Tops still can eat at Chipotle before sex, and that is a privilege. A huge one.
I’ve spent most of my life apologizing for my appearance, for taking up space, for simply existing as a fat person.
So how do we welcome these femme women into the LGBT community? It’s actually pretty simple: Don’t make assumptions.
People rarely, if ever, assume I’m queer when they look at me. Even for other queer people, my queerness isn’t usually perceptible. It’s hard to detect through the projected aura of my French manicure.
That’s the other thing about passing. People feel like they’re safe to be homophobes in front of you.
Did you know one half of Nina Sky is a lesbian? Or that P!nk did a song about lesbian sex with Peaches? Or that Tracy Chapman has never officially come out? Fun facts!
Sophomore year of college at Oberlin, I went through an androgynous/sexually-experimental phase wherein my friends helped me buzz off all of my hair, starting with the ponytail.
I’m where I’m meant to be now, but I hate that I believed I had to present myself differently in order for others to believe that I’m queer. I hate that dressing girly now makes me invisible to the lesbian community. What I hate most of all, however, is that even if I make it a known fact that I am into women, I am still doubted and distrusted by everyone.
When I read the negatively connoted word ‘emasculation’ used in describing his storyline, I found myself basically knowing why it would be used, yet still rhetorically asking myself why it had to be a word that means figurative or literal castration.