Fag Hag Support
Fag Hags United
For all girls who love gay boys.
Flame Dame Publications
Creating a magazine just for fag hags.
Definition of a Fag Hag by Margaret Cho
"A fag hag is a woman who prefers the company of gay men. The marriage of two derogatory terms, fag and hag, symbolizing the union of the world's most popular objects of scorn, homosexual and woman, creates a moniker that most of those who wear it find inoffensive, possibly because it smacks of solidarity.
"Many of us did not plan to become fag hags, we just looked around one day and realized that was what we were.
"Whatever road you take, when you get there, be good to the men in your life and let them take care of you. Know that what you have is precious and holy. Remember, regardless of sexual orientation, men and women will always need each other." --Margaret Cho
Read the full excerpt at
Fag Hag is not a dirty phrase.
|At first I did not really grasp the meaning behind the phrase. With time, though, I have accepted its use as a term of endearment. On the few occasions when it is used as a slur, it simply acts as an indicator that someone needs remedial education in tolerance and acceptance of others.
||The longer I've known my circle of gay friends, the more I've been called a fag hag. What did that mean? It turns out that it has the same love-it-or-hate-it reputation as other words, like 'b'tch' or 'fat' - do those words offend? Or are they reclaimed and given power?
Paisley Blue and the GLBT Community
We're Different in the Same Way
GLBT and the Seattle Scene
To me, gay people were different.
Before moving to Seattle, I did not know many openly gay people. Down South it was just not safe to be 'different,' and if
you were, it was best to not attract too much attention. Of the handful of gay men I knew, each one faced discrimination
in nearly every aspect of their lives. It just did not seem very smart, from my perspective, to share your personal business.
Then I became different.
In my mid-20's I followed the yearnings of my heart and began walking the path of a witch. I knew that my decision came with some
serious consequences, though. Similar to my gay acquaintances, I knew there could be a high price for following my magickal ways.
In the whispered conversations of pagans behind locked doors, I heard of others whose businesses were picketed by congregational groups,
families with small children who had been burned out of their homes during the night, divorced mothers who had their children taken away
by the state, people who lost their jobs, and were even attacked in plain daylight - all because they believed differently. Some of the
people I knew; others I did not.
Closing the closet door.
In order to maintain safety, to prevent losing jobs, homes, to keep from being disowned by a strictly fundamentalist family, and to avoid the painful, sometimes violent,
prejudice that exists back home, I stayed deep in the broom closet.
I understand what it means to be "in the closet." Back home, if you were different, you didn't want to let it show. Every now
and then someone would throw open the door, take a figurative stand and shout, "I can't take it anymore - I'm coming out!" The harsh
consequences soon followed and my decision to keep a vital part of myself hidden away was reinforced.
My secret was starting to show.
I often felt like an oddball. It was becoming apparent that I liked different things than before, and I associated with
different kinds of people. I was living with the knowledge that I was secretly different, too. With all the changes
that happened at the turn of the millenium, I underwent a few changes as well. I wanted a place where I could be me in the open, to
be free. Moving to Seattle seemed like the answer.
Secrets not needed in Seattle.
I landed in Seattle with little, but I did have the good fortune to land on Capital Hill. With a mixture of surprise and delight, I
discovered acceptance from members of the gay community in Seattle. At first I timidly opened the closet door, but with the support
and encouragement of many wonderful people, it wasn't long before I took my turn to throw that door open and shout, "I'm coming out."
It wasn't the same kind of coming out that folks on the Hill were used to, but they were right there with me, backing me up.
Still different, but I belong.
Since moving here in August 2000, I have enjoyed the sweetest of freedoms - to simply be myself and live my life as I see fit,
building my world and exploring everything around me. I have developed a large circle of friends, predominantly composed of gay men, and
they are as wonderfully different and unique as any group of humans could be. I am still different - it still catches me off guard
if there's another female in the bar. Often I am the token straight person in a room. Sometimes I am the only non-Christian, too.
On the other hand, though, the ways that we are different do not matter so much. That's what keeps everything interesting. Best of
all, I fit right in.
GLBT - what's that?
Ever wonder what those letters means? It's an acronym for "Gay - Lesbian - Bisexual - Transgender" and, from what I have read, is meant to encompass the majority of people
living sexually alternative lifestyles. Most of the time, though, you would never know if someone belongs to the GLBT community unless they told you.
There are no identifying features or disfigurements, no secret hand signals or decoder rings, and No, they do not give out toasters for "turning straight people gay."
Where is everyone at?
There is a neighborhood in Seattle known as Capital Hill where it seems a majority of gay people like to hang out. Most of the gay-oriented bars and
shopping establishments can be found within those few city blocks. However, there are little enclaves and outposts in nearly ever suburb and
urban neighborhood, so again, the stereotype of "them" all living in one area does not hold true.
What makes Cap Hill special?
You are just as likely to find college students, street kids, escapees from the 'burbs and an assortment of other people hanging out on the Hill.
After all, if you build a fun establishment or open a bar that has exciting events and great prices, the paying public will come. Every year there is
the annual Gay Pride Parade down the middle of Broadway, and whether you love it or hate it, lots of people participate in it and stay on the sidelines
watching it go by.
Organizations with tiaras.
The International Court System is represented here with the annual election of an Emperor and Empress. There are multitudinous fund-raisers,
pageants, and traditional activities that support the whole court system. Court activities and shows are generally well-attended, fun to watch, and
the money they raise goes to support different human service agencies on the Hill, and a special scholarship fund. It would be difficult
to think of another segment of the population that raises as much money for charity.
Men dressed as women?
If you try to think of gay people and you get a mental image of men dressing up as women, wearing more make-up than any woman outside a Hollywood sound
stage, dripping sequins and feathers or rhinestones, chances are good that you have just visualized a drag queen. Not all female impersonators are drag
queens, I am told, but I don't fully know the difference yet.
Be outrageous... or not... just be you.
Then there are other groups who dress up in one way or another, such as the Knights of Malta who wear leather, and the Sisters
of Perpetual Indulgence who wear spectacularly accessorized nun habits. So again, there's no stereotype to fall back on. When my
roommate and I go out, he's usually wearing blue jeans and a designer casual pullover. There's something for everyone.
It's Not All Perfect... Yet
I have seen firsthand the ugliness of gay bashing. I was subject to harrassment myself, when others thought I was gay (Gay Pride Day 2002).
Around that same time, a new roommate moved into our home. She was barely tolerant of homosexuality, despite the fact that the other two roommates were gay.
One was a little more open about it than the other, but if nothing else, the Seattle Gay Times newspaper and the pride rainbow decorating everything
could have been a clue.
Using lots of patience and working hard to maintain an open dialogue, we all tried to expose the misinformation, refute the stereotypes and chase away the
prejudice. In their place we offered clear answers, facts and examples, plus the best argument of all - the experience of interacting every day with two
adult gay men.
I believe that - over time - we helped her see that fundamentally there are no differences between us.
We all need one another. Each of us have gifts and talents to share. We are given moments of inspiration that occur just exactly when
another person needs it most. When you get down to brass tacks, everybody is different in one way or another.
- We all are flesh-and-blood humans.
- We all want to be accepted and loved.
- We all have feelings that can be hurt and disappointed.
- We all yearn for close, supportive and intimate relationships.
- We all have hopes and dreams and aspirations.
I just don't see any point in perpetuating anything that keeps humans apart from one another. If I can help you, I will. If you can
help someone in need, I hope you will. If each of us who are different stand together, there will be no one for us to stand against.