What It Means to Be Trans in My Tiny Town
My trans friends rarely come home, and when they do, it is for brief bursts of time. They question why I’ve chosen to keep living here.
I can’t do this anymore.
Cheer up, face!
San Francisco Chronicle
It’s because I’m trapped here
The war is over
Both sides!those people
The ‘H’ is out of shave at last
What are you?
Train approaching, whistle squealing
don’t ask, don’t tell
Avoid that rundown feeling
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It is not so much that these things are invisible as it is that people are trained to hide them, and society is conditioned to look away from them.
How can I say that I fear I’ll never date again without feeding the monster? No one owes me their touch; I am starving for it just the same.
More in this series
For me, homosexuality is an invitation to opt out, to abstain from the trappings of heteronormativity, a gift of eternal boyhood.
There’s nothing more queer than cobbling together something fabulous out of very little.
There was nowhere to go back to. Oklahoma was out of the question, always out of the question. But then, where was home?