First Person

Am I Bisexual? Is That The Word?

I will never again cultivate a romantic relationship with a cis person on purpose, not in this life. I have been hurt too badly, too often, by too many people. T4T only. Inscrutable genders from outer space to the front, those that can be best described as “smell of campfire” && “a great pink shape.” && those best described as “a single chandelier earring dragging across your chest while we fuck.”

Society + Culture

Imagining a Neurodiverse Future

What do Courtney Love and Greta Thunberg have in common? They both speak their minds, distrust power, and they’re both autistic. These two vanguards show us the power and political potential of autism while demonstrating how autistic people can shape a fairer and kinder world.

Issues

When I Was 16 I Won a Drag Show in Florence

I spent my adolescence trying to be a boy. I wasn’t very good at it, but I tried really, really hard. I didn’t wear bright colors, I didn’t listen to pop music, I didn’t even style my hair until I was 17. I certainly wasn’t the kind of person to dress in drag. And yet I was. And yet I did. Because when I was 16 I won a drag show in Florence.

Sex + Relationships

What I’m Saying Is You’re Stuck With Me

February 7th was our 14th dating anniversary and our 8th marriage anniversary. The truth is, I didn’t see myself married, in a house we own, with a child I carried, in a place in my life where I don’t want to move away or run off to the next tempting thing. I never thought I’d want stability, but here we are.

First Person

The Might-Have-Been

I was only pregnant for seven and a half weeks before my miscarriage. There was no body, no breath; there was no measurable part of a lifetime spent together. I’d only known there was life inside my body for three and half weeks, and yet the experience seems to still have a heartbeat.

First Person Food and Drink

Having Too Many: How Queer Family Helps Heal My Relationship to Food

She has boxes of recipe cards; mostly I know their stories and not their flavors. She needs to know what I cook for dinner regularly; she eats a dinner of nibbles and stolen bites. She tells me that sugar is toxic and will cause irreparable harm to my body; she sends me a box of Christmas cookies. Scrumptious little crystals that can tear at my blood vessels from the inside.