By: Lora

There really is this weird brand of acceptance we do for queer people in the South. It's kind of like when you come out and your mom pretends not to hear you. Like, everyone might know that you're a chick who sleeps with other women, but they are NEVER going to say it. It's not that they're denying it exists, because deep down they know, it's just easier to not talk about it (as is the case with SO MANY THINGS in the South). I look back at my childhood and my church and my extended family and can pinpoint so many queer people - the therapist my whole family has been to, who saved my life when I started seeing her at age 10; an older male cousin who moved to Tennessee to no doubt live his life a bit removed from the watchful eye of his very Christian mother, but who I am certain probably called her every day; the slightly effeminate bachelors at church who were friends with my aunts. We never talked about them being "different," though. It's kind of easy to accept that warm, comfortable status, of not being out but being accepted, as long as you don't get too irate about not being able to talk about your life or bring a significant other to a pitch-in dinner. And because a lot of Southerners apply that policy of "don't ask, don't tell" to most things in their life that slightly stink of sin - the pastor's affairs, the worship leader sleeping with his best friend's wife, your aunt's first husband, the time your grandpa was married for a week before he got it annulled - it's not far-fetched that you might not feel singled out because of your homosexuality because everyone has their secrets and they're all treated the same way.