LGBTQ and Me: A Perspective as an Ally

The term "LGBTQ" has become widely known now, hasn't it?

LGBTQ is an acronym for the following, and is considered a general term for sexual minorities.

• Lesbian: A woman who is attracted to women

• Gay: A man who is attracted to men

• Bisexual: A person attracted to both men and women

• Transgender: A person who lives or wishes to live as a gender different from the one assigned at birth

• Queer: A sexuality that falls outside of normative gender and sexual identities

• Questioning: A person who does not belong to a specific category regarding their own sexuality

In recent years, a "+" (plus) is sometimes added to make it "LGBTQ+", which is used to include diverse sexualities that do not fit into the LGBTQ categories.

I am an "Ally"

I am an "Ally." An ally refers to someone who is not an LGBTQ individual themselves, but understands and wishes to stand with them.

Writing it this way might sound a bit dramatic, but
I am not the type to actively go around saying "I totally get it!" or
"I want everyone to understand diverse sexualities!"
and engaging in active campaigning.

Like with anyone else, I am just someone who wishes to treat them without special treatment and simply be together. as one person.

Experience in a performance unit

When I hear LGBTQ, I am reminded of
the first performance unit I formed.

I had a period where I was exhausted from seriously pursuing theater,
and something inside me just snapped.

I started a "punk act where we sang and danced to pop songs in heavy makeup and skimpy outfits," and among the four of us at that time, everyone except me was a sexual minority, such as bisexual or transgender. was the case.

In that world, I was actually the "minority"!

The other three were all stylish, beautiful, and overflowing with talent.
They were also skilled at expressing themselves, tough, and quick-witted.

Having never had my sexual identity waver in my life,
and being a "heterosexual" who likes the opposite sex,

"Have I been living in a bubble...?"
"Maybe I'm just a boring person?"
"Maybe I can't stand out among these charming people...?"

I sometimes felt a strange sense of isolation.

The four of us were together all the time, talking about music and movies, planning performances and visuals, sometimes clashing, speaking our minds, being moved by each other's talents, and occasionally having beastly (lol) fights.

In the end, our personalities were too strong and we fell apart,
but that's also a good memory.

What I want to convey

Ultimately, what I want to say is,
"Just live your life happily! As long as you don't hurt others or yourself, that's fine!"
is what I mean.

As a former creative professional (actor) who likes exploring the nightlife and is sometimes a "party animal" (lol), I have various sexual minority friends and acquaintances.

Many of them are "battle-hardened veterans" who have constantly faced the question of "who am I"
and fought against numerous prejudices and absurdities,
so many of them are strong and resilient.

Their footprints and thoughts come through so clearly that
I respect them very much.

While they welcome those who come to them,
there are also those who will firmly say "no!" if something doesn't meet their standards,
or who will simply walk away.

I sometimes catch glimpses of a "deep loneliness" that I have never experienced myself,
and there are many times when I think
I cannot easily express or summarize it in simple words.

With those friends, we aren't particularly too close or too distant,
we are just there for each other, we meet if we want to meet, and they feel the same way,
and that relationship continues.
It's the exact same feeling I have with my other friends.

Even when I interact with them as a career consultant, I don't particularly brace myself,
and I approach them with a stance of trying to understand them
just as they are.