From Maleficent to any role Vincent Price ever played, most villains are queer coded. I have always thought that is why, many assume that I am queer in some way, but I feel as if I need to come out myself. I am not queer coded, I am just a villain. I am happy that a marginalized community can connect with me, one who lives on the margins of the king’s precious society. But I hope they can accept me for who I am; an ageless, hell-bent horror.
There is of course nothing wrong with being queer, some of my favorite loathsome bog-witches and avenging old-gods are. However, I worry that if I do not set the record straight, some may believe that my night to night existence is in some way, “queer baiting.” I want to make it clear that the only “baiting” in my life is the visions I give to young maidens to lure them into the woods. See, nothing queer about that.
Some say I was born this way, a villain. Sired in a love affair, I had to watch the King’s noble bride excommunicate my mother to the haunted woods. Others say I became villainized when I made a blood oath to see the last of their noble name perish. Queer people choose their families whereas I chose to hunt mine down instead. See, it’s very different.
While I understand the confusion, for me, dressing is less about turning a look and more about inspiring fear from those who dare look upon me. Full-length robes of black fur might point to a flare for the dramatics, but I use my wardrobe to hide small bottles of far-off poisons. Every morning, I put on blood-red lipstick and kiss a painting of my late sister who died in a horrible accident. I don’t want people to assume there is anything explicitly queer about that.
Some say because I have never felt the touch of a man that I might be “against them,” however, it is just that dating is hard. I hear men like women who laugh at their jokes but every man who has heard my calculated cackle has been struck with a fear they can’t shake. Sometimes I think dating women would maybe be easier, as they often say, “Okay, Ms. Spooky-realness,” at me. However, I simply don’t feel attraction to these wonderful women.
I know that comes from a place of privilege. Truly everything I do comes from a place of privilege, I am actually descended from a long line of advisors to the Tsarina until my great-great-grandmother was drawn and quartered in the streets before vowing our bloodline would become one of great vengeance.
While I cannot control that others may think I’m queer-coded, I am pleased they at least understand that I am in reality only a villain. It’s a specific kind of life. It has taken many years, but I am now proud of my frightful visage. I might not be able to control people’s perception of me when I turn into a puff of purple smoke, but I have to be true to myself.
