Coming Out of the Temporal Closet
How to deal with aging by denying it’s even happening
This morning, as on December 28th every year, I found myself deeply triggered and bound in a strong-gripped fetal position on my bed as I listened to the eternal pinging of Facebook notifications on my phone.
My birthed-day had come.
For year-queers such as myself, it can be a particularly troubling day, emotionally, but really just another hellish reminder of the Calendro-normative constructs that dominate our society.
December 28th, 1987, the date I was birthed with, is really just another day for me; it wasn’t until I had met people born on February 5th, 1988 that I understood who I really was: a date-fluid, year-queer.
Let’s not forget many famous people including Jesus Christ — ever heard of him? — were calender-benders: biblical scholars in noting Jesus’ year of birth put it between 6 BC and 2 AD — even the Messiah couldn’t be forced to accept society's datist orthodoxy by nailing down a birthday.
This year, as I celebrate not my birthday but the day that was my birthday, the day I was birthed, my birthed-day, and also the day I decided to say “not today!” to today, I want to encourage other year-queers, trans-annos, cross-menses, and our anti-datist allies to come out of the temporal closet and join me and the thousands of older women and men who have been fighting this battle for generations; people who the mainstream call “liars” when they distort their “birth” birth year to reflect their true heterocontextuality.
My Aunt Diane has turned 43 for the last 12 years, and we are proud of her courage and support her wholly.
This year is also one of deep reflection as I look back on some of the losses in this community. May God rest the original year-queer, Zsa-Zsa Gabor who with the help of a legion of skilled Hollywood surgeons continually updated her birth year until her body was forced to give in to the oppressive cultural forces of aging.
But there is hope on the horizon, America has just elected a man who through a powerful combination of modern medicine, ancient alchemy, and deft styling-skills has halted the aging process completely and created a totally believable awesome haircut, which everyone buys is not a combover.
With a victory for visibility and new hope for the future of people who identify as year-queers, I can’t help but smile and say, “bring it on 2017. My birthday’s a-comin’ up!”
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