Coming out: How derby made me come over all queer

Tell anyone who knows very little about roller derby that you play and, before long, the subject of lesbianism comes up. Facebook updates on derby are littered with "LOL it's so gay" and "ur all lesbians" (in my world, ignorant people also type like they're using a Cyrillic keyboard with half the keys missing) from people who, one imagines, are blessed with overripe imaginations and the ability to type one-handed. Bless 'em.

Still, it is part of the sport, much as those pesky gays are part of life itself (they're everywhere!). After a few comments I saw on Facebook recently, I came to the conclusion that my little corner of the internet was due a wee explanation of my own experience and take on the idea that Derby Makes You Gay.

Because it's partially responsible for my coming out. (Ok, this post is quite long. The upshot is that I'm queer. How 'bout that?)

Let me start at the beginning (ish).

I've always known that the married with 2.4 kids plan was never really going to go my way. I came out to myself that I wasn't straight when I was about, what, 13? I was living in a whitebread part of the West of Scotland at the time and being a bigger kid with short hair, glassses, a love of terrible French synth-pop and science fiction and I was destined for a metaphorical kicking as soon as I entered high school. And a kicking I got.

It was a fancy dress party, alright?

Scotland in the '90's was a hotbed of inventive slang and vicious, spit-flecked put-downs. I moved schools after my first year of high school became a misery of lesbian taunts, girls making a point of moving away from me in the changing rooms at PE, being chased down by boys for being "wan ae 'em BEANS, man!" I eventually moved schools and got the same thing there anyway, but these were apparently nicer kids and they kept it a bit more subtle. I got through. I discovered Glasgow's LGBT centre when I was about 16, and weekends were spent within it's safe walls, talking absolute junk with kids as confused as me. I started to lead a bit of a bizarre dual life. Weekdays, I kept my head down, had a weeny circle of friends, and paid attention in class. Weeknights after my wee job down the supermarket, I'd hit the gay bar in the city centre, relax, be myself, and race home for the last train, hopped up on diet coke and dancing to Kylie (which I detested). My parents, who have been and always will be amazing, let me do my thing. There was never any "talk", no big coming out drama. They knew where I was going, met a couple of those early girlfriends in passing, and at no point was there ever anything but quiet support and love. In a way, not having some big "We support and love you no matter what" issue made of it actually made it easier to accept who I was and what I felt. What was there to feel bad about when it was obviously no big deal to the people who mattered?

Through my later teens and early twenties, I was pretty much straight. I described myself as bisexual, but that it wasn't a big deal. I had a few long-term, serious relationships with men that had the potential to get more serious, but I always ended them (two years appears to be my expiry date). There were many factors in each of these breakups, but one of them always was "I'm bisexual and I've never really explored it, this doesn't feel right". The idea of being in a monogamous, heterosexual relationship with someone but being able to have sex with women on the side has always seemed weird to me, almost like lesbianism "doesn't count". I respect people who can have relationships with that element in them, but it was never for me.

Then I met roller derby, and things changed a bit.

As I've said in previous posts, I used to be a bit of a female chauvanist pig. I didn't have many female friends for a long period in my life, and it took a while for me to latch on to the idea that hey, women are just as funny, awesome and good to be friends with as men, and that being feminine is actually OK. However, derby was the first time my social scene became almost exclusively female. It didn't matter that most of the women in my league are straight, but to me it felt like finally here was a place where I could be the woman I really wanted to be. No bullshit pretense to be one of the lads, no need to pretend about who I was.

Being able to do this, to rock up in hotpants one day and boyjeans and a shirt the next with nary a second glance, to see femme lesbians mix with butch straight women and pretty much the entire spectrum in between without the backhanded compliments or attitude, taught me one hell of an important lesson about how it was actually quite easy to be the person I wanted to be, once I stopped giving a crap about how others viewed that person. Trite as this sounds (and I've rewritten it about three times and this is as good as it's going to get) something this simple has changed my life.

I'm not saying that it's an easy process, sorting all this out in my head. My last relationship ended (something I don't want to talk about here, we ended amicably and we're still in touch), and I took a few months out. Took stock. I went on a couple of dates with guys, and....nothing. Good to talk to, but no interest there for me at all. After lots of thought and soul-searching and staring at my tummy-button and talking to people (thanks, Amie!), I've come to the conclusion that, if I'm not lesbian, I'm certainly very, very queer.

I've never liked to pigeonhole myself if I can help it, at least not since I was a babygoth playing the misunderstood minority card. I don't really like the word "gay" (it suggests complete female exclusivity and I don't think that's for me), "Bisexual" doesn't work for a couple of reasons for me. One, it suggests that you're only attracted to men and women, and given that gender is way, way more complex than that it seems a bit restrictive to me. "Pansexual" works better, but constantly having to explain it is annoying (NZ-based sex-blogger and columnist Curvaceous Dee (link NSFW) wrote a pretty comprehensive explanation for the Express here). So I guess queer will do for now, it's nicely descriptive, fun to say, and seems to sum me up better than anything else. I'm not saying I'll never be in a heterosexual, monogamous relationship ever again, but it's not likely.

Without the women in this photo and the others in our league,
this post would never have been written and I'd not be
the person I am today

It's taken me nearly 30 years, but I'm finally happy with who I am. Shame it took so long, but if it wasn't for roller derby and the women I've met through it, I might never have sorted it out at all.

And that, ladies and gentlemen (and whoever managed to stick around to read all that, I salute you), is how roller derby made me queer.