My Intuition Is a Tired Old Queen
How I finally broke out of the constant loop of self-sabotage.
Each week, The Queer Love Project publishes an original essay. Want to submit your essay and add to our growing archive? Find our submission guidelines and more here.
This is a guest post by Ryan Sheldon, adapted from his book, F*ckboys Are Boring: A Gay Man’s Guide to Dating (For Everyone). You can read his QLP Questionnaire here for more about his journey.
I imagine my intuition as this worn-out drag queen, standing on the porch, smoking cigarettes. I call her Stella Starlight. She used to waste her breath trying to warn me when she smelled trouble. First, she’d whisper. Then she’d raise her voice to get my attention. Eventually, she was jumping up and down, waving her wig above her head, and screaming, “Wake up, you fool!” It was exhausting. She broke too many nails and ruined too many wigs trying to stop my clueless ass from making yet another tragic mistake.
When she got tired of yelling, Stella gave up and just leaned back in her satin boudoir robe, taking long drags from a Virginia Slim and rolling her eyes as she watched me skip through the gay city streets with the latest fuckboy. She let the smoke out with a sigh, knowing the shame storm that was coming to her already weathered house.
And when I came crawling back to cry on her faded Marabou slippers, she’d say, “Honey, I tried to tell you.” It was always the same sad story. I’d wallow with my head in her lap, whining about my problems, and she’d listen as if she hadn’t heard it a million times before. Stella was sick and tired of trying to look after me, especially when I wasn’t listening. I was the reason she smoked three packs a day and didn’t have time to get her nails done or shop for new wigs.
With her eyes cast on the horizon longing for a better life, she’d run her chipped manicure through my hair and say, “I know, honey. I know.”
If I was ever going to learn my lessons, I knew I needed to develop a meaningful relationship with Stella. Something remarkable happened when I started listening to her. I was finally able to break out of the constant loop of self-sabotage.
I’m proud to say that Stella is now down to half a pack a day, and her wigs are gorgeous. All she has to do is clear her throat or tap her foot, and my ears perk up. That queen deserves to be heard. She deserves respect. She tells me that I deserve respect too, and you know what? I have actually started to listen to her.
