Making Connections Through the “Trans Trade”
The act of the trans trade, and its ritualization, came readily to hand for me, but it’s a distant possibility for so many of us.
The act of the trans trade, and its ritualization, came readily to hand for me, but it’s a distant possibility for so many of us.
Some misguided fans believe they are owed information about artists’ sexual and gender identities. As a queer writer myself, this worries me.
I needed to fight my way out of the trance of thinness in order to find out what else was possible, in order to finally see myself.
On its surface, Brazilian jiu-jitsu was not a sport that I belonged in. To say that it is macho is an understatement.
In writing for TV, I’m committed to doing what I can to wave the Black-femme-boy flag. We deserve to be heroes.
Being a girl meant minimizing myself and my needs, but Miss Scarlet embodied glamour, power and possibility in an unapologetically femme package.
The show went a step further than other cartoons of the time: It showed young women intentionally building a life together.
Transition needn’t be a straight line.
There is no opposite to reconcile. I’ve been both bride and groom, loved and lived as both, since both lived in me.
I pinballed between circles of lesbians but settled nowhere. Gorgeous women were everywhere but always out of reach in San Francisco’s mesmerizing haze.
Maybe I was tired of hiding and being afraid. Maybe I was just overheating and my nipples were starting to chafe. Maybe it was all or none of the above.
David Wojnarowicz captured the chaos of living as a gay man in the 1980s and early 1990s with HIV overshadowing everything we did and felt.
Before testosterone, few people ever saw me cry. Now tears come in hot floods, as though some tender, unlanguaged creature has surfaced inside me.
Madison Montgomery never stops performing. She is at once person and persona.
The land that was previously seen as harsh and brutal by colonial forces was actually a site of survival, new life, and renewal.
The taste of silence and salt heavy on my tongue.
I knew about Matt’s legacy, but I didn’t know much about his life.
Can you still hear us? We’re drowning the state in our chirps tonight if you’d care to sing along.
The years I suppressed my queerness are a loss that I'm exploring and grieving—if only through fiction.
Obviously, I cannot be the old woman. Obviously, I cannot be the woman.