Results for: Feel good
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Just Take It Bird By Bird: On Personal Writing
Writing about your own experiences, whether it’s through memoir or essay or slam poetry or leaving post-its about the sandwiches your mom used to make for your lunch on lampposts, can be empowering and life-changing, even without anyone else reading it.
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I Spent the Summer Screaming in My Car, What About You?
When the sound of a scream leaves my throat, it is a choice. I am never accidentally screaming. I scream in the car and it is on purpose.
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I Didn’t Know Existential Therapists Were a Thing Until I Got One
“I’m an easy host, a rake, a card, I’m bejeweled, I have a gay face. I want to love and be loved. If reaching is a kind of being, it’s a reaching toward.”
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Here’s What I Learned By Choosing to Step Away from Productivity For a Whole Day
I did nothing “productive” for a whole day: no email, no phone calls, no work, no cleaning, nothing that fuels my inherent Capricorn desire to win at Capitalism. Here’s what happened.
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Let’s Pick Flowers, Save Flowers, Make Flower-Saving Books Together
Get ready to get sunny, crafty, and a little more adorable.
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How and Why I Wrote Bang!: A Masturbation Sex-Ed Book for Everyone
I made Bang! Masturbation for People of All Genders and Abilities because it profoundly made sense to me, because there was a gaping hole in that plastic wall where there should have been some acknowledgement of pleasure, consent, or the emotions of sex. Bang! was designed to fill this gap with emotionally-aware, positive sex-ed. While we had been taught about the vas deferens and fallopian tubes, we had never been taught how to even talk about sex with a partner. I made Bang! because I thought it needed to exist.
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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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I Don’t Want To Write Beautiful Things
I am in the business of writing honestly, especially about the things that hurt — heartbreak, disappointment, shame, poverty.
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Giving Poppers to Cis Women
“A cultural exchange from a person with a prostate to those without.”
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I Can Masturbate, No Hands: On Innovative Masturbation and the Power of Friendship
“Through frank conversations with cross country mates and cheeky hints in coming-of-age films, I learned that masturbation is something people do to their vaginas with fingers, shower heads and (though I often doubted it) hairbrush handles. I intrinsically knew that what happened when I pressed my thighs together and held my breath was masturbation, too, but as my Encyclopedia of Wank expanded with no reflection of my own methods, it became clear that I was missing a fundamental element of jerking off.”
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I Tried New Trans Dating App Fiori and All I Got Was This Personal Essay
“She admired my tits like only someone else on estrogen could and then she grabbed them harder than anyone had before.”
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How To Write A Spell Against White Supremacy
To me, magic means resilience and connecting to ancestors who survived the tragedy of the Middle Passage. Magic runs through my veins and feels like my birthright. It’s stronger than white supremacy will ever be.
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This Is an Essay About Penises
“I spent years not thinking about my penis — or, at least, thinking about it as little as possible. After I transitioned, my penis became the most important part of my body — at least, to other people.”
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When Restorative Justice Language, Instead of Action, Perpetuates Sexual Abuse
I tried to lead restorative justice in my own sexually abusive (former) t4t relationship. I did this because I am an abolitionist and know people are more than the worst things they do. What I didn’t know at the time: we should have not been the ones to facilitate the process. With leftist language co-opted, I didn’t know I was allowed to leave; I didn’t know I was allowed to have boundaries.
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Mourning the Loss of Indigenous Queer Identities
This is the legacy of colonization. It is the mass extinction of identities and languages that can no longer exist because someone else said they were bad.
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Making Amends with Valentine’s Day
I hid behind instruments, computers, Whitney’s voice, Prince’s guitar. I sat in front of my computer surrounded by cassettes, illegally downloading songs, awkwardly whispering “I love you more than I know how to explain and I’m scared so here’s a mixtape I made you.”
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Hold Us in the Light
The thing about miscarriage is that the word itself does no justice to the great tragedy that it is. There are very few things I know anymore, but I do know this: Birdie will always be a part of our Hanukkah story.
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The Angsty Buddhist: Learning Anger And White Buddhism
When it comes to Buddhism and cultural appropriation, I still sometimes worry that I’m making a big deal out of nothing, that I’m angry for no good reason.
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The Birth and Death of a Name
This is the story of the birth and death of my name, which means that it is a story about transition, which means that it is necessarily a story about the border between two places and the force with which one rends it.
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I Have IBS and I Still Want You to Eat My Ass
“Do you think he’ll notice if I just never come out of the bathroom?”