Results for: dead to me
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Five Queers Of Color On What Connects Us To Our Complicated Or Mixed-Race Identities
Accepting ambiguity feels like being welcomed home.
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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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Unalterable: On Accepting Myself As A Queer Person With Dwarfism
“I am a person with restricted growth (or little person or person with dwarfism), and I am queer… I did not come out as queer until I was in my 30s. People asked me why it took so long… But the deeper answer is that accepting my disabled identity was necessary before I could accept my queer one, and for me this has been a long, hard fought struggle.”
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Fifty Shades of White
Having the blessing – or curse – of lighter skin is a double edged sword. I never gave much thought to the idea that society needs positive cultural images of minorities until I came to embrace my Hispanic heritage and come out of the closet.
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I’m Going To Homeschool These Damn Babies
I finally feel safe enough to imagine the big queer family I never had. A home where gender is an option, not an obligation, where parents can apologize to each other as well as to their kids and where long, ongoing conversations about race, power and privilege exist.
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The Second to Last Woman I Loved
“The truth is always messy. I told myself I could be gay and I wouldn’t ever be hurt again. I needed to never be hurt again.”
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Schecter 3:16 (Or How Jenny Schecter Saved My Life)
“I was angry. Really fucking angry. Angry because Jenny Schecter was right.”
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I Don’t Know How To Say Goodbye So I Wrote You This Instead
This is an essay about leaving everything behind, and I don’t know where to start because part of what that means is that I am leaving you.
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Trust No One (Or, Everything I Know About Love I Learned From The X-Files)
“I did not intend to have any experiences outside the range of what I had previously proven to myself I was comfortable with or could understand. Scully and I both convinced ourselves that this was possible, that it had ever been a possibility.”
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Of A Swamp Witch And A Rural Queer
“It’s so easy to yearn and ache for people to fill the space surrounding you, but it’s so difficult to find those who can do so in a way that doesn’t immediately consume all your hard-won oxygen and freedom.”
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Fear and Loathing (as a 21-Year Old Queer) in Singapore
“I am afraid help will come too late to someone in my life. I am afraid that closets become coffins.”
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This Happens: Sexual Assault Between Queer Women
Poet Leah Horlick comes out about her search for healing and answers after surviving lesbian sexual assault.
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It’s More Fun When We’re Co-Conspirators
“Her hair is like another person. Today it’s two braids.”
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I Am Jack’s Preoccupation With Mortality
“You’re marching gallantly to your grave Laneia. We all are. We’re all spinning spinning spinning just grazing fingertips on things in hopes we’ll leave a mark. Anyway you should stop opening your mouth so wide when you brush your teeth. Keep those wrinkles down.”
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Butch Please: A Letter to Baby Butches
I have every faith in you, baby butch. I know you will be careful with this word and its legacy. It looks like a badge but it feels like a battleaxe, and I need you to know that it’s five times as difficult to earn and ten million times more dangerous.
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I Had Facial Feminization Surgery
“I paid a dude to knock me unconscious, peel back my face, and cut out chunks of my skull and jaw.”
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Dust to Dark: The Colors of My Craziness
“It’s on my twenty-fourth birthday that I realize something is wrong. I wake up crying and I don’t stop.”
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Unwritten On The Body
As with the meaning of written text, our bodies float somewhere between the author (ourselves) and the reader (those we encounter).
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Disowned: When Coming Out Doesn’t Go As Planned
“The truth is that it does bother me that my parents are pretending that I’m dead—probably more than I’ve been willing to admit.”
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Prairie Homo Companion: Conversations On Coming Home
“Me too,” I could so easily say to the teenagers on that Edmonton LRT train: “Me too.” I had also wanted to leave, and I did; but then I came home.