Results for: Feel good
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What If It’s a Woman?
“We spoke up. Hell, this was post-#MeToo era. We were heroes. I was… a hero. So, why did I feel so much shame when, a year later, a woman sexually assaulted me?”
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Apparently, Shame Tastes Like My Cunt
“The other partners I had throughout much of my time in sex work were uncomfortable at best and shaming at worst. They were jealous and confused. ‘How can you interact with men like this?'”
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Unexpected Item in the Bagging Area
“My wife and son didn’t know; no one knew. The guilt crept up when I unloaded the groceries in the kitchen, stolen and paid-for alike.”
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“Too Queer, Too Smart” for Abuse
“They didn’t hit me. They didn’t throw me. They didn’t throw the phones, the glasses, the blow dryers, at me. They were just near me and it was always somehow my fault.”
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Shame as a Black, Autistic Queer Elder
“Toward the end of our stay in Mississippi, a 24-hour crisis line started up. I called them almost every weeknight.”
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The Eras of My Bisexuality
She was the straight, white, Christian girl who was so picture perfect no one could dislike her.
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The Price of Perfectionism: Chronic Illness, Unemployment, and Starting Over
“I could start a Youtube channel or a blog about disability rights and monetize it. FUCK. I don’t know how to turn it off.”
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I’ll Never Walk Away: Writing About Motherhood From Imperfect Circumstances
“In the summer of 2021, right after a trip to visit him and my mom, my dad called me. He sounded weird.”
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Not Grateful Enough
“Thank you for pushing me down a ramp so quickly that I slammed into a wall.”
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Love In A Sinking City: A Queer Timeline
“Today I am 28. It is 2023. In Nigeria, it is illegal to do the things I did freely at the beaches in Toronto; watch my queer friends kiss under the eyes of a cloudy sun, hold hands with a woman on a rain-less night intoxicated by wine and wishfulness. I lie to a taxi driver, tell him that I have a fiancé. I show him a picture, a man. My cousin doesn’t know how often his image has saved me from lecherous men. Here, fiction can be a raft in a sea…”
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Running Away, Running Home: A Bipolar Queer’s Path to Family
“I drove so fast away from her, that house, that man, that job, those lost friends, those queer dance parties, that supportive church, the community I created, without a single sound.”
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Lying’s the Most Fun a Girl Can Have
“I identified as a heterosexually-inclined bisexual when I started giving hand jobs for money, and I left more or less a lesbian. It wasn’t the only factor in that transformation, but boy was it a major one.”
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How Art Modeling Carried Me Through an Abusive Relationship
“I wanted to be a landscape or a place that couldn’t be contained.”
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Is There Life After High School?
“I wanted to have nightmares about monsters or mass shootings. It was too embarrassing — in the midst of global catastrophe — to be concerned with something as frivolous as high school.”
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I Was Supposed To Be Good At Math
For a split second, I thought about her racial calculations, not because I felt I needed to know, but because maybe, finally, someone might be like me. I knew our skin colors carried the weight of the same questions.
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In The Movie Depicting My Childhood
“Legislators pass laws enabling families to control children and defund social services that support them, all in the name of protecting the wealthy, white, girl body. These policies, which are part of the theater of stranger danger discourse, endanger children by isolating them in their homes, where Lego fortresses can become wine cellars, tombs. JonBenét as a symbol becomes the sacrifice used to sustain this system. Her story becomes a dark illustration of the consumption of the violence and abuse inflicted on girls and women.”
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By Fighting Gender Expectations, My Mother Made Room for Me to Be Myself
“I faced the difficult truth that, despite it getting me through so much, “Black womanhood” alone simply can not capture the essence of my soul, and it does not always feel like a perfect fit.”
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Between Orbits: Two Manipulators, Pulled Out of Abuse and Back
Or, the queer urge to almost form a cult with a straight woman.
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This Never Happened
On family, memory, scar tissue, a 1999 Red Sox game, unreliable narrators, and setting the story straight.
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For My Own Pleasure: Hiring a Sex Worker as a Queer Woman
“She kisses me. I hold on to her arms lightly, not wanting to hurt her, not wanting to weird her out, make her uncomfortable. She’s here for me: I’d hired her for exactly that, and she agreed to it, and she’s here.”