8 Times When Strangers Misread My Gender, Ranked
There have been times when I’ve genderf*cked a little too close to the sun.
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.
Even though I believe in complete body liberation and fat freedom, I don’t like to talk about my “I’ve been fat my whole life” baggage.
Most of my fears are around dying, maybe because I don’t understand it.
Watching the first season during what I considered my second puberty was miserable. I could acknowledge its effectiveness, but I felt alienated.
I begin to realize my relationship is over when my boyfriend starts cleaning his gun in our apartment.
Being 30 meant I was free. In my child mind, it was the ultimate age of adulthood. It meant that no one could hurt me anymore.
There is a haunting that black girls know.
When I saw a UFO, I was 18 and it was the night before prom.
We deserve to feel like art, to feel wonderfully made.