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rinueYale researchers have a theory that conflicting emotional expressions are a sign of mental health and reslience - that it's a self-correcting mechanism to protect you from extreme emotional states. In that context, crying at a wedding makes sense, as does laughing at tragedy. It seems crazy to the people around you, but it's the CNS equivalent of smacking on a tourniquet.
My reaction to the Supreme Court's "gay marriage is marriage" ruling has mostly been "well, of course." But also extreme, fierce sadness, as though I've been living in occupied territory as an invisible background noise in every moment; finally liberation has come and it's safe to collapse. It feels strange to join in the celebration and say "we did it," because although I'm bisexual I have for the most part not borne much discrimination that couldn't be as equally traced to being a woman or being an artist or being an outsider or being young; my oppression has been almost entirely the need to smother my own empathy for friends and strangers who had to struggle for no reason. Nor is it my triumph in the sense of something I caused; I can flatter myself I've moved the needle for a few people as part of a larger shift in public opinion, but this is like saying I contribute to the composition of Earth's atmosphere. I do, but not with statistical significance.
I suspect "hooray, fireworks!" would be a better reaction, but I feel awful. I feel so angry. I feel so angry on behalf of my friends, and also for myself, now that I don't have to make peace and forgive. Which of course is still what has to be done. I think I am not very good at parties.
My reaction to the Supreme Court's "gay marriage is marriage" ruling has mostly been "well, of course." But also extreme, fierce sadness, as though I've been living in occupied territory as an invisible background noise in every moment; finally liberation has come and it's safe to collapse. It feels strange to join in the celebration and say "we did it," because although I'm bisexual I have for the most part not borne much discrimination that couldn't be as equally traced to being a woman or being an artist or being an outsider or being young; my oppression has been almost entirely the need to smother my own empathy for friends and strangers who had to struggle for no reason. Nor is it my triumph in the sense of something I caused; I can flatter myself I've moved the needle for a few people as part of a larger shift in public opinion, but this is like saying I contribute to the composition of Earth's atmosphere. I do, but not with statistical significance.
I suspect "hooray, fireworks!" would be a better reaction, but I feel awful. I feel so angry. I feel so angry on behalf of my friends, and also for myself, now that I don't have to make peace and forgive. Which of course is still what has to be done. I think I am not very good at parties.
