in my texts, I periodically receive attacks from sophisticated activists of the gay movement: “How can you! This is not what we and our fathers fought for! And for burying and forgetting this word forever!” New, in short, ethics. And I don't want to forget. And I’m already tired of explaining that it is impossible to offend a person with a word if: 1) there is no intention to offend and 2) there is no need to be offended. A word is just a bunch of letters: p-i-d-a-r-a-s. A person gives any meanings, modalities and connotations to a word. And the person also offends or is offended. The word itself cannot offend anyone, and if it can, then I have bad news for you. And when they start poking my nose at the word “homosexual”, assuring me that by using it, I got my feet stuck in the punitive psychiatry of the Soviet era, and now it is absolutely necessary to say the tolerant “homosexual”, I want to say one thing: go fuck yourself, homosexual! (well, or in the pussy, because fuck this is not a punishment). Speak and call yourself whatever you want, but leave this right to me too. That’s what I call myself and only myself, not you. I don’t want to be a homosexual, and if being a homosexual bothers you, then here’s a faggot! Are you satisfied? That's nice.

Would you say that this is just a childish protest? Riot in the sandbox? Yes, that's probably true. Against whom? Yes, still against myself. Unfortunately, despite all the self-psychotherapy, deep remnants of internal homophobia still reside within me. And every time, calling myself a fagot, I again and again overcome my basic childhood fear, the fear of not being like everyone else, the fear of falling in the eyes of others, the fear of shame, the fear of being expelled from the society of “normal” people, the fear of being humiliated and beaten. But now I am proud that I can call myself the word that I was so afraid to hear from others. Yes, I am a fag, because being a fag sounds proud, and saying it out loud is also bold.

I admit, I didn’t hear offensive words addressed to me very often, and I, unlike many, did not suffer from obvious open external homophobia. I cannot blame anyone in particular for the words or actions that gave rise to this corrosive and destructive self-dislike in me. But background homophobia was enough for me, because, while forming and growing up in a heteronormative world , I was able to create a little personal homophobic hell for myself. It was very difficult for me to realize and accept my homosexuality, my abnormality - and then I did not even doubt that it was abnormal. Without any opportunity to share or simply talk about this topic (my mother still has a guilt complex for this), I convinced myself of my inferiority, of my ugliness. I understand that there is no one to blame for this, I was just not very lucky to be born different from the majority (although now I consider it luck). And, not having strong personal qualities at that young age, I succumbed to the pressure of the “normal” majority, and this, alas, greatly broke me. It seems that no one is to blame for my problem, but without the surrounding homophobia this simply would not have happened. And if in those Internetless times at least someone had told me that this was normal, that there were many such people, that I would not remain forever locked inside my abnormality, that I could find love, family, sex, and understanding friends, then my psyche would now be much more stable and healthy. It took me a lot of effort, time and frayed nerves to stop considering myself a freak, to understand that I am fine, that my homosexuality does not make me worse or better than others. It took me a lot of effort to learn to talk about her, if not quite calmly (this probably won’t happen), then at least without internal trembling, and without the constant fear of being misunderstood, humiliated or beaten.

By calling myself a fagot now, I’m trying to compensate for all the pain and time that I was afraid to admit to myself (even without using harsh words) - yes, I’m gay. But now I don’t want to sweep garbage under the sofa, there’s enough of it already accumulated there. And with the phrase “I’m a fagot!”, albeit belatedly, I declare my existence to the world, and I consciously choose the very word that this world came up with to humiliate me. But now I am already making a demand, if not for love (love still needs to be earned), then for respect, and by default, all people are worthy of respect, at least until they prove otherwise.

So yes, I am a fagot! And I'm proud to say it out loud. And I hope that over time I will grow to the honorary title of a real fighting fagot, and then my goal in this long journey of self-acceptance and the fight against internal homophobia will finally be achieved.