The most important thing to say about Hannah Gadsby's stand-up Netflix special, "Nanette," is: Go watch it. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you won't. You may not agree with all of it, but you will chuckle, and your eyes might even get a touch watery. The morning after I watched it, I made a list of reactions/realizations.
Like many people, I cried a little when I watched "Nanette." Not because I have experienced the things Gadsby has experienced--I haven't. And not because I felt sorry for her--I didn't. No, I cried because I recognized the important power of Gadsby's story, and because it made me realize the important power of my own. I cried because of all the times I've used myself as a punchline to make myself more accessible to people. I cried because I realized I chose my occupation partly because I thought it was one of the few places someone like me would not have to worry about poor treatment. I cried because this turns out not to be true. I cried because of the ways I have failed to listen to other people's stories. I cried because of the ways I have failed to tell my own.
2/26/2019 12:07:40 pm
I hear you on a lot of these. I used to tell my story a lot, was completely open in a blog I used to keep up but in the past five or so years I haven't. I've allowed myself to feel insignificant in that respect. Lately I've been feeling like it might be time to come back to the blog world but I didn't think that people were still doing it these days. Specially other butches like me. Then this afternoon, I typed into a Google search, "butch lesbian blogs" and two came up, yours being one of them. I am happy to see you're still in this space. Thank you for keeping it going and for the encouragement I received when seeing your recent post.
10/22/2019 03:46:08 am
Thank you for being still around
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