Results for: love is a lie
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Feelings Rookie: Overwhelmed By Everything
This is about what we as individuals can tolerate comfortably before we’re pushed into emotional discomfort. We try to live in this comfort zone, but that’s impossible, because we’re human beings and rarely fit in any sort of box until we’re dead and literally lying in one.
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An Introvert Goes Canvassing For Hillary Clinton
Maybe I’m not the best candidate to talk politics with strangers. But I couldn’t shake the feeling — the knowledge, really — that I’d copped out. Bailing on our first female President, of all people, because you’re scared? Nah, girl. I called the guy back, told him I could make it after all, held myself accountable on social media, and freaked out for ten minutes. But it was on. I was going.
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Telling Myself the Truth: 5 Strategies for Fighting Internalized Ableism
“…it’s still completely acceptable for disabled people to hate ourselves.”
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Two Weeks
“I think that adopting a dog would make me “less of a sad sack,” according to a journal entry on the day that Marty is picked up by his human mother.”
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The Unresolved Body in a State of Conflict
Often, when I’m having sex, a very specific thought runs through my head on a loop: “don’t touch me.” What gives? If I get so much out of being close to other people, shouldn’t sex be the ultimate way to prove it?
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I Need Justice, I Need Peace: A QTPOC Roundtable
It felt important for us to have a voice somewhere, so we’ve gathered a few of the Black queer voices and put them together here. We want to offer this as a place of healing for QTPOC in this time of tragedy.
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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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On Performing in The Vagina Monologues When You Don’t Have a Vagina
“There’s an annoying song that’s only playing all the way through all day long on some days. Others, I can barely hear the chorus, and others I can’t hear it all. But every day, I know that that song will be there again one day, maybe even tomorrow, maybe even later that same day. And I hate this song.”
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My Trans Body as a State of Desire
“My brain is lit like the map of a major metropolis at night. My body is, too. ‘I am at one with a sea of sensations, glitter, silk, skin, eyes, mouths, desire,’ Anaïs Nin wrote, and that’s pretty much it. Or, put another way: I have found an affirmation of selfhood, and I haven’t thought to immediately annul it.”
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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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I Feel Pretty
“I know exactly why I did it. Attempted to shave my face. I wanted to be like my dad.”
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Grandma’s House on Memory Lane
“As an adult, I wrestle with the stupid irony of having watched my grandmother live out her Alzheimer’s and not remembering anything about it.”
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Coming Out To 50 People At Once Was So Much Easier Than Doing It One-on-One
“That’s right!” I shouted, feeding off their energy. “Clap because I’m gay!”
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The Gift Of Asking: Diary of a SAD Girl #3
“I’ve come to believe that my one wild and precious life will never be full if I don’t aggressively dismantle my childhood hardwiring, if I don’t ask the people who love me most to give me what I need.”
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Winter Is Coming: Diary of a SAD Girl #1
“Time Change Sunday is my personal gateway to hell. It gets dark earlier (and then earlier and earlier). It gets cold in the morning and night (and then stays cold all day and all day). I stay inside to keep warm and then I stay inside because I don’t want to leave and then I stay inside because I can’t get out of bed.”
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My Pregnancy Was Perfect, and I Lost My Baby Anyway
Sometimes, even the best laid plans are, well, decimated. Even a type-A mega control freak like me couldn’t control my own body when I was pregnant — and I certainly couldn’t control what happened to my son after his premature birth.
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Goodbye, California
“The threat to move to Michigan was always made in a specific context: some element of my life fell apart and I didn’t know how to fix it or myself.”
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A Fragile Dance: Queer Brown Futures (Or Lack Thereof)
“Why do we only collect coming out stories, it-gets-better stories, these stories that are set in the past, that tell of a particular set of experiences that not everyone can relate to? Stories that treat the future as if it doesn’t come with a problems of its own.”
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Tell Me What You Want, What You Really Really Want: A Roundtable on How We Want to Feel
Once you figure out what feeling you were chasing, you can start working toward it – and getting a solid taste of it — every day. And that, my friend, seriously changes everything.
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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.”