I get involved in situations where other people would rather I not.
Example? Whenever little girls come into my shop and start looking at toys that far too many people think are “for boys,” and their parent (usually their father but not always) says something like “those are Hot Wheels. You don’t like those, you’re a girl.”
Well, when the parent goes off to look at something else, I ask the little girl, quite softly, if she likes Hot Wheels. Most of the time it’s yes, and so I tell her that it is perfectly okay for little girls to love Hot Wheels, and that I know collectors, who are girls, who have THOUSANDS of Hot Wheels, and their little eyes will light up and I will nod.
Why?
Because fuck you and your lack of imagination if you think someone is limited by their gender, their color, their ethnicity, their ability or disability. Fuck you if you can’t even let your heart be open enough to allow your child the ability to discover for themselves who they actually are inside, and what they like, what their interests are, and I will continue to meddle because I will be the antithesis to your ignorance everywhere I go.
This applies to more than just gender roles, toys, and the like, but I like that example because I act on it all of the time. The same applies for boys who happen to like some of the stuffed animals we have in our shop. I tell them that when I was a child, I had a stuffed lion that I adored, and that I still collect stuffed animals, my favorite being a little purple bear I keep in my room on my desk.
Why?
Because life is too short and precious for the human experience to be blunted by the thoughtless dullards who can’t conceive of something outside of their limited experiences with the world at large.
I don’t use the term “guilty pleasure” anymore because I don’t limit my likes and wants by other people’s fears and doubts.
I wear provocative shirts, and by provocative I don’t mean sexually suggestive or anything like that, I mean I am a masculine presenting person in my mid 40s (I look like a lumberjack who got fired for eating all of the lunches in the break room while everyone else was out chopping wood), and my shirts are often bright, with unicorns on them, or brilliant rainbow colors, or I wear my hats that say “this mom runs on coffee and magic,” or my favorite new pink hat which says “Damn, I should have called in thicc today.”
Why?
Why don’t I just mind my own business?
Because there are people who have no idea that other people like me exist, that there are options available to them other than the sheer drudgery of the life in which they have found themselves. My own life is a thread of chaotic mess of exhaustion, fear of missing out, loss, and grief, but I keep punching holes of joy in that fabric, and I will do my goddamndest to breathe, as often as I can, the rich oxygen of change, of diversity, of variety, of the unknown, the things that add spice to our very existence.
I will do that until I draw my last breath, because I like to meddle, and opening the eyes and the hearts of people who honestly think there is nothing more to life than the strict roles they’ve resigned themselves to is something I believe should be done, and so I will do it. I will meddle.
.Red
