Never Let Hate Dim Your Shine!

One lesson I learned early in life as a queer Kenyan woman was the need to choose to self-isolate for self-preservation. While I prefer to live my life quietly and not shout from the rooftops about my identity there are moments like this one needs to stand up to prejudice. I knew from a young age that as private as I am, I wanted to live as authentically as possible and refusing to confine my life and choices within narrow homophobic closets. I figured, life is far too damn short and precious to defend oneself for being different.

So selective socialising and sometimes self-isolation seemed like the best way to steer clear of both outright homophobia and the everyday microaggressions that come even from well-meaning colleagues, friends, and family. This is also why many queer folk take seriously the notion of chosen family.

Folks would frequently ask why I avoided most family gatherings or friend get-togethers. My mind drifts to the oh so many times we find ourselves in draining, life-sucking social spaces that leave you thinking, ‘wait, why am I here again?’ There’s that classic phrase, “I have gay friends,” or the dismissive “I don’t see colour,” or the irksome compliment of “You’re so smart” or “You are so articulate.” It made me wonder if those who ask me this question are genuinely clueless or simply tone-deaf.

It’s been a while since I last visited my motherland, Uganda, and it saddens me to think about how laws criminalising love have come to exist. It’s a heavy burden, realising how deeply embedded and pervasive hatred and prejudice can be to split and cause rifts in our relationships and interactions. I often find myself unwittingly pulled into conversations with cisgender and heterosexual family and friends, who stubbornly refuse to acknowledge that rampant homophobia and transphobia is alive and thriving even in our close-knit spaces. It all came to a head one day and I consciously chose never to engage in those conversations again. Its not my responsibility to educate and defend myself to anyone. And so I hope that if you are reading this post and struggling to feel and be accepted by your people and community please realise today that the only meaningful acceptance needed for your happiness is self-acceptance and self-love. This is the genesis of everything.

When I stumble upon these dicy discussions, I breathe, brace, smile, and deftly sidestep into lighter, more mundane topics to keep the peace. 

One spicy conversation in recent years however stood out. One day out of the blue, an aunt of mine got a hold of my cell number from my sister and reached out to invite me to a family lunch she was hosting. It was a delightful surprise, as I hadn’t spent time with her in a while, and I looked forward to reconnecting. However, things took an awkward turn when I asked if I could bring my partner along.

She hesitated, her discomfort palpable on the call as she bumbled for words. “You know, Chiqy, I personally don’t have any issues with you people... I am very progressive but I just don’t want to upset the other wazees who will be attending.” 

I mean okay, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but still, I was quite taken aback and deeply hurt by her choice of words.

“Then if you both come, can you please behave?” 

That really threw me off. I couldn't even...

Let’s just say the conversation quickly escalated, I barely managed to keep my cool and declined the invitation, asserting that I would never shrink or minimize myself for the comfort of others—especially those who selectively embrace or reject prejudice based on when it suits them. 

It's frankly exhausting to navigate a life filled with constant hate and judgment. While I face daily put-downs and insults from those closest to me, I’ve come to realize that harboring anger or resentment is draining. I’d much rather choose joy over suffering. 

I am learning that those who cling to prejudice are wounded who hurt and hate themselves much like the harm they spew out on others. Living a life steeped in loathing and anger can’t be easy on the heart body and soul, and I genuinely feel sad for them. I hope there comes a day when they can find the boldness look inward, heal their own hurts, and offer the tenderness and compassion they so desperately lack to themselves and trickle down to others. 

One can only hope.

Last week in a feminist meeting I attended, the word "hope" came up, and given the current upheavals in the world, it sparked diverse reactions in the room. Some felt that hope was misplaced, viewing it as an attempt to gloss over and invalidate the genuine suffering many are experiencing in these times. Others saw hope as a beacon—a glimmer of light that suggests change is possible despite the current chaos. No matter where we stood on that spectrum, we all agreed that perhaps hope could evolve into courage—the courage to confront these challenging times in ways that foster openness, generate possibilities, and, most importantly, promote healing.

So, for anyone who needs to hear this, I encourage you to have a day full of hope and fully embrace being your unapologetically authentic loving self!