I have been unable to stop crying about Prince’s passing. Sure, I loved his music, but honestly, falling apart like this over a stranger is weird—even for me. I think I’ve figured it out: I’m moderately positive Prince is my root!
I remember being a kid watching music videos with my cousins, sitting through the endless stream of sunglass clad R&B beefcakes singing into giant cell phones about “licking me up and down until I say stop”, all the while drawing not much more than a deep sigh from me. But then, Prince’s latest poured out of the television and onto me like a hurricane: “If I gave you Diamonds and Pearls, would you be a happy boy or a girl? If I could I would give you the world. But all I can do is just offer you my love”.
Gender and presentation are such big deals. They define so much of what the world expects for you. And yet, there was Prince, in all his lavender, lace and eye shadow, defying all expectations. Not man, not woman, not straight, not gay, something else entirely. I fell in love with him immediately.
It’s the same with the boi (my partner) and I. Seeing him give the middle finger to all the expectations is one of the sexiest things about him. It takes so much strength to live in the in between. I watched him wrestle with embracing his femininity, while still embracing manhood. I watched him struggle with fitting into Trans spaces and in queer spaces. I struggled through acknowledging we were equal parts hard butch and soft femme. Once I did, I fell in love with him immediately. Just like Prince, he empowered me to do my own thing.
Now, we gush over lace cowl necks and fret about the return of the Brooke Shields eyebrow trend. We discuss rhinestone quality and the best way to apply them to blazers. We share statement scarves. He’s still a man and I’m still his sapphic bae. Not two women, not two men, not straight, not gay, but rather, something else entirely.
