On being visibly pregnant and invisibly queer
But now this being pregnant thing is kind of tripping me up. Like, I'm still really happy with my life, but I'm feeling this internal pressure to conform more closely to my conception of what the cultural norm is for mothers. I can't even believe this, but after a trip to the children's museum where I saw a bunch of very thin, beautifully dressed moms with their babies, I actually seriously considered trying to lose weight after the baby's born. It's kind of freaking me out! Like, who has invaded my brain, and why is she totally crazy! I mean, I've come to terms with my periodic urges to lose weight so that sexy women will think I'm hot and want to come talk to me. But wanting to diet so that I'll fit in with the weird mommy cliques in the freakin children's museum? This is actually frightening me.
I think that my trust in myself, that I wouldn't stuff my poor inner baby dyke back in the closet again, was pretty tenuous even before I was pregnant. I mean, I was doing my work and all, but occasional forays to the Big City to attend queer events and some occasional journaling just wasn't a lot, you know? And now I'm not going to be doing many forays, I'm not going to be learning to ride a motorcycle, and I gave up on my cute butch hair. Add to that how I'm contemplating buying sweater sets and losing forty pounds, it just doesn't make me feel so trustworthy to myself.