今日吃瓜

BEING a young queer person, it can sometimes be easy to assume a moral high ground. After all, we鈥檙e such a fabulous group of inherently open-minded 鈥渒eyboard activists鈥� and (in many ways) remain on the calloused back foot of national equality. With many of us managing to survive the seemingly endless torments of both puberty and high-school, I suppose it鈥檚 easy to feel well-positioned and honourably equipped to pass judgement on the perceived narrow-mindedness of others around us.

And we do so 鈥� loudly and proudly.

However, I was recently left incredibly humbled after speaking with a friend of mine who鈥檚 transitioning from female into a more masculine gender. This person explained to me with utmost patience their preference for the gender-neutral pronouns 鈥渢hey鈥�, 鈥渢hem鈥� and 鈥渢heir鈥�; the inherent feelings of unease they had long struggled with in their own bodies; and the ongoing physical and emotional repercussions that came with hormone replacement therapy.

I, as a gay man, have never felt so ignorant. I must admit, I had previously found the notion of gender-fluidity to be a little polarising. Not because I didn鈥檛 agree with it or thought it unnatural, but simply because I didn鈥檛 fully understand it 鈥� because I鈥檇 not experienced it.

I left the caf茅 that morning with a strange and new-found empathy for those who had previously misunderstood me. Those who might have made hurtful off-the-cuff comments regarding my sexuality or asked questions which I had swiftly deemed ignorant. Those who had not experienced homosexuality or were raised in environments that condemned it. Such as the fire-haired classmate in year 9 who innocently recited 鈥渂ottoms should be a one-way street鈥�. Or the religious soon-to-be mother who prayed for me aloud as I entered her family home in country Florida. These incidents, though respectively steeped in youthful impressionability and religious faith, had hurt my feelings. But maybe they shouldn鈥檛 have.

Without excusing prejudicial language or behaviour 鈥� both of which are absolutely inexcusable 鈥� I think it鈥檚 reasonable to assume that the vast majority of those who continue to resist equality don鈥檛 do so from a malicious place, but from a place of uncertainty. As our society continues to develop and grow to include those once banished to the cultural fringes, our progress serves only to highlight the distance we鈥檝e yet to travel.

Now, as we collectively saddle-up for what could be the final push to a full free parliamentary vote on marriage equality, I find myself reflecting on those who don鈥檛 enjoy quite as certain a future 鈥� and those whom I鈥檝e isolated for not openly supporting my own.

At one time or another we鈥檝e all been a little wracked with uncertainty, which is fine, so long as it鈥檚 framed by the genuine desire to learn and understand. Just as I once umm-ed and ah-ed over the moral fine print for trans* youth, questioned the political motives of conservative family members, and silently patronised those of strong religious faith 鈥� I鈥檝e realised that a defensive standpoint is rarely the best way of moving forward. I鈥檝e also still got a whole lot of learning to do.

And while I鈥檓 sure that equality won鈥檛 always be achieved through candid conversation over skinny lattes and the Sunday paper, maybe it鈥檚 a good place to start.

Samuel Leighton-Dore is a Sydney-based writer and director. His best-selling eBook Love or Something Like It is available now and his children鈥檚 book I Think I鈥檓 A Poof .

Follow Samuel on Twitter via聽

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**This was first published in the July edition of the Star Observer, which is . To obtain a physical copy, to find out where you can grab one in Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, Adelaide, Canberra and select regional/coastal areas.