When I tell someone that my preferred pronouns are they/them/their, I never know what to expect. Sometimes people say okay and move on, but other times, they’ll start to ask a whole bunch of questions.
When I explain to my peers that it’s insulting, many of them do stop saying it. The people who keep using it are the people closest to me–my family.
Coming out required me to first love myself, and then to believe that someone out there and would love me back.
Queerness is (and always has been) politicized, and being out and proud is (and always has been) a political act.
The bombing at an Ariana Grande concert broke my heart. As a gay, Latinx teen, I found a safe haven in pop music. It’s through our divas that many of us find ourselves.
I don’t care if my non-binary identity isn’t normal enough for people to easily understand.
“It kind of brought back all the butterflies about using the bathroom period and kinda that feeling of nervousness about which bathroom do I use? How are people going to perceive me when I go there? That same kind of anxiety that leads me to avoiding the bathroom altogether.”
“How do you know you’re gay?” I get this all the time. So far, the only answer I have is: “You just know.”
We die for the right to love and be loved. We die protecting our own, because the law has yet to protect us. We die because we stand up for ourselves. We die to be seen.