I don't know.
In grade four, maybe into five, even before the word "gay" held stereotypical meaning to me, I fit it. I wasn't into sports. I used flappy hand gestures. I crossed my legs because I found it comfortable. I don't know why I've been thinking about this, but I have. And it's gotten me wondering: I didn't know what the "gay" stereotype was. I didn't even know that I was that way, therefore, I wasn't trying to consciously conform to what I thought I was supposed to be. It was just like that. Is that normal?
Fast forward to grade seven.
I now knew what gay meant. Oh, did I know. And I saw, and actively smothered, every aspect of myself that could be associated with it. I tried to push myself away from it. I kept watch over myself, to see if any of that "gay accent" (which makes me wince, anyway), was starting to creep into my voice. I really, really didn't want my classmates figuring the gay thing out.
I was surprised that they hadn't already started on me, because in the end, it's not actually being the bad guy that gets you killed, but appearing to be it.
But, now that I think about it, I was already protected by a stereotype. The "brainiac" shaded film that the other guys saw me through was protecting me from them seeing me as something else. Literally, they were blinded by their preconceptions. To my advantage, of course.
But that's not what I wanted to write about. I've been thinking, and I've been wondering. About me. It's just that I've been acting the "smart one" of the grade, a straight one nonetheless, for so long, that I think that fictional person I've been giving to other people has become a truth. It's not like it's having any real affect on my sexuality, but it's having an affect on how much of it I let filter through. But it's still changing how I act, and, I don't know, it's becoming...automatic. Almost natural.
Now that I'm contemplating it, I think a lot of people might do that: they give people what they want to see, or expect to see of them. I can't be the only one. If I'm right (and, please, contradict me), so many people are playing charades with so many others, that barely anybody is who they appear to be to others.
I don't know.
Maybe it's just me. Or maybe it's just me being a drama queen.
But still, it seems true now that I say it.
To be frank, I honestly don't know anymore how much of me was there to begin with, and how much of me was fabricated in a self-inflicted, 1984-esque reality correction.
I just don't know.