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“What do YOu MEaN Elvira is gay!?”

I had yelled quite loudly. In the very tiny break space. It was September, not too busy so not too many had their eardrums shattered.

My coworker cringed a little at the sound but nodded and shoved an article in my face. It was brightly illuminated on their phone screen. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, but there it was! In bold black font. Elvira, Mistress of the Dark herself, had come out in her new memoir Yours Cruelly, Elvira.

I grabbed the phone, with my coworker still attached, and pulled it closer to my face to read it fully. Elvira, the icon also known as Cassandra Peterson, was gay. But not only that, she was in a committed relationship and had been for nineteen years.

I said several happy four letter words not exactly appropriate for the most capitalistic place on earth, and eventually released my coworker’s phone from my grip. I whipped out my own, of course, nearly throwing it across the room in my excitement to know more. Peterson’s partner, Teresa “T” Weirson had started off as her trainer at a gym. But after their long term relationships ended, they pursued a romantic relationship together. Which then evolved fully into a committed partnership, kept quiet for nearly two decades.

Shock. Disbelief. The best sort. Delighted awe was the only way to describe how I felt. “Nineteen years!! She’s got a whole girlfriend!” I squealed.

My own soon-to-be-girlfriend made a remark something along the lines of “Well, that certainly wasn’t on my 2021 bingo card, but good for her.”

More ungodly noises erupted from my throat as I echoed her, clapping between words for unnecessary emphasis. “Good for her! Good for HER!”

*****

Weeks later. October. Spooky season. And time for me to be at my most obnoxious about Dark Shadows. I had put off watching the new documentary about Jonathan Frid, the man who brought sympathetic vampire Barnabas Collins to life, for no reason other than I had no time; being that it was my mouse boss’ anniversary. So my hours were somewhere between too long and spirit crushing. But when I did, I watched it with a friend.

Dark Shadows and Beyond: The Jonathan Frid Story is a fantastic piece about the life and career of the usually private Canadian actor. A beautiful watch.

“Aw dang I wanna watch Frid’s one man show!” my friend said .

“It’s gross that we were like, born too late to enjoy anything like, in person,” I moaned, pissed off at time’s mere existence but what else was new.

The documentary was fantastic. Both of us had to pause it and scream and howl and wheeze when there were comments about the 2012 movie being…less than stellar. You could tell it was concluding; friends, family and co-stars were making broad and sweet statements about Frid’s personality, friendships and memories; marking his influence on their lives and on history.

At the one hour and twenty-eight minute mark of this hour and forty-two minute picture Barry Fuller, an actor and acquaintance of Frid filled the screen. “In those days, it was illegal to be gay. And this played on his mind, and so he was never overtly gay. I talked to my friends who are now in their 80s and they did the same thing. We were embarrassed about it. We never really talked about it.”

Other sweet words were said. I probably heard them but even now on rewatches my brain retains only the feelings of love and nothing of specifics. My jaw hung open, just so. I couldn’t make out people’s faces, water got in my eyes you see. By the time the credits began I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks but I honestly can’t remember exactly when I started crying.

“Hey Kaz?”

The screen was dark now. Other suggestions popped up for my viewing pleasure.

“Kaaaz?”

My chest was tight. Tight tight tight.

“You alive?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m just–yeah! I’m fine.” I’m a bad liar.

“Aww Kaz…”

*****

It’s March. It’s oddly warm. A time for mindless scrolling on Twitter. Post after post. I’m but no words are clicking.

Meet Viktor Hargreeves. With an umbrella emoji.

That easy. That simple. A high quality picture of Elliot Page sitting at some kind of diner on set below it.

Meet Viktor Hargreeves ☂️@UmbrellaAcad pic.twitter.com/ZraQNBhfTb
— Elliot Page (@TheElliotPage) March 29, 2022

Like any self respecting recovering emo kid, I bask at the altar of My Chemical Romance. So when Gerard Way’s comic passion project The Umbrella Academy was coming out you bet your ripped jeans I was among the many waiting for its premier. A few years back audiences had met Vanya. A likable, great character. But seeing Viktor, well that sparked joy.

“Is that Elliot Page?” That was my girlfriend. She’s eating pizza and looking over my shoulder.

I nod. My mouth doesn’t want to work yet.

“Wow, he looks amazing,” she takes another bite. “I’m glad they changed the character for him.”

I remember how to speak. “Yeah! I’m excited as hell.”

She smiles you know, a kind of knowing one. “I bet.”

Welcome to the family, Viktor. Crooned Netflix’s Twitter under Elliot’s post. We’re so happy you’re here.

Elliot Page introduced himself to the world as his authentic self back in late 2020. Umbrella Academy swiftly announced that his character would follow.

I don’t usually agree with underpaid social media managers but I was so happy he was there.

*****

I decided to dive deeper on my own cell phone to find out more about Elvira’s coming out, and of course to get the upcoming book. I found quotes from her book and couldn’t help but marvel at her candor. Her worries split out. Her beautiful and brutal fear and excitement. Working through her inner thoughts that were no doubt racing through her mind. “Would my fans hate me for not being what they expected me to be?...I’m very aware that there will be some who will be disappointed and maybe even angry, but I have to live with myself,”

Another coworker, reading over a twitter post probably, said an all too familiar tune. “I’m glad she said something, not that it’s like any of my business, but it’s still awesome.”

*****

There had been rampant speculation for years over Frid’s sexuality. He never had a partner that fans knew of, there was a great picture of him and Louis Edmonds, his friend and as-open-as-one-could-be in the 60s co-star on Fire Island, and was known as a bachelor. As they tend to do, Dark Shadows fans of course had opinions. Dramatic ones.

Fighting in comments. Insults. Die hard believers. It’s sort of strange how fiercely people believed in Frid’s straightness in a show that historically already had several gay and bisexual cast members like the aforementioned big Lou, Joel Crothers and Christopher Bernau (to only name a few). But apparently Frid could never join their ranks. Hazards of being the main character, perhaps.

There were those who assumed but accepted that it was his private life and he was never out. Some who could not separate the vampire from the actor and refused to believe their beloved heartthrob could ever swing any way but straight. Some who were just homophobic. And those who didn’t think questioning the sexuality of a dead man was appropriate.

I made my friend go back. Just to hear the words again. Once Barry Fuller’s talking head stopped she paused it. “Dude, imagine how pissed some people are going to be.”

*****

Never check Twitter replies. Or threads. Just don’t. Heck, don’t go on Twitter. It’s great advice everyone should follow. I for one, am a hypocrite.

I see love. Excitement. Eagerness. Happiness. Hate. Disgust. More hate.

The character, nay the show, NO all of Netflix was ruined now. All because a transgender individual dared to exist. Slurs. Snowflake calls. Gifs that didn’t have as much bite. To the vitriolic tune of: Just because Elliot Page wants to be an insert-slur-here, doesn’t mean they have to ruin Vanya by turning her into one.

*****

My coworker didn’t mean anything by it. In fact I know he was just trying to be easy going and sweet. Genuine thoughts came from his mouth and I know him enough to never doubt the sincerity. But it was none of his business.

*****

There are plenty of fans who didn’t care if Frid was gay or not. As long as the man led a happy and fruitful life. Who cared? Why did everything have to be gay these days?

*****

Lots of tweets expressed they were cool with Elliot but not sure about Viktor’s changing. The source material, ya know? But hey, maybe it would lead somewhere interesting for the next season. Alternate timelines.

*****

It’s none of my business. Just don’t shove it down my throat. Keep it to your personal life. Why do they have to say anything? We don’t care what your sexual preference is nor do we want to know. What does it matter? Not everything has to be focused on preference and gender and whatever. Just be a person.

*****

Elvira, like a lot of her fellow horror staples, was already considered by some to be a gay icon. So Peterson’s coming out just made it all so more wonderful and valid.

I was happy. Bouncing in my chair and proclaiming that the E in LGBT stood for Elvira. Smiling widely even when having to explain that the “ __ in LGBT stands for ___” was a meme. She was in a relationship. She was in love! She was ours! Did you hear the good word? Joy. Unfiltered.

*****

Jonathan Frid was not Barnabas Collins. He was a person. I didn’t know him. But he was real. He lived, he loved, he had friends and passions and problems. He lived until 2012. He played the role of the vampire from 1967 until 1971. He thrived on the stage. He is loved and missed and admired. And gay.

It was one sentence at the end of a documentary. It did not go deeper; frankly it did not have to. It was enough. Barnabas Collins was played by a gay man. It was just that one, damn sentence. I sobbed. I hung up with my friend. I curled up on my bed. And I sobbed . The tightness building and the tears flowing.

*****

A Twitter bio tells you either too much or nothing at all. Elliot Pages’ says He/They. They/Them is in black lettering on an iridescent badge stuck on my cork board. They were going to be playing Viktor as a trans character it seems. As themselves.

My girlfriend nudges my cheek with her own. I am content. Almost at ease. It was going to be okay. Lots of things were.

*****

Horror and its sister, science fiction, invite misfits. Outcasts. The marginalized. They opened their arms to them and they leap into it gladly. Walking into basements knowing full well there is something there because they feel comfortable there. In shadows, in cobwebs, in gore. Come, horror says, see yourself in sight and sound. Feel connected in narratives dressed up in blood and guts and things that go bump in the night. Lurk in our shadows and haunt every corner.

The circles of horror icons and gay icons make a very large, overlapping vendiagram. Some are made mistakenly like the Babadook. Some are made on pure vibes alone. Other times it’s just because we think they’re neat. Or subtext. Or text text. Or just because.

So when one of horror's own comes and declares themselves one of the same community that adores them, it can be so validating.

I don’t think I can express how simply euphoric it is. How powerful the happiness and warm feelings one can get. Seeing someone just like you. It’s a funhouse mirror reflection. It’s someone you can recognize as yourself. You can see your splattered mess of colors and make out shapes in the glass that you know to be you. It is as imperfect a copy as can be, not at all the exact same as the person staring before it. But maybe that’s why they’re funny. It’s still you, even when it isn’t exactly you looking back.

They say the word. Ace. Nonbinary. Gay. The word you identify with or as and thousands upon thousands of eyes see it. How thrilling it is to be seen. To be beheld. It’s a strange sort of acknowledgment. Yes, here they are. But also here I am. In a moment, you and someone that is held up and admired are forever linked by one common factor. A beautiful one. It’s like they reach through the screen and grasp your hand. Look, look at me and see yourself. Be seen because I am being seen. I am being known and now so are you. You are real. You always were, but you can believe it a little easier now.

They were not a confirmed bachelor. They were not good friends and roommates. They were queer. They are not just confused or dressing in a new way just because. They are just like you. There you are! You can be happy. You can live your authentic life right now. You can grow old.

Cassandra Peterson, in her memoirs. “…and at this point in my life, I’ve got to be truthful about who I am.”

In The Jonathan Frid Story, Dean Holland, his friend and artistic director said this: “ He never really had a significant other. I did find this.. I think, a little bit interesting about him, but he always seemed very content….to just live his life, on his own, as he liked. And he got to do exactly what he wanted to do.”

Elliot Page on the joy of living in the body he was always meant for: "I can’t overstate the biggest joy, which is really seeing yourself. I know I look different to others, but to me I’m just starting to look like myself.”

It’s September. It’s October. It’s March again. I am content. I am weeping. I am giggling. I look upon the face of horror and the face that stares back is me.

There I am.

There I am…