hopeless platonic

Happy Pride all the queers in my phone. But an extra happy pride to all the bisexuals in straight passing relationships. To the trans people still living in the closet for their safety. To the nonbinary people getting misgendered. To the ace and aro people who sometimes feel like Pride isn’t for them. To the BIPOC people who face discrimination in the queer community. To everyone who feels like they aren’t queer enough.

Because I was now a man, I could not speak about what it was like to be a woman. Because I had been a woman, I could never really speak about what it was like to be a man. Do the math: I could not speak. It was a double erasure, a double bind, in which every experience I had was false, and so nothing I said was credible. I could no longer derive authority from my experiences before transition, and shouldn’t even cite them — I had never “really” been a woman, so those things hadn’t happened — but those experiences could always be weaponized against me to prove I wasn’t “really” the man I claimed to be. They call it erasure, when this happens. I wasn’t prepared for how literal the term was. Every day, I could feel myself disappear.

Top 3 things people love insisting they don't have despite it being impossible

A doll youtuber I watch has made a video about the history of Polly Pocket, and she's describing the plots of the dvd specials, one of which features an elderly woman named Ms. Throckmorton, and my reaction was