Twenty-three years ago, i saw my first drag queen. i knew right then and there that i was going to be one — despite all the people telling me i couldn’t. And i did. i became the first.
Recently, i’ve been dealing with the aftershocks of some major shifts in my life. i’ve found myself saying “no” more and more to invitations to perform, judge pageants, and basically anything drag related. i even stepped down from The Kiki Queens. Not because i don’t love it anymore, but because something else that has lived inside me just as long is now calling my name to embrace it.
The shift has been bittersweet and one that i wasn’t really prepared for.
i wanted to be a drag queen for so long that it never occurred to me i would want to be anything else. EVER.
But i do.
i want to be a writer.
i have always wanted to be a writer.
i’ve just been too scared to.
Being a writer scared me more than becoming a drag queen because there’s nowhere to hide on the page. i can’t duck tape my life or add top and bottom lashes to make my words appear bigger, my experiences more profound than what they are. i can’t hide the kind of person i used to be behind mounds of glitter — especially if i want to share pieces of my life story. Because readers can smell a rat. They can tell when a writer is not being truthful. Or when they falsify experiences (remember the James Frey A Million Little Pieces Oprah fiasco?!?).
And even though i spoke my truth in every performance i did, you’d have to really pay attention to catch glimpses of who i am. But on the page, it’s all there.
And that scares the shit out me.
Which is also why i’ve waited so long.
But there comes a point when waiting begins to resemble death and the pieces of you that once dreamed a dream begin to fall off and die.
And i don’t want to be fractured. Not now. Not ever.
So, i write. All day ‘err day. And i say no to things (yes, even drag) that would pull my energy, pull my focus from who i’m trying to be right now:
A writer who shares her truth no matter how ugly it is so that you and others can leave the story a little bit braver than you were before.
The page has become my stage. Maybe just for now. Or maybe forever.
i don’t know what the future holds but, for now, i’m content to just keep typing.
Wherever you are on your journey to becoming who it is you’re meant or desire to be, i hope these words serve you in helping you get a little further down the road than you were before.
i fucking adore you.
P.S. Wanna read what i’ve been up to? (And get the scoop on what’s up with the picture?) In honor of world book day, i’m giving away a free sneak peek of my new memoir tentatively titled, The Art of Becoming. It’s 100% free! Enter your info below (if see your info disappear after hitting ‘i wanna read it’ you’re in!), click “confirm” on email i sent ya, and *POOF* like magic it appears in your inbox! Besos!!