04/26/2026
I shared something on Threads yesterday that I've been asked to share here as well…
I'm not going to lie, the whole KevOnStage discourse about LGBTQ+ people triggered me because it is actually devastating and heartbreaking the things that q***r people have experienced and continue to go through, specifically Black q***r people.
Like when I was a kid, a letter was sent to my house on church letterhead, telling my mother that I was gay and that if she didn’t do something about it, they would. I was in seventh grade.
Do you know what it is like as a child to walk around the world, in fear that at any moment someone could take your life just because they don’t like the fact that you gotta switch in your walk or talk with expression, or because you’re creative? At that age, I understood that being more of the issue was because I wasn't saying it yet. It never felt like people didn’t like that I was gay.
It was that they didn’t like my femininity, and they wanted me to be more manly and tough instead of just letting me exist, because how in the world could I be bothering anyone when I’m here just playing make-believe. I remember the fear; it got to the point where I would plan my bathroom trips to ensure no one would be there, and if I walked in and another boy was there, I would leave.
That's because boys would make up false stories about me, trying to turn me gay in an attempt to get me beaten up or to save face. They would send carnations to basketball players with my name on it, to which I would have to explain that it wasn't me in fear of retaliation. Or being in elementary and having my head pushed into the sandbox and being called a sissy. I always found the idea that my q***rness was a choice because why would I choose that? But that's why I loved entertaining people; it became my shield. If I entertained people, they left me alone. A laugh can disarm anyone.
That's why many q***r people are loud, extra, or over the top. It's a defense mechanism. It's the gay charm. Laugh so hard that you forget that you actually can't stand me. I learned this because while I experienced my own share of bullying, it always remained more of a threat, like a directive. “Perform, and we won't kill you.” But I saw how they treated the more meek, timid, or quiet, and it was more dangerous because it was silent—never said. Never talked about, but it lurked in the shadows.
That didn't sit right with me. I think, naturally, I'm not as feminine as I am in my professional life. Still, I knew that with a platform, I could help normalize those who were being preyed on—the people who hold genius and creativity but will never get the shine. Let's put it into perspective: think of all the q***r people in entertainment who may have had success, but there's always been a ceiling. Think of the era of the beauty YouTuber.
Did any of the q***r black boys and girls get makeup product deals? White q***r people can do the bare minimum and be treated like A-List stars! Meanwhile, the black q***r people in this business get bullied, torn apart, and highly criticized. Even watching the Kev stuff, a piece of me was envious because I was like, " Wow, y'all would never go up for a q***r person like this.
But I do think that's changing because it's been endearing to see the love and support for Durand, as, for so long, he was treated as an outcast, regardless of his talent. But yes, thank you for joining my rant. Just make sure you ride for him even in his imperfections or stumbles. Don't be conditional because we've only been loved our whole lives conditionally.
