Queerness is Like a Recipe I Keep Adjusting

My queerness never turned out the way I thought it would. I used to think identity was something you figured out once — like following a recipe. You measure, mix, bake, and voilà: something solid you can finally name. But mine has always been a little unpredictable. A pinch too much here, a substitution there, a taste that keeps evolving.

I used to want a final version — the one that made sense to everyone else. The version that didn’t make my family uncomfortable or confuse people who thought they already had me figured out. But queerness doesn’t stay still long enough to be boxed up neatly. It changes when you do.

Sometimes it’s subtle, like realizing the songs that once made me ache now make me feel whole. Sometimes it’s loud — like saying something out loud for the first time and hearing the echo of truth in my own voice. It’s trial and error. It’s burning a few batches. It’s learning to trust that even when things fall apart, something good is still possible.

Cooking taught me that flavour lives in the process — the tasting, adjusting, and making a mess. Queerness is like that too. It’s not about performing perfection; it’s about staying curious enough to keep showing up for yourself.

Some days I feel certain and bold, like I could feed the world with who I am. Other days I’m quiet, cautious, unsure what I’m making but knowing it still matters. Either way, I’m here — tasting, stirring, rewriting the recipe as I go.

And maybe that’s the whole point. Queerness isn’t meant to be mastered; it’s meant to be lived in — savored, shared, and constantly remade.

If you’re somewhere in the middle of your own recipe — still figuring out the right mix of honesty, care, and courage — that’s okay. You’re not behind. You’re just cooking something that takes time.

Written By: Aliyah Rooplal