Everyone Belongs ≠ Everyone is Equal

What if my fear of not belonging is misplaced empathy?

Topics include: Queer shame and a toxic inner critic’s quotes

Op-Ed by Tegwen, Co-Founder of Quamp

A lot of people are asking me,

“Who is this Quamp really for?”

Even though we’ve said, “everyone queer belongs, no questions asked, just show up”. I believe that, but maybe it’s leaving something out… and maybe you feel that too.

“Do we always all belong?”

As a white transmasc intersex nonbinary neurodivergent ace bisexual— *catches breath* —I have that intersectional “no-singular-group-is-right-for-me” thing. I feel too intersex for trans spaces, too trans for cis spaces, too neurodivergent for “all queers” spaces, too ace for sexy spaces. The list gets a bit exhausting.

That used to make me feel lonely, even feel like those spaces aren’t fair and should change.

Then something in me changed.

I want MORE spaces.

Because there should be a space for gay cis men to talk about stigma. Hell, there should be a space far away for white-cis-het men to work on their shit too! (please don’t invite me to that camp as a guest speaker, i’m busy that weekend). 

In other words, there should be spaces that close the door on you or me… and that's okay! And then there should be spaces for all queers to go on a vacation and feel that we belong.

And now there is that space… Quamp!

I won’t feel a level of “sameness” I would feel in a non-existent ‘intersex-transmasc-nonbinary-neurodivergent-ace-bisexual meet-up’, but I’ll feel a hell of a lot comfier than at my local public pool.

“But, am I queer enough to go to Quamp?”

Many queer people are in recent stages of discovery and acceptance. Alicia’s last article called out and described queer imposter syndrome perfectly. There is a cacophony of “am I enough?” coming from our inner critics.

I can not emphasize this enough— No queer person is more queer than another, but that “not enough” fear might be coming from impostor syndrome plus a real concern, which is when we ask,

“What is this ‘not enough’ fear trying to teach me?”

My therapist once challenged me to consider if my evil inner voices are actually an internal parent using the wrong parenting tools.

What lesson could I possibly be trying to teach myself? Tough love? Time to dye my hair?

After much thought, I noticed that when I hear “you aren’t queer enough!” it was actually my inner parent saying, “don’t take space from those who need it more.” But it didn’t know how to communicate that complex emotion and instead shouted, “SCARY! STOP!” Which was far too easy for my brain to interpret as shame and doubt. No wonder it would often result in isolation!

Once I located my inner-parent’s fear of taking up too much space, I could see that I would, in fact, leave space by not going to things like Quamp, it’s true…

I could then respond kindly with, “but I could only hold space by showing up.”

Because I actually would rather be involved in facilitating a positive environment for all queer people than tell myself I’m not in need enough to even accept an invitation for rest.

I get why I don’t want to take up space.

Queer elders get talked over.

Femininity is objectified.

Racialized queer people experience more violence.

Intersex bodies are still unprotected.

Trans people are fighting for their right to exist.

Bisexuals get erased even within queer spaces.

Queer parents get forgotten in the room.

The lived experiences of queers are vast, diverse, and overwhelming.

“I feel like I’ve had it too easy to be queer,” a date once told me.

I replied, “If you don’t experience a certain oppression or harm found in our community, that doesn’t make you less queer… it makes you more privileged.” Looking back, I was probably talking to myself.

Being aware of my privilege is not an invitation for guilt. Thank you, Black Lives Matter movement, for helping me internalize that more and more every day.

Being aware of my privilege is the beginning of showing up better, not a reason to stay home.

There are spaces where we won’t belong and spaces where we do. Quamp is intended for any LGBTQIA+ adult who enjoys the electives, location, concept, and mission.

Quamp is a love letter to the entire queer community.

“Would I have a good time if I’m still figuring it out?”

Here’s my honest answer: Someone in a place of early discovery might not have as much easy fun as someone who feels more landed in their identity, but still plenty of fun!

That’s not because figuring it out = less queerness, but because if you’re at a summer camp with queer people and your existential question right now is around your own identity, Quamp would likely be a transformative experience. An honorable option, but not what Quamp is built around.

Our dream is to be a tiny oasis of acceptance, not educators or gatekeepers.

We are not queer guides.

We are not examples.

We are your community.

We are accepting you wherever you are on your adventure.

We continue to prioritize rest, silliness, and unity here.

Some quampers are here to feel less different rather than to reflect on how different we might feel; both are valid.

Come here to talk about gay shit all day, or to set a casual boundary of “I’m not in the mood” and splish splash at the pool with the comfort of a white-cis-het-man on a cruise ship.

If that sounds good to you, then we’ll have a good time.

This Quamp was made for me and you.

We all equally belong in this space. We don’t all have the same lived experience. We all arrive at Quamp and experience peaceful breezes, countryside birdsongs, and silly little gay picnics. 

Let’s float together, held in a container of medieval walls and ancient gardens, surrounded by community.