Words can be incredible life giving things, they can lift you out of dark places and give you hope where there was none. Words build allies and deepen friendships whether whispered in the dark or shouted from the front of a pride parade.
Words are equally capable of tearing families apart, burning bridges, starting wars, ending friendships... the list goes on. For every lovingly uttered chosen pronoun there are so many others more interested in choosing their words as weapons.
I survived that encounter by leaving them with kindness and compassion and ending the conversation before they could respond. I'm not interested in the response, the backpedalling, the apologies. You can't take it back. You can't suck your words back into your lungs and pretend it never happened. Here in the virtual world we have a mute button, it shuts the hate out for good but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
Sometimes, unlike last night, the hate comes from elsewhere that looks like a well meaning place. A casual mistake. Words emblazoned across cloth. I'm beating around the bush, using words because I don't want to be the one to say no. I don't want to be the activist today yet he's pounding at my ribs to be free. Therein lies the dilemma.
It's never ok to say He/She.
Ama.
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