Last night, I went to a drag show headlined by the fabulous Alaska Thunderfuck from RuPaul’s Drag Race.

I am not the type of person who “goes out” often - especially lately, as my social anxiety and reservations about myself and my body often leads to a special brand of self-sabotage that means I’ve been spending a lot of time at home, alone. For months.

It didn’t always used to be this way. When I was a teenager, my social anxiety was present, but not entirely crippling – the times it bested me were fewer and farther between. But time has not been friendly to me in that respect, as it seems the older I get, the harder it is to overcome the obstacles set in place by my mental illness.

Last night, some of my besties informed me of Alaska’s appearance at a local club, and for the first time in a long time – I didn’t talk myself out of going.

I don’t know how many of you watch the show, but as I’ve told numerous people in my life – it has been a total lifesaver to me. I’m sure when I tell people this they probably think I’m being sarcastic, but it really has, in all honesty, been a beacon of light in a time of darkness.

When I am depressed and anxious and seek to close myself off from the world, I become attached to things that distract me. If it isn’t work, writing, art, or reading - then it’s film and television.

I don’t remember how or why I started watching it, but as soon as I started season 2 on Netflix – I didn’t stop. I watched back-to-back episodes for weeks, curled up in my bed with my cat, wiggling along with the queens on the screen.

Everything about it gave me a reason to smile, a desire to own myself.

Unlike most reality shows that send away contestants on a sour note, there is nothing hostile about the departure of a queen each week. Love and respect for each queen’s talent is always conveyed before Ru speaks the infamous words, “sashay away” – which is more of a “ta-ta for now” than a “fuck you for not being good enough” – because everyone is so valued.

The glitter, sequins, runway walks, challenges, lip-syncing and louder than life costumes (as well as characters) had won me over so completely that I began to fantasize and dream about being on stage – a thought that would usually terrify me.

Feeling that utter fucking confidence that is often so intangible to me was addictive. I began to adapt it, day to day – a newfound source of courage that instilled in me a need to “sissy that walk” everywhere I went.

I have spent most of my life trying to blend into the background, careful not to bring attention to myself – especially my fatness. There are people in my life I aspire to channel in order to overcome my fear of visibility, but there is no doubt – RuPaul’s Drag Race has made an immeasurable impact.

So when it came time to see one of my favorite queens from this season, instead of fearing the experience - I dove right in. I winged my eyeliner out further than I ever had before, threw on some lipstick, a miniskirt, and my favorite peplum top – and felt fucking fabulous walking out the door and into that club.

With a couple of gin-and-tonics to help the night go down smoother, I didn’t become overwhelmed like I usually do in small spaces crammed with strange, sweaty bodies. I had my friends by my side, music to wiggle my hips to, and loads of new people to meet – the intimidation had gone missing. (And of course, Alaska was fabulous.)

Nights like these are so necessary. It gives me hope that I am not, in fact, a total lost cause. I actually woke up this morning excited to start my day, for the first time in ages, and I want so badly to hold onto this feeling. So I had to write it down.

RPDR may seem like trashy “reality” television on the surface, and maybe you think it is – But I am thankful for it all.

…YOU. BETTA. WERK.