This poem Pink Crayons honors my sister Carla’s decision and courage to live as herself, as well as the battle as her brother; a battle about how I can be more supportive. A battle about learning to stop seeing her as the boy I thought I knew and transition into seeing her as the sister she has always been.
Comparison is a thief of joy, and jealousy is often its partner in crime. Whether I’m comparing my body, abilities, or bank account to someone else’s, I do harm to myself if I allow that comparison to rob me of my self-satisfaction and engender envy. It’s a bad habit I’m still learning to break, but certain truths have helped me to compare and envy less — and to thereby do a better job of loving myself.
As I continue to settle into a queer identity, certain words and their meanings seem to do the exact opposite of settling in. They don’t sit still. I’ve noticed that every time a friend of mine uses the word “girl friend” to refer to a female friend, I inwardly cringe and get that weird twitch in my right eye that makes me look like I’m about two seconds from setting something on fire. Am I over reacting?
Many have found radical self-love by embracing and believing in the love of their sexual and/or romantic partners, but us older virgins do not have the luxury of being able to draw from somebody else’s love. It would make embracing radical self-love easier, but we have to dig deep and find love for ourselves and our bodies.
As a society, we do a poor job of talking about, never mind understanding, intersectional oppressions, particularly the intersectional oppressions of racism and disability. If we are lucky, every once and again our privilege will slam into us like a wrecking ball and crack open new awareness reminding us, we must continue to increase the visibility of disabled people of color. There would be no movement without them.
Alpha thinking demands supremacy, and supremacy commands some form of domination, if not outright subjugation. Peers become either distractions or opponents. Compassion literally becomes weakness. Masculinity that embraces this form of thinking becomes inherently destructive.
Hi my name is Crass, and I’m a schizophrenic. But since I’m schizophrenic, I’m misunderstood, stigmatized, and just plain invisible. Most days I can blend – pretend to be social, have conversations I don’t want to have, and appear neurotypical – even though I’d prefer to be left alone. Trying to act neurotypical is exhausting. We’re happy you’re patient with us.Our behavior can change. We have good days and bad days. Be patient. Just listen!
Apoyo totalmente a cualquiera que experimente con pronombres. Cambiar de pronombres no es una exclusividad de las personas trans y las personas no binarias, ni debería serlo. Cuando las personas cis experimentan con sus pronombres puede que no sólo estén explorando y cuestionando su identidad de género sino que también pueden estar normalizando la experiencia de jugar con los géneros.
Later that fall, I started my period. I put away my bike along with a lot of other things. I put away speeding down a dirt trail towards a homemade ramp, sailing off the edge and up the gully with the wind pushing against me. I gave up learning new tricks to impress my friends. I didn’t know then that “Being a woman is something that is up to you to define for yourself.”
Body shaming against all bodies is damaging, including microaggressions against skinny people. However, the difference between feelings being hurt and discrimination, dehumanization, and denial of rights on a systemic level is vast. So, if you are someone with thin privilege, and you are committed to fighting body terrorism and fat discrimination, what can you do?
Inspiration porn is when disabled people are called inspirational or brave for doing all the things that regular people do. It’s a problem because it assumes that anyone with a disability must have it so much worse than the rest of us. And because it uses disabled people to make us nondisabled people feel good about ourselves, or to make us do something, like exercise or whatever. And disabled people aren’t tools. They’re people.
When we’re talking about self-love and body positivity, we should also be challenging ourselves to discuss and critique the ways in which we neglect what we deem gross and yucky. We can’t talk about embracing our fat without embracing the skin between our fat rolls. The yucky parts of our bodies aren’t any less deserving of intentional love.
My whole identity as the mother of a daughter had to undergo a sea-change. I hadn’t realized how much saying my daughter was a feature of my identity until I stopped. I’d dreamed of having a daughter since I was in my early 20s. I gave birth at 34, and I’m now 55. So the sense of myself as the mother of a girl goes back thirty years, and it was difficult to make the transition.
When I went to my first corset booth at a Steampunk convention, I was very embarrassed. I had only seen corsets in the media on very thin models, so I was sure that no one would make a corset big enough to fit me. But much to my surprise, this was the first shopping experience I had had where I did not feel out of place and as though everyone were wondering why I was there. Through this journey I have learned to feel less ashamed of myself and follow my own beauty standards.
I married someone who was a good match for my appetites but, because of medical emergencies and life-saving medicines, my husband lost that part of himself. I’m not talking about dysfunction alone; I’m speaking of the loss of intimacy and desire.