The book captures short stories of queer people of South Asian descent with the goal of holding onto the beauty of a community-focused culture – while letting go of the harmful biases and hatred that stain it. I was living in a country that created laws to protect queer people but in a house that rejected them.īecause true power lies in intersectionality, I wrote a book titled “I Hope You’ll Still Love Me” to bring all parts of myself together. This was reinforced by the tension of living in a South Asian Catholic household in South Africa. Yet I repeatedly heard that queer rights were a “white issue,” which forced me to keep two important parts of myself separate. At an early age, I got involved in racial justice work and LGBTQIA+ activism. Growing up in India and South Africa, I learned that protesting was a form of storytelling. Being united has never been more important – helping Ukraine, supporting LGBTQIA+ communities and all people there should be everyone’s utmost goal. While some lay claim to borders, I see how our fights for freedom and LGBTQIA+ equity and inclusion truly have no borders. But I’m also inspired when I see so many LGBTQIA+ people in Ukraine standing up to defend the country and their freedoms. It feels like a drag back to the inglorious past. That’s why Russia’s invasion of Ukraine hits so close to home. Yet there’s a long way to go to be truly inclusive and accepting societies. Some of our countries made progress, removing identity-based discriminatory policies. I’ve seen my experiences reflected in the stories of so many friends across Kazakhstan, Georgia, Ukraine and Russia.
Being a gay person in Kazakhstan was hard – as it was for many in countries that gained independence after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. I was born and raised in Kazakhstan, a country in the middle of Central Asia with a complex mix of cultural, political, historical and religious heritages.