An Open Letter

For the last four or five days I’ve spent idle time trying to chase down this feeling of mourning I’ve felt, specifically while thinking about friends or experiences I will never share. The final clue came in a UCSB Reddit post, of a group of queer women asking for a drummer to join their lesbian band. When I felt the same feeling of mourning, things cleared up a bit more.

I think I’m mourning the lack of community, which manifests in the longing and envy I find when excluded inherently from different communities. Growing up I was excluded a lot, so I have a bit more compassion for myself understanding it’s a sore spot, but I also do feel that jealousy for women-centric groups, or for exclusive communities. I’m grateful I am not necessarily a marginalized group, don’t get me wrong – but growing up as a man who was painted as a monster for being male by the powerful women in my life made it pretty hard to give myself kindness or compassion, when I was told that I was always the problem. I get that cis men cause a lot of issues for other groups, but I can’t help but feel caught up in the crossfire, as regardless of my actions or values I am automatically stereotyped in a certain way, and excluded from communities.

A part of me longs for a community exclusive to people like me, as a kind of fairness but unfortunately the idea of a “male only” has been solidified in my mind as some kind of a supervillain association.

After enough self-pity, I feel like I want to seek out a male group, perhaps focused on childhood trauma or mental health, or if I feel courageous enough to start one of my own.