“Don’t be afraid of who you are. It’s the people who bully or ridicule you who are the freaks.”
“Vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, and then maybe the occasional penis if I’m drunk enough.”
If the connection was right, gender and physical presentation became much less relevant.
“One key difference: BOOBS.”
Yes, it’s a parody.
Yesterday in the hospital, Vito asked me, “Is it manly to cry?” “Of course,” I said quietly. “Then I think I’m about to be very manly,” he said.
Girls are judged by their looks and they’re treated as oddballs if they don’t marry and go for a career instead. Being a girl certainly isn’t as good as I thought. And I definitely am happy having a penis rather than a vagina.
Bisexuality is not a choice. It is not unnatural, greedy, or slutty, and it’s definitely not a myth.
I’m confused; being bisexual may be the hardest thing. If I was completely gay, I could move into that world – yes, with some difficulty, but I’ve seen other guys do it.
When someone who resembled a porcelain doll with the personality of a firecracker thought I was perfect, I instantly “fell in love.” I was so insecure and yet so shallow at the same time.