Transcript: Ice Queen

ICE QUEEN

by Bo Justin Xiao

I was trained as a figure skater as a kid, almost got sent to China’s national training camp. Back then I was obsessed with this Chinese American skater - Michelle Kwan and she was my idol, my ‘queen on ice’, and I wanted to be her. One day during training I failed a jump, a double Salchow or something, and I remember that moment vividly. My coach skated to me and said to me, ‘you are probably too old to continue’. Well, I was 8! Yeah, tough environment to grow up. Eventually I think the dream of becoming a queen on ice still came true, or should I say, I became a queen, on a different kind of ice. 

 At 21, I was a new migrant who spoke very little English, a young gay man who recently became HIV positive, and had just survived my second suicide attempt. Oxford Street was memorising, people partied hard, but every DNA magazine featured a cis White muscle guy on its cover. In 2010, HIV wasn’t like what it is today, there wasn’t a movement called Black Lives Matter, and no one marched on the street to free Palestine. I was born in a half Catholic, half Muslim family in northern China. Being a gay man, it felt wrong, and growing up there’s just so much rage and shame. I remembered this feeling of being a defective product, that is unwanted by default. 

 One day, I met this guy whose name’s Robert on Gaydar.net. He was handsome and chatty. Robert explained Aussie slangs, showed me Tom of Finland, played Kylie Minogue and drag shows, organised sex parties, he showed me a whole new world I didn't know existed. He opened my eyes, my mind, and, a few other things. The first time I overdosed on GHB, he was inside me. I remember hearing him saying ‘don’t fall babe, I’m behind you, stand up, I’ve got you’. I thought I was dying. Like how the French describes a specific post-orgasm sensation with the term ‘la petite mort’, or the little death. 

 Some people use substances to avoid their internal emotions. To me, it was the opposite. Drugs provided me a platform for expression. The words I was yet to learn, the awkwardness I experienced every time I show vulnerability, the desire of being authentic and free, drugs gave me permission. Doing drugs was like learning a new language, and I could finally speak. 

 Others might describe Robert as “white trash”, but he was my kind of trash. Sometimes hearing someone else says “me too” can be so powerful. One time I bought Robert a new outfit from David Jones. A mint green G-STAR t-shirt, some light washed blue denim, and a pair of white Nike TNs. The complete eshay starter pack. He couldn’t quite believe that I would spend all my money to buy “nice things” for him.  I saw him so self-consciously opened the shopping bag and later he was secretly scuffing his own new shoes, as if he didn’t deserve anything nice in life. I saw myself in him. We were just two human beings who felt we didn't deserve love. 

 Foolish me, I was so in love with him. But Robert had built his life on being a fuckboy, not a boyfriend. The only couple-y thing we did together was going to see Whitney Houston in Sydney. Whitney didn't do very well in that concert, and just how she couldn’t hit the right note for ‘I Will Always Love You’, the story of Robert and I also ended with a sour note. After one disastrous night, we parted our ways. 

 15 years ago, in one of these flats, I made the decision to open a door that I could never close again for the rest of my life. To this day, I have no regrets. I insist! ZERO! When I reflect on the life I’ve been living since I started using drugs, I feel fortunate. What a ride it has been! What a full spectrum of emotions! 

 No one has seen Robert for many years, I don’t know what happened to him, or if he’s still alive; but I am most proud of my fellow people who use drugs. Your wisdom and kindness are the reasons I wake up every day. This story isn’t just for the then 21-year-old innocent me, but for anyone who craves acceptance, joy, and love.