In Alejandro Heredia’s “You’re the Only Friend I Need,” queer teens Fabio and Noel struggle to reconcile with their burgeoning identities. At multiple points in the text, this struggle manifests in a battle between femininity and masculinity, especially in the character of Fabio. By shedding light on the misogyny of gay men, Heredia interrogates the appropriation of femininity in the queer community.
Initially, Fabio demonstrates a vehement aversion to femininity. When a group of girls makes fun of him for eating a mango, for instance, he declares that he “fucking hate[s] girls” (Heredia 34). In Fabio’s mind, a few bullies come to represent every girl around the world. He judges using overgeneralizations, one of the many tools of the oppressor. Fabio also asserts his masculinity using the oppressive tool of violence. He gets into “a fist fight with one of the popular girls at school” after she calls him a slur (36). Taken symbolically, Fabio seems to spar with his own femininity. He attempts to quell rumors by pummeling the feminine energy inside himself just as he pummels his bully. However, his battle further exposes his queerness, solidifying him as a “girl-fighting maricon” (36). Similarly, when he “flips [the mango girls] a middle finger,” he only incites more laughter (34). With each struggle against femininity, Fabio further implicates himself in sissyhood. His fight is futile. He cannot dismantle patriarchal oppression using the tools of the patriarchy.
Fabio’s innate femininity blatantly contradicts his misogyny. When he and Noel start to “refer to each other in feminine pronouns,” the change “feels good” for both of them (36). According to Noel, “Fabio is unapologetic about his femininity” and “will throw it in anyone’s face” (36). Fabio even gets mad at Noel when his drag makeover does not look feminine enough. “You look like a boy. That’s not the point,” he says (39). These remarks and assertions seem discordant with Fabio’s earlier hatred of women. How can a boy who despises girls be “unapologetic about his femininity?” Fabio fails to recognize the hypocrisy of his views. He appropriates femininity and feminine culture, yet he despises women. In turn, Fabio harbors a deep-seated hatred for a fundamental part of himself.
Though he fights against it, femininity fits Fabio like a glove. When he dresses in his aunt’s clothing, for instance, he looks “as if the blouse was made for his body exactly” (38). This is because it is. He is meant to embrace his feminine side, yet his misogyny prevents him from fully doing so. Even after Ren tells him to respect queer women’s gender identities, he refers to them using masculine pronouns. He refuses to immerse himself in femininity; he is not a girl, just something “adjacent” to one (40). Heredia suggests that Fabio can only achieve true happiness by placing himself in women’s shoes, both literally and figuratively. This is more than a radical form of empathy; it represents radical self-acceptance. Fabio can only settle into his identity when he discards the patriarchy’s rules. Queer self-acceptance hinges upon a new, more feminist way of being.
Through the character of Fabio, Heredia suggests that gay men cannot comfortably reconcile with their femininity without first confronting their misogyny. By extension, his story implies that the liberation of the queer community cannot be wrought without the liberation of women, too. This intersectional approach to activism acknowledges the multiplicity of our own identities. We contain “multitudes,” and we must strive to accept each part of ourselves, whether masculine, feminine, or something in between (38).