Part 1-"Unfuckable With": Queer Resilience Manifesto

💎 Unfuckable with.

Not louder. Not harder. Not untouchable.

It’s the moment you refuse to hand your peace over to someone else’s chaos.

It’s resilience with a queer heartbeat — the softness that survives, the wholeness that doesn’t shatter.

Minority stress may press heavy, but our chosen families, our stories, our refusal to absorb shame? That’s the medicine. That’s what makes us unfuckable with.

🎙️ Episode 1 of our new mini-series is live: What Does “Unfuckable With” Really Mean?

We’re redefining strength for queer lives — less armor, more aliveness.

Transcript

Quincy: 0:00

It's going to focus around the topic of Unfuckable with and what does that really mean, especially in the LGBT community, in light of everything that keeps happening, It's something bad. I want this to be more of a movement, more of a training on how to keep people from getting under your skin. that unfuck ability. Unfuckable with, it's the kind of phrase that stops you mid scroll, bold and a little dangerous. At first, it sounds like swagger, a shield and armor. But what if it's softer than that? What if it's not about being untouchable, but about being rooted so deeply in yourself that no storm can move you? That's the heartbeat of the conversation today. So this phrase has many lives. Some writers say being unfuckable with is about calm presence. Not aired against, not domination, hello, somebody in the White House. Just knowing yourself so fully that you don't need to fight for validation. Others describe it as not giving away your peace to anyone else's chaos. We've all been there, right? You see somebody spiraling out, I go the opposite direction. I do not wanna be in someone's spiral. I love the tension though between the Internet's brash definition of unstoppable and the quieter truth. Unfuckable with isn't about being the loudest person in the room. It's about caring a steadiness that no one can steal. You walk into the room, you give your talk at work, you get some side eyes, and you just. stay in that place that you know what you've shared, what you've researched, what you've brought to the table is a really valuable point. Same thing, it's Thanksgiving and your parents or your aunt or someone else at the table starts saying, why do we have to teach about L-G-B-T-Q issues in school anyway? You stay calm. Use the lens of being unfuckable and also saying, can you tell me the story behind why that bothers you so much? That gives them a reframe. It takes you completely out of the equation and lets them sit there and think about what it is that makes them so uncentered and fucked with because they don't believe that. There should be L-G-B-T-Q studies at school that there should be, history about slavery. That there should be information and constant living side by side with Native American communities that have been pushed to the side about trans people not being able to use the restrooms that they feel they should be using. a queer reframing, but here's where it gets real for us. For queer and trans people. Being unfuckable with isn't just a philosophy, it's actually survival because we are constantly having to defend our place in the world Especially now in this country, every little thing we do is taken and put under the microscope and examined and cross hatched and stabbed and hung out to dry. And we're still the same people that we've been. We're still contributing to society. we pay taxes, we raise beautiful families. We buy cars. We buy real estate. We have investments. We havegreat retirement portfolios. We have, businesses that help other people gain wealth and things like this. We are still part of this society, so everyday life asks us to carry weight that others don't see. Rejection and visibility and the sharp edges of prejudice. Researchers call it minority stress. And that's the chronic pressure that eats away at our health without us even knowing it. We are definitely changing that epigenetic process for the next generations. Whether we give birth to offspring or not, we are showing the next generation what it's like to live today. My middle schooler is looking at me and asking me, mommy, should we be afraid? Should I be worried? My 12-year-old shouldn't be asking me that about living in a very progressive state, which is California, and yet it's still on her mind. I can't imagine what it's like living in the South for gay families. It just, it absolutely breaks my heart. And yet there's resilience. Not the kind that pretends pain doesn't exist, right? But the kind that knows even here, even now, that we can adapt. We can draw our strength from within and from each other, which is why queer communities are so important. Lesbian bars, gay bars, drag shows, drag king shows, queer nights at Disneyland, at, wherever it is that you like to go. pride Weeks, pride Parades. All of these things help people on the edge feel noticed. Right. We're talking about, indigenous People's Day. We're talking about Juneteenth, we're talking about, D de Los Muertos. They're not even having that in LA this year because they're too afraid of too many people getting picked up that don't have the right to be picked up because they've been here legally working, putting their children through school. and yet the resilience is that we have our chosen families. We build these, we tell stories and we retell them about ourselves the way we refuse to let shame have that last word. There is no shame in being a bipoc L-G-B-T-Q person, person with no labels at all. There is no shame in that because what is the story? We all have the same blood, the same bones, the same skin molecules, the same brain cells. All of that is the same. We are the same, and we are different. Yes, we're different, but we're different because we are asking people to love everyone, to accept everyone to experiment in, however, in whatever way your life takes you and to enjoy that. We're not talking about hurting people, we're talking about just living our lives like your next door neighbor. They have the freedom to drive in and out actual garage, or walk out of their front door or their back door and have that safety of knowing when they walk out that door, they're not being judged on anything, on what they wear, on how they look, on how they talk, on how, what their mannerisms are. That we are just the same. Picture a queer teenager. this is a moment in real time. Picture a queer teenager in the hallway, someone sneering at them. Why do people have to shove it in our faces? The air goes still. That's the kind of moment that can cut you down, cut you like a knife, but make you into this feeling like the smallest person in the world. But being unfuckable with makes room for another possibility. They breathe, they look up, and instead of crumbling or snapping back at that person, they say, that's interesting. What makes you feel so strongly about that? It's not surrender. It's not silence. It's a refusal to hand over that dignity. It's the art of slowing down an attack so it doesn't land where it was meant to please people. We've got to teach this to the youth, our trans youth, especially because it is so much more obvious for them in so many different instances because they're not yet at the age for gender affirming care, that they still need that opportunity to dress the way that they want to, to wear jewelry the way that they want to, to paint their nails the way that they want to, and to have the courage to say, that's interesting. What makes you feel this way? What's the story behind that? Why does this give you so much pain? I said before, it takes that power away from them, takes you out of the equation and lets them sit in their uncomfortability, lets them try to figure out what is going on in their head. when I talk about being unfuckable with, I'm not talking about pretending life doesn't hurt, I'm talking about weaving strength out of the hurt. So it looks like this hidden trait. In you that surfaces when the world tests you. It's a circle of queer, kinship chosen family who hold you up when blood or law refuses to, and it's a quiet practice of telling your story in ways that don't let shame dictate the ending. And maybe most importantly, it's not about being hard, it's about being whole. Right. Being fuckable with means you are both soft and steady, vulnerable and unshaken. It's not armor, it's aliveness, and that to me is resilience at its most radical. that is the end of episode one of this five part mini series that I'm doing. it's just a way for me to help people get in. To a tactical type of coping with story making, with phrasing so that you can go out there and you can protest and you can be at Thanksgiving table, you can be at the Yom Kippur fast breaking table. You can sit, on Juneteenth with your family and celebrate at a barbecue and people that don't understand you. Will have time to reflect for themselves. They will stop fucking with us. Hopefully, that is the goal here and that we do it with such grace that people come to see us as actual other human living, breathing, heart beating, blood pumping, pleasure, loving humans. Well, thanks for joining me, you guys. I hope you enjoyed this short episode. I love you. Please share this with people. Please give me a review if you get a chance or at least shoot me some stars, that would be awesome. I want people around the world to be able to hear these podcasts, and the only way we can do that is with visibility. And since the show is all about visibility, let's share the love. I know you're probably driving, it's the last thing you're thinking about, or you're folding laundry, doing dishes. Picking up dog poop in the backyard, whatever it is. But if you could just take a few seconds before you drop your head to the pillow tonight and leave a review, that would be amazing and share it with friends. Love you so much. Have a great night.