At my Catholic all-girls middle school, I liked to tell people I was Buddhist. It was my feeble attempt at preteen rebellion. I enjoyed interjecting, “Oh yeah? Well, I don’t believe Jesus was real because I’m Buddhist!”

I grew up hearing stories from elders about how integral the black church was to their lives during the Civil Rights era. Being a queer woman, I never quite felt that same sense of camaraderie in the church. So I found my sanctuary on Twitter.

“My father has very few admirable qualities when it comes to our relationship: he doesn’t follow through on his promises, he doesn’t compromise, and he has a God complex. “