Results for: no fucks to give
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Mama Outsider: How I Learned the Definition of Obscene
“I was unstable and grieving and more suited for a patient friendship than the dramas of new love. But I loved her and in thirst, I acted unlovingly by climbing into a lap in which I wasn’t welcome. My behavior is the definition of obscene.”
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Orlando Made Me Love You, Dammit!
He shouted “Repent” since the sign was not sufficient, I guess. I found myself going up to him while topless Amazons danced in his face. I found myself going up to him to say this: “I love you. I have nothing but love for you.” I couldn’t help myself.
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Mama Outsider: No Place Like Home
“Every day since my father died has been at least a little fucked up. There is no such thing as a non-fucked up day when you are a Daddy’s girl without a father.”
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“You’re Carrie, Y’Know?”: 7 Ways My Nondisabled Friends Get it Right
Because the world sure as hell isn’t telling me my body matters. And having nondisabled friends who do, who affirm me precisely for standing out, means I don’t have to accept pity masked as kindness.
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Broad City, Ilana and Space Enough for Bothness
I remember the day I found out that Ilana from Broad City wasn’t biracial. I Googled around until I found evidence that there were others like me: biracial girls who felt a little bit incredulous; just a hair shy of betrayed. To this day I haven’t been able to convince whatever part of my brain that initially projected that identity onto her to unclench.
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Love Non-Orgasmically: She’s Not Coming But We’re Still Here
“I came. You didn’t. I’d kind of expected it to happen because of our connection – hoped egotistically anyway. I was disappointed but figured I’d give it time.”
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How Rape Jokes Sound Inside Queer Bodies
If the performer had known that I write about the horrific violence against my community by day and process the trauma of that work in my journal by night, maybe he wouldn’t have made that joke. But I bet you he would have resented the implication that he shouldn’t.
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Bottoms Up: That Time I Told My Boifriend I Liked Being Told What to Do
How do you tell someone, “Hey, I’d love it if you’d slap me around and tell me what to do”?
Turns out, you tell them just like that. -
I Looked at my Body and Said Yes: Where Disability and Style Meet
I think I’d gotten it into my head that disability is always, on some level, supposed to feel bad. Like if I fought myself all the time, I was somehow doing it right. I worried that if gave up the femininity I’d worked so hard for, I’d just be giving in. As someone who has a lot of privilege, I thought it was my job to be the right kind of woman, even if I didn’t enjoy it.
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Life, Death and Surrender: It’s Hard to Know When It’s Time to Say Goodbye
On losing a pet, resilience and vulnerability, human frailty and animal intelligence, and everything that goes into saying goodbye.
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A Trans Woman of Color Responds to the Trauma of “Tangerine”
“Why is it that trans women of color have to experience so much violence to remember that they have each other’s back?”
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Tales From The Driver’s Seat: 7 Actual Experiences I Had While Learning To Drive at 25
“He gave me “the benefit of the doubt” that traffic was indeed too rough to allow me, a braless 25-year-old nervously driving a station wagon, to shift over.”
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I Don’t Know How To Make Friends: The Tinder Blues
Tinder is not a very good place for making friends.
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Panic and Parenthood: Having A Baby, Being Torn Apart, and Putting Myself Back Together
“In one of my college psych courses we had to try to use conditioning to get rid of bad habits. My classmates tried to stop biting their nails. I tried to stop panicking during sex.”
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Melancholia In The Sunshine
“It isn’t until the summer, when the frost melts and the icee man comes calling and the pool is open and the yard (however ridden with stubborn weeds) starts to incubate natural life, that you realize the source of your woes isn’t dependent on the weather. It’s you. “
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Taco Tuesday: Finding Home Again
In the very first edition of a biweekly column all about tacos, Yvonne writes about her personal connection to the delicious, Mexican super food and her search for damn good tacos far away from home.
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A Queer African Tale: On Trauma, Gender Transitions and Acceptance
“Dating broken white women became a way to reprise a powerlessness that years of sexual abuse and generations of blackphobia had tricked me into believing in. I drowned this feeling of powerlessness in weed and seeking out relationships in which I could engage in yet remain completely hidden from view.”
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On Learning to Love My Body: Because Summer Is For Fat Girls, Too
Dipping into my summer wardrobe for the first time reminded me just how far I’ve come in learning to love my body.
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The Vagaries of Love: How Poetry and Queer Movements Give Each Other Names
For National Poetry Month, an ode to the queer poets who talk about their love, fight for justice, and helped me save myself.
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The Disappearing Act: Fighting Disordered Eating as a Masculine-of-Center Woman
I got a taste of something I had never known — shopping in the men’s department afforded my body the opportunity to take up the amount of space it actually takes up.