Results for: you need help
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PHOTOESSAY: Taking My Chosen Body Outdoors
I decided to meet Syd in Oakland to celebrate my newly healed chest. We hiked out into the Happy Boulders, selected our first climb and immediately took off our shirts. It was glorious, but also terrifying and vulnerable.
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How to Be a Grown Woman
“Maybe I could teach you how to do that and you could teach me a couple of things I’ve been wonderin’,” I told her. She shook my hand. It was a deal.
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Femme Fashion Is Queer Fashion
“I sat there staring at my laptop screen soaking in the news that my love of flirty summer dresses, brightly hued tights, wine-colored lipstick and smiling radiantly in photos made me invisible to those I wanted most to be seen by. I thought I had to make a choice between authenticity and visibility.”
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Still Reeling That I’ve Made It
“No one knows, including me, that my overindulgence and competitive drinking is an attempt to assert the only masculinity I know. Toxic.”
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When You Wear An Agbada
“To understand my relationship with this symbol of masculinity, we’ll have to start with my journey of queerness I had no idea I had embarked upon until I was turning 28, the sleeves of my buba — the tailored Agbada shirt — all rolled up to my elbows and my fingers rubbing down on the clit of a girl I had only met a couple of times prior to that moment.”
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Butch Slut
In the pool hall, my sweetheart and a close friend tease me one night: “unimpressive,” “pure luck,” “you aren’t that good.” They were trying to get my ire up so that an hour later when I told them to stare into each other’s eyes as I fucked my sweetheart’s body, I would mean it with a snarky competitive vengeance, I would mean it with power and control, I would be pushed to take what I want.
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Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be (Lesbian) Cowboys
“I wanted her to smile at me that way. I wanted her to say my name. This turned out to be easy.”
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I Used to Break Into Houses
“I craved that isolation, that feeling of utter aching loneliness that I found inside houses where I did not belong.”
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How Whitney Houston Taught Me the Greatest Love of All For My Queer Black Self
My journey to self-love through the influence of Whitney Houston’s life and music.
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I Had Facial Feminization Surgery
“I paid a dude to knock me unconscious, peel back my face, and cut out chunks of my skull and jaw.”
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Choose Your Character: I’m Peach, Not Mario
“I did extremely well in any video games with dating elements, like Persona 4, but virtual dating and real dating are two very different things. I could master playing as someone else, but as the old cliché of dating advice often goes, I needed to be myself.”
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Identity Theft: A Trans* Intersex Woman On Traumas and Surgery
“It’s unfortunate, unfair and illogical that intersex people get assigned a gender and a sex and are expected to either stick with them or fix someone else’s mistake with expensive, risky surgery on their genitals.”
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Trans and Schizophrenic: When Diagnosis Impacts Transition
If he had read my medical records he would have known that my first psychotic break was exacerbated by my fear that I would never be recognized as a woman.
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“You’re So… You!”
“Our commitment was never in question. I just hadn’t faced the possibility that I could be, not someone’s boyfriend, but their girlfriend. That was the part I had to think about.”
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Fat, Trans and (Working on Being) Fine With It
“Not only do I have to deal with the crippling dysphoria that comes from having a body that I often don’t even recognize as my own, I also have to deal with the cultural misogyny that tells me that a woman can’t be as big and fat as I am and still be desirable.”
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“And I Do Mean All My Life”: A Trans* Coming Out Letter
For anyone who’s ever wanted to say it in a letter.
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Rebel Yell: This Voice Isn’t Gendered, It’s Punk
“The questionnaire doesn’t ask: “How do you feel your voice fits your role as an artist?,” but for me, it’s an unavoidable question.”
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Do Not Consume Psilocybin Mushrooms While Trans*
“This is about the first time I ever did mushrooms, and it’s about how being trans* affects everything, even bullshit bourgeoise attempts at pharmacological liberation.”
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Unwritten On The Body
As with the meaning of written text, our bodies float somewhere between the author (ourselves) and the reader (those we encounter).
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I Was A Baby Queer at Bible Camp
“The summer after I turned thirteen, I decided that exactly two things needed to happen in order for my life to matter: I needed Rosie Collins to like me, and I needed my parents to send me to Bible Camp.”