Feeling at Home in Louisville: Josiah
Photo by Sarah Davis
Queer Kentucky has partnered with Louisville Magazine for our fourth print issue. We asked Louisvillians and Kentuckians at large about their queerness and its relationship to the city, where they feel at home, who was there for them when it felt like nobody else was, the biggest issues facing Louisville’s queer communities, and much more. In this issue, you will find stories of Queer Kentuckians telling tales of their beloved safe spaces, paying tribute to the loved ones who uplifted them when no one else would, laughing about their coming out stories, and so much more. Kentucky, and Louisville, have a lot of work left to do when it comes to embracing the queer community. But hey, it’s not as bad as people think it is. Read on, you’ll see. You can purchase the print version of this issue here.
Old Louisville, he/him
Who was there for you when it felt like nobody else was?
My friend Stephanie. I began working with her almost ten years ago, and eventually we became friends. She took me under her wing in many ways. I see her as sort of my queer mom. I think we bonded over shared mental and physical illnesses and also over being nerdy and weird. She is surly and bisexual and darkly funny and has a binder of Stardew Valley information.When everyone else had somehow abandoned or betrayed me, she was there still to reach out to. She’s been a constant supporter from my teenage years into adulthood, and I can’t picture what my life would look like without her in it.
Who was the person you chose to come out to?
I first came out to a Christian youth counselor, and when I did, I couldn’t say the words myself. I simply told him I had something to tell him. I sat in silence for a long time, and he eventually began listing all the things young people had told him, from their engag- ing in self-harm to perverted things like molesting their siblings. Eventually he said ‘gay,’ and I nodded at that one. He was the first person I had trusted, and it was largely because he seemed to be my friend and hung out with me despite my ‘oddities’ — what I now know to be autistic traits.
What piece of art — a book, a painting, a movie, a TV show, etc. — means the most to you?
Steven Universe. Over the course of the show, it becomes an analogy for healing from family trauma, queer identity. It is also just very pretty to look at.
Anything about how you identify that you’d like to share?
I’ve been exploring the nuances of terming myself agender vs. non-binary, and how the two are different and how they might overlap.
