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Dear Versula

Writer: CREATIVE NONFICTION
CREATIVE NONFICTION
Oct 20
3 min read

By Andrew Lapin


In 2023 I got into drag for the first time as part of a fundraiser for the Boston Ironsides, a gay rugby team. This is also how I announced to my Mormon family and professional community that I was gay – via drag. I won that competition, a three-round lip-sync smackdown, and the following day I felt this letter to my drag persona, Versula The He Bitch, needed to come out of me.  



 

March 26, 2023

Dear Versula,  


Thank you. I didn’t know how much I needed you until you rescued me. I have spent so many years on the edges, not sure where I fit, not sure if I fit. I have admired drag from afar, seeing the confidence and excitement these performers carry. I felt the fear of what it would mean to do that. From the first courage to say 'yes' to Sean that I would do the show, to choosing fabrics and patterns to give you life, I felt you in the back of my mind telling me to try. You never told me I would fail, you never told me I would win, you told me I could try. You told me that you had a story to tell, too.  


The last time I wore a costume and assumed a different identity, I was a missionary. I spent years preparing for that, and yet I still felt fully unprepared. I also felt fully unloved, unsupported, inadequate, ugly, not good enough, and inept. I felt antisemitism, homophobia, body shame, and deep self-loathing in that costume. A costume that, for years, I admired from afar and hoped that by assuming that role, I would feel a part of the Mormon community. I wonder sometimes if you, Versula, were there too. If underneath you knew I was in the wrong costume, if somehow you knew I didn’t need a necktie but a necklace. Were you there, watching that show and taking notes on how you would make your performance matter?  


I remember the first time I wore hearing aids to school. My mom promised me that nobody would notice them, that it would be no different than the kid with glasses. She was wrong. But it was you, Versula, who made me pretend that they were accessories. I was able to reframe that shame into something positive because of you.  


Some may think that Poor Unfortunate Souls is an unoriginal choice for a drag performance. But I think you told me we needed this song. A song about someone giving up their voice just to feel good enough to be accepted in another world. You gave me the power to take back my narrative. You let me drive this dynamic and gave me control over a voice that I lost for so many years trying to be part of another world. In the end, I didn’t need to live in that other world; the seaweed is not always greener. I just needed to let you live.  


Yes, Rucks and Tucks was a fundraiser for my community. It was also the first time I publicly acknowledged my queerness. It was the first time I allowed so many fragments and segments from my life to come together in one room and in one person. It was strange to see my body shaped like you and to see reflected the women in my family with whom my relationships are complicated and who were palpably absent from the evening. My worlds collided in that room and in my head that night. People from so many parts of my experience were there: high school, church, college, graduate school, work, Jews, Mormons, ruggers, and people who loved me. That dark basement nightclub was a lot like my own mind. A space where all the parts were allowed to come together and where you were born.  


As much as you are a drag entertainer, you will forever be my special force. When I feel alone or anxious, when I feel depressed and unworthy, I will think about you, Versula, and how you gave me love, power, and acceptance. I love you for that Versula. Thank you for teaching me to love who I am, wholly and completely.  


Andrew xoxo




Andrew Lapin (he/him) is a father, partner, farmer, therapist, bar owner, and man behind Versula The He Bitch. His professional work centers on increasing access to mental health services to individuals across the lifespan. Creatively, he is the co-owner of VICE, a gay bar in Worcester, MA, slated to open in Fall 2026. His drag persona, Versula, is generally seen hosting fundraisers for the Boston Ironsides. Versula is raunchy, witty, and knows how to throw a party! When he isn’t in heels or his therapist chair, his favorite way to spend his time is with his two sons, taking care of their 80 chickens and ducks. Follow Andrew on Instagram: @QueenVersula and @ViceWorcester

 
 
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