今日吃瓜

This Monday, I arranged to meet with two friends for the first time since June. As Melbourne鈥檚 second lockdown spiralled from six weeks to nine, news singles could travel to households outside their 5km local limit to meet with one other person was the trigger. In 2019, we鈥檇 seen each other four or five times a month without fail. Since March 2020, we鈥檇 met three times. Because there were three of us instead of two, by deciding to meet, we understood we were going to break the law.

Planning was crucial. We squared our stories via Whatsapp just in case we were stopped by Police. We organised travel routes in advance. No stops, no risk of contact or spread. We set alarms so there was no danger of staying too late and being out after curfew. The next day, we all got tested. We鈥檙e still COVID negative at time of writing.

We also agreed to lie to other people about meeting. The condemnation in Melbourne鈥檚 queer community for meeting up for so called 鈥渞andom sex鈥� right now is astonishing. I鈥檝e known these two men for years, but we鈥檙e not in a heteronormative relationship. I still knew if I told some people I鈥檇 started meeting them again, I鈥檇 be angrily called out on social media.

Truthfully, I鈥檝e been meeting guys all through this lockdown. I also know I鈥檓 not alone and no one wants to say it out loud. The shift to a heteronormative gold standard in Melbourne was fast and frightening. You can obey almost all lockdown restrictions, be socially responsible and still meet people. Keep it to yourself mind you. You don鈥檛 just risk the fines. You risk becoming a social pariah.

听Early on, a single friend and I declared each other 鈥渓ockdown partners鈥� so we could travel outside our 5km zones and meet. We鈥檇 sync schedules, memorise each other’s details so we could explain ourselves to Police if questioned and kept carefully abreast of each other鈥檚 health. We were painfully conscientious. After a while, the notion struck me that maybe meeting one or two other guys in the same way was not as drastic or as criminal as I assumed.

There鈥檚 a giant difference between meeting a perfect stranger at 2am and meeting a close friend to spend the night. You wouldn鈥檛 know it right now given how guilty everybody doing that feels. Over the course of nine weeks, I left my 5km zone seven times to meet two friends. We communicated very carefully with each other and made sure no one鈥檚 health was ever at risk. We still broke the law and risked thousands of dollars in fine.

Deep dive through Twitter and you鈥檒l find plenty of queer people who call that sort of behaviour reckless. But as , the framework for lockdown has been so exclusively heteronormative, realistically, single queer people had little other choice. What bothers me most is how quickly the queer community accepted a single, queer lifestyle was dangerous and how harshly they judged anyone living it. If you鈥檙e single and openly admit to meeting people during lockdown, there鈥檚 no vision of doing so responsibly. You鈥檙e just a monster.

I don鈥檛 consider myself above the law. I think COVID-19 is a lethal international catastrophe. I don鈥檛 question the need for lockdowns. I鈥檓 not part of the 鈥淒ictator Dan鈥� crowd. It feels right to clarify that because I know how easily this could be dismissed as conspiracist, or thoughtless, arrogance in a time of crisis.

听I live alone in a one-bedroom apartment. I鈥檓 currently single. I鈥檓 several years estranged from my biological relatives. My friends and my community are my family. Lockdown didn鈥檛 just eliminate my love life. It ended all forms of company for months and shattered my support network. I entered lockdown and the curfew aware that I was 鈥渙ther鈥� to societies expectations.

These circumstances are not exclusive to members of the queer community. But the way Melbourne鈥檚 stage four lockdown was constructed and the way it has been consistently explained by representatives of my state government, it鈥檚 clear they weren鈥檛 thinking of people outside a nuclear family unit. In Australia, in 2020, I had hoped we鈥檇 moved past that place.

Where I made my mistake, is in not speaking up. The pandemic has sapped a lot of people鈥檚 energy and there鈥檚 plenty happening this year to distract us. Perhaps I鈥檓 a romantic, but I would like to believe that a time existed not long ago when the queer community would have heard the rules for stage four lockdown and immediately said 鈥渘ot good enough!鈥� Instead, we vilified each other and reinforced the notion that anything outside a heteronormative lifestyle was criminal behaviour. We should know better by now. Shouldn鈥檛 we?