Results for: dead to me
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The Soft Butch That Couldn’t (Or: I Got COVID-19 in March 2020 and Never Got Better)
Is a soft butch a soft butch if she can barely hold even herself together? Is a soft butch a soft butch without her swagger?
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This Is A Dead Mom Essay
“Not being an asshole” to myself meant admitting that my mom’s death and her illness permeate every single part of my being, and always will.
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A Queer African Tale: On Trauma, Gender Transitions and Acceptance
“Dating broken white women became a way to reprise a powerlessness that years of sexual abuse and generations of blackphobia had tricked me into believing in. I drowned this feeling of powerlessness in weed and seeking out relationships in which I could engage in yet remain completely hidden from view.”
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Gay, Interrupted: On Navigating Gaybourhoods As A Queer Brown Woman
Gay districts are safer, more open and more profitable than ever before, but for whom?
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Before You Know It Something’s Over
“He didn’t feel any pain. He died instantly.” That was how she told me that my father was dead. I was 14.
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Me, Piper Chapman, the Psych Ward, and the Incarcerated 2.2 Million
“Real human change requires space to be honest with yourself, honest with others; a space that doesn’t exist when you’re trapped by necessity behind a fortress of self-protection. As the inmate Poussey in Orange replies when a correctional officer pressures her to speak openly during a group therapy session: “Does it ever occur to you that actually feeling our feelings might make it impossible to survive in here?”
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Fifty Shades of White
Having the blessing – or curse – of lighter skin is a double edged sword. I never gave much thought to the idea that society needs positive cultural images of minorities until I came to embrace my Hispanic heritage and come out of the closet.
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The Second to Last Woman I Loved
“The truth is always messy. I told myself I could be gay and I wouldn’t ever be hurt again. I needed to never be hurt again.”
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Schecter 3:16 (Or How Jenny Schecter Saved My Life)
“I was angry. Really fucking angry. Angry because Jenny Schecter was right.”
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Fear and Loathing (as a 21-Year Old Queer) in Singapore
“I am afraid help will come too late to someone in my life. I am afraid that closets become coffins.”
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It’s More Fun When We’re Co-Conspirators
“Her hair is like another person. Today it’s two braids.”
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I Am Jack’s Preoccupation With Mortality
“You’re marching gallantly to your grave Laneia. We all are. We’re all spinning spinning spinning just grazing fingertips on things in hopes we’ll leave a mark. Anyway you should stop opening your mouth so wide when you brush your teeth. Keep those wrinkles down.”
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Dust to Dark: The Colors of My Craziness
“It’s on my twenty-fourth birthday that I realize something is wrong. I wake up crying and I don’t stop.”
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Disowned: When Coming Out Doesn’t Go As Planned
“The truth is that it does bother me that my parents are pretending that I’m dead—probably more than I’ve been willing to admit.”
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Butch Please: Butch Buys A Drink
“If I wear my heart on my sleeve – and I do these days, much to the shock and dismay of a butch gone prematurely tender – then the sleeve itself is my masculinity.”
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The Secret Diary of a Turkey-Fister
“As it turned out, stuffing turkeys on the graveyard shift was a bonding experience that could not be transcended.”
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Estranged: How I Fell In Love With A Girl And Lost My Family
“When they see you happy, they’ll accept it,” someone told me once. When there are tears about something unchangeable, people can only be optimistic. It’s the only thing that is left.
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Going Mad in New York City
“I feel like yelling at people,” she told me. I didn’t really grasp then that she meant that. This was the very first time. This was the day after Easter.
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Listicle Without Commentary: Puzzling References to Homosexuality From Journals Found in My Room While Packing to Move to San Francisco
“I was watching The L Word first season and thinking about how my heart is dead.”