Results for: orange is the new black
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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 Have a Mild Case of COVID-19 and I’m Battling it Out at Home
When I told my partner I thought I needed to call the ER for a telemedicine appointment, her face was devastated but not shocked. We’d been listing off symptoms to each other for weeks — dry throats, tight chests, nausea — trying to decide if what we were experiencing was anxiety or the onset of the virus.
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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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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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Having Too Many: How Queer Family Helps Heal My Relationship to Food
She has boxes of recipe cards; mostly I know their stories and not their flavors. She needs to know what I cook for dinner regularly; she eats a dinner of nibbles and stolen bites. She tells me that sugar is toxic and will cause irreparable harm to my body; she sends me a box of Christmas cookies. Scrumptious little crystals that can tear at my blood vessels from the inside.
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A Birthday Party No One Else Was Invited To
The first time someone described Casey as having “stalkerish” tendencies, I defended her. For the most part though, I didn’t talk about it.
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My Absurd Skincare Routine Is the Softest I Am to Myself
Sometimes being queer and black, bisexual and biracial, feels like contradiction, like too many things, and sometimes I’m not sure that I’d recognize myself if I walked by.
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Digital Mixtapes and Protests: Oh, To Be A Queer Black Millennial
“For a moment, I forgot about the summer of 2015. I forgot about the panic I experienced, the insomnia, the depression. We watched the new season of Orange is the New Black together and by the end of episode 12, it suddenly all came back.”
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Such Softness in the Harsh World
Stacy asked what she could do, how she could help, all she wanted to do was be useful, and I said nothing, nothing, I’ve got everything under control. And so she held me on the nights I was pretending to be able to sleep and whispered “I’ll take care of you” over and over without ever expecting an answer.
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Mastering the Art of Coming Out (and Making Lobster Bisque)
“I decided to make lobster bisque for my mom at the same moment I decided to come out to her. Only one of those things went according to plan.”
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I Never Meant for My Hair to Be the Way Back to the Lighthouse
“I thought changing something on the outside would change the wrecked ruin of me on the inside. I thought somehow the inside would get a memo from my outside and get into shape. It didn’t, but my hair is the first way I was able to gain autonomy over my body.”
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Grandma’s House on Memory Lane
“As an adult, I wrestle with the stupid irony of having watched my grandmother live out her Alzheimer’s and not remembering anything about it.”
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I’m Both an L and a T and I Don’t Want to Choose a Side
Really, I’m not sure why we feel like we have to keep on amplifying this fight. A solid two-thirds of trans women are on both sides of this so-called divide. We’re a part of both communities.
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So You Can Fuck Us; What’s Next? Going Beyond Sex With Trans Women
The recent cultural trend of supporting trans women has made us highly prized assets; somehow you can prove your radicalness by being the example of someone who has worked through transmisogyny enough to view us as worthy of sex and love. But what kind of love views us as disposable?
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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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Are We There Yet? An Interracial Family Visits a Southern Plantation
One of the first things my mother’s boyfriend noticed upon waking up Thanksgiving Day was that all of the rooms were named after prominent confederate soldiers.
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Recruiting All Homos: Now That We’re Asking And Telling, I’m Enlisting
“Will I have to leave my boxer briefs at home in lieu of high-waisted, thin, cotton lady panties under my kick ass uniform during Basic Training?”
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Am I On A Date Or Are We Just Two Pretty Girls Hanging Out?
“There was so much fucking estrogen and so many ladies who fist other ladies in that building, my ovaries tried to reproduce asexually.”