An Exorcism of Sorts
The haunted house persists in horror media for a reason.
The haunted house persists in horror media for a reason.
There were a few months where my mother, who lives back in Bangladesh, stopped talking to me after stumbling across some essays I’d written about my queerness. This confusing and heartbreaking time was when I truly understood the value of having a queer chosen family and support system.
I was in love, then I wasn’t. One night, after a big fight. I got on my bike to make the short trek home and a song came to me.
I am in the business of writing honestly, especially about the things that hurt — heartbreak, disappointment, shame, poverty.
Lying on that rigid ol’ mattress, I realized: I’m transgender. Then one day without my permission, I found myself being me.
Sky Dancers were just the kind of aggressively feminine toy I was unconsciously obsessed with.
Up until a few months ago, I never felt very strong. I was a fat kid who grew into a fat teenager, and now I’m a fat adult.
The more I played, the more characters I made friends with, the more I liked my new name.
There have been times when I’ve genderf*cked a little too close to the sun.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve held a silent tradition of closing out each year with a word.
The game is simple, really.
In the five years since I ended that relationship I’ve reflected on how I got into it, why I stayed, and my own part in the failure of it.
I’ve learned that a ranked list of songs can be just as powerful as an end-of-year journal entry.
Holiday meals have always been mired in conflict for me.
A movie theatre was the first reason I left my apartment after the 2016 election.
I was in California for a conference when I heard about the Club Q shooting.
Happy Gallbladder Day on Autostraddle dot com! I’m glad you’re here and I’m glad my gallbladder is not.
As my opening number, I’m imaging a quickstep with JoJo Siwa. I have no explanation for this.
It’s November 2016, and I’m lonely and missing my family a lot more than I expected. I say I can’t come home for Thanksgiving for a mix of reasons.
We have a responsibility to care for others. In land stewardship and land healing this means prioritizing accountability to Indigenous folks.