Where did love go?

Hi everyone!

It’s certainly been a minute since we’ve spoken! A lot has happened since my last post. But, no time like the present to get back on the horse and start writing again.

I’ll do a post updating what’s been happening in my life for the past year, but here are some of the highlights. I’m a senior in college, I’ve dyed my hair multiple times and chopped it (getting back to the natural brown!), worked on my romance novel, gained some new friends along the way, came out as queer to my family and friends, started a podcast, went to lots more concerts with Emma, and I’m celebrating a year with my boyfriend this week. Woo hoo! We’ll debrief a lot of that later.

For this post, I wanted to focus on the topic of humanity, and how in a time like this where laws are in place to put people down and shut people out, we all need to love each other a bit more.

So I mentioned earlier that I’m a queer woman. For some of you, that may be shocking or you may be a bit confused. That’s okay! Let’s talk about it. For me, it just means there are no arbitrary rules for attraction. It doesn’t matter to me what a person looks like or which identities like “man” and “woman” they hold, I fall in love with people and their hearts. That’s my favorite way to describe it.

With coming out to my family and friends the past year, I’ve received a lot of support. I’m so grateful for the support system I have, and I know not everyone is that lucky.

Recently, if you’ve been following the news, you’ll know that Governor Kim Reynolds is signing many anti LGBTQ+ laws in the state of Iowa. This is…scary. To say the least. I don’t want to talk your ear off about politics or “right” or “wrong”. I don’t want to have a debate on human rights, I just want to tell you where I’m at with it.

This is my boyfriend, Archer. He is a trans man and one of my very best friends. When I think of the anti-trans laws being put into effect, I think of him. I think of the boy who talks to his plants, loves aquariums, writes poetry, and makes everyone feel special. If he were under eighteen, he would have six months to detransition. Six months to become someone he’s not. Putting faces to the people who will be directly affected by these bills—people you love who will be hurt by them— is so scary, and it’s our current reality. Not a what if anymore, but when.

A few weeks ago, I went to Capitol Hill in Des Moines with Archer and some of our friends to peacefully protest these bills. (We even did a ‘Queers These Days’ episode talking to some of the people there!) Going to Des Moines and seeing people fighting for our human rights was incredibly liberating. It wasn’t for petty political issues, this was a place where we could find community on the steps of the Capitol. People who could share their stories and exist with other people who have historically always been a little on the outside of the norms.

Going to a protest like that with hundreds of people who support you and want to fight for your human rights, it’s a beautiful feeling. But coming back to my college campus, it’s easy to get discouraged. I feel like not a lot of people know just how scary this is. How harmful this is for transgender Iowans and queer kids. How hard it must be to live in a state that has shown them nothing but hatred and exclusion.

Why are we so passionate about hating? Where did this come from? You don’t have to be a member of the LGBTQ+ community or even agree with it for that matter, but why is it so hard to see them as people? Why do we so badly wish to take people’s rights away?

On my college campus, there is a definite “keep your head down” mentality. Faculty wants to keep quiet. Even places deemed “safe spaces” for the queer community are urging them to be quiet. Maybe it makes me seem like a loose canon, but I don’t ever want to keep my head down and let things continue the way they are. Not to be harsh, but it feels cowardly to me. I understand jobs may be at stake, but so are people’s lives! The same lives they signed up to advocate and protect, they’re now silencing.

At my university, by choosing not to advocate for all students—especially the ones who are under fire—that silence is promoting violence. Now more than ever, we need to show people that we are proud to be who we are. That we are proud to exist. That we are proud of all Iowans for being exactly who they are.

Sorry if that sounded preachy.

I like to consider myself a pretty peaceful and easy-going gal. But lately, I just feel so…angry. I’m sad that not more people care about this. I’m sad my university wants to sweep this under the rug. I feel a little betrayed. I’m hurt for the kids who go to school hoping it can be their safe space and suddenly it isn’t anymore.

It’s easy to feel burnt out and a little helpless. I don’t mean to isolate readers, I don’t mean to hurt people’s feelings. All I’m asking for is people to show a little empathy. A little kindness. Some humanity.

I’m tired of dancing around the subject, making sure to be politically correct, or going out of my way to make people feel comfortable with an uncomfortable topic. Because a lot of queer people are uncomfortable right now. A lot of LGBTQ+ people are hurting.

Regardless of what your feelings are on the topic, I urge you to remember we are all human beings. I would never tell you how to live your life, and I hope you wouldn’t tell me how to live mine. We may have different views, and that’s a beautiful thing! We still have choices. We still have autonomy to live the way we want to live. But many of these bills are taking away that autonomy for queer and trans people. Don’t we all deserve to live and love the way we want?

Our lives are incredibly short on this spinning rock. Are we really going to spend our lives hating people and finding reasons that they don’t belong? Or will we choose not to do the easy thing—to speak out and fight for everyone?

I'll leave you with a picture of Arch and me. This is my best friend. This is someone I love very deeply. I will never stop fighting for Archer, and I'll never stop fighting for the rights of all trans people until they feel safe and loved and like they belong in this country, in this state, heck even in this world. Because we all belong, and we all deserve to be exactly who we are. I will never stop fighting for queer and trans voices. What will you do?

Love,

Maddie