Matika Little is using her personal experience and words to help others feel represented and less alone.
I’m a proud, queer Wiradjuri woman. My labels make me feel powerful and seen but I am also more than just them alone.
I’m also a sister, a daughter, a friend, a bad cook and so much more.
I grew up in Wagga Wagga in regional New South Wales and I was impacted by many of the usual traits of living in the cycle of poverty; drugs, alcohol, domestic violence, a lack of financial stability. My family and I always had a mindset of: it doesn’t matter what we don’t have because what we do have is each other.
A lot of people are surprised when they find out that I’m Aboriginal because of my pale skin, as well as finding out I’m a lesbian because I’m femme.
Many stereotypes exist, particularly in rural and regional parts of Australia.
Today, I live in a bubble of Sydney’s inner west where those types of stereotypes are less prominent in the community, but I know they still exist and so I believe it’s important to highlight that.
My experience has been incredibly diverse; some fantastic things have happened through me being true to myself and through the support and kindness of others. But I have also at times felt lonely, like I don’t fit in or that there are not a lot of people out there like me. I suppose that’s where the idea for my blog Pale, Deadly & Fabulous came from; wanting others to feel represented and less alone.
I hope that by reading the blog or engaging with the content through social media, people can challenge their own perceptions of what our community looks like or acts like and in turn, be kinder to others who are different or don’t fit into a certain box.
I don’t see myself as an advocate, I don’t even see myself as anything that special, really. But I know I represent a group of people who for too long have been forgotten, and been invisible to many. That’s why I share my story, to support others like me and hope that it will create a kinder, more loving and accepting world.
I am who I am because I stand on the shoulders of those who had nothing, and fought for me to have everything I have today.
From our Indigenous elders who pushed for equal rights, education, citizenship on our own land; to the Queer community who fought for equal rights, legal protections and now marriage equality.
I will be forever thankful for the opportunities others’ sacrifices have afforded me.