Who Am I? Being Queer In The Bayou
By Kelly Schexnaildre
Presented by 7shifts
Opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily represent the views of Best Served. To achieve our mission of bringing more voices to the table, we are committed to sharing a variety of viewpoints across the industry.
We must give a voice to stories and experiences outside the cisgender heteronormative paradigm to push our society into a new state of consciousness. My story exists outside this paradigm, and I’d like to share it with you. I grew up queer in South Louisiana, and I always sensed that there was something a little bit different about me. I wasn’t like other girls; I didn't like dresses or girly things, I thought boys were gross, and I wanted to ride my bike, climb trees, play football, and go fishing.
Who I am as a gender non-conforming lesbian calls society’s acceptance and my family’s love for me into question, and I have to weigh my freedom against my ability to wrestle with the loneliness and ostracization that may result from coming out. I am sold the hopes and dreams in fairy tales of marriage and kids and a house with a white picket fence, and then I'm told I can't have it. Queer people are kicked out onto the streets by our families, we are allowed in church but told we’re abominations against God, we’re mocked for dressing too masculine or not masculine enough, and in some parts of America today we are still in danger for holding our partner’s hand as we walk down the road. The greatest threat of all, however, is best said by Daniel A. Helminiak PhD, the author of What the Bible Really Says About Homosexuality. “Much human potential is squashed and wasted in people who live for years in secret self-hatred, taught to be afraid of their own hearts.”1
Millennials are really the first openly queer generation. The Baby Boomers and Generation X queers didn’t have the luxury (except in rare cases) of living openly without committing social suicide and losing their homes and families. As a result, millennial queers had very few role models in society, both in their hometowns and the larger world. Without representation, the world is a lonely place. I had no reference point for my identity, except what I could scrape from secret books and frantic internet searches. I had no sense that I could grow up and be successful and happy and also be a lesbian. I figured out that I was gay at 13; and it was a revelation that both delighted and frightened me. I had finally figured out the mystery of myself, and to have a name for who I was gave me a sense of wholeness. I suspected, however, that being a lesbian was going to make my life quite challenging. I was right.
Forget the leers, the taunts, and that guy grabbing my crotch in a bar after I kissed my girlfriend and saying, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, YOU DYKE”. Forget the shaming by religious fanatics, the job discrimination, or relentless pressure to conform to society’s expectations. The real threat to every queer everywhere is self-hatred: the belief that you are fundamentally flawed and unlovable. I have gotten sober from alcoholism and an eating disorder, I have attended psychotherapy on and off for many years, and I have an overwhelming relationship with the God of my understanding, and I STILL struggle with self-hatred. I know I can’t speak for every queer, but I’m confident I can speak for many. Self-hatred is a cunning thief: it has robbed me of the fundamental sense that I belong to the world and am worthy of love and respect. It has, in many ways, become an unshakeable foundation.
The key to overcoming self-hatred, which I believe can be a lifetime job, is to act our way into right thinking. I have to take small, deliberate actions every day to demonstrate to myself that I am enough just as I am. When I first came out, self-love looked like cutting my long hair and changing my style of dress to more masculine and living openly as a lesbian. I had to affirm my own identity by allowing my outside to match my inside. There is so much power in clothes; they are a performance of my queer identity and make it easier for my queer brothers and sisters to see me. There are other small acts of self-love that I can commit to every day: taking a bubble bath, eating a nutritious meal, going for a walk, praying, meditating, having dinner with queer friends, exercising, and most importantly, writing myself love notes. The most important relationship we have is with ourselves, so do something everyday that sets your heart on fire with love for YOU.
Relationships extend far beyond the four walls of a restaurant and include employees and customers. Best Served is excited to partner with 7shifts, underwriter of Best Served Custom, whose commitment to employee engagement provides a real time feedback loop, building a strong culture and customer experience.
Kelly Schexnaildre is a chef, health coach, and the owner + founder of Merfs Condiments. She currently lives in New Orleans, Louisiana, and is passionate about food, playing drums, fishing, and all things health and fitness.
