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My years of emulating this figure, of being devoted to an inattentive lover, taught me to expect one, to see love as something one gives, forever, unconditionally, without any regard for one’s own life or needs. Years later, I’m still unraveling how to love and be loved differently — how to be genuinely present for the people in my life who love me, and how to love myself enough to demand a lover who is present, who reciprocates, who is there for me like my God never was.

Christianity can be an amazing, affirming, validating community for many people, but for me it was a bad religion – in bending to my knees for an absent lover, I unconsciously expected love to be both unconditional and unrequited.

Abeni Jones, 

Bad Religion

(via fuckyeahautostraddle)

The scene of black lesbian superhero Anissa with her girlfriend Chenoa was the second time in U.S. network television history that we’ve seen two black women in bed together. The first time, on Dark Angel, one of the women was killed off immediately...

The scene of black lesbian superhero Anissa with her girlfriend Chenoa was the second time in U.S. network television history that we’ve seen two black women in bed together. The first time, on Dark Angel, one of the women was killed off immediately afterwards. (via “Black Lightning” Episode 102 Recap: Three Minutes in Heaven | Autostraddle)

Source: autostraddle.com
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I lit the match, she tossed it into the brush, and we stood holding hands at the edge of the field while it flared with danger and heat and light. Just the two of us alone with the burning.

Now I’m left with the music. I might go weeks without it, but I always return with the fervor of an addict. Any country song, even a brand new one, evokes her and who we were to each other. I can almost hear her singing along, her voice coming in and out as if stretching across a bad connection.

Cassie Pruyn,  

I Hated Country Music Until I Met Lena

(via fuckyeahautostraddle)

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I can’t stop fighting with my white mother but I won’t stop trying to talk to her about what’s most important. She would say the same about her brown daughter. “I want to improve my communication with you,” my mother writes to me. “Know too that I am always on your side, even when I don’t demonstrate it particularly well.” I tell her that I’m also committed to figuring out how we can better understand each other. But we’ll still argue many more times after she writes this. We can afford it because we both know that neither of us is going anywhere. This is how we live out the maternal conflict between feminism’s second and third waves: in love and indignation and rejection and reconciliation.
Maya Krishnan, On Loving My White Mother (via fuckyeahautostraddle)
What takes this from subtext to foreground is not the calculated glances or the ear whispers or the close talking THAT WE’VE BEEN BURNED BY BEFORE, but the ensemble of tops. One after another, scene after scene, tops as far as the eye can see. Rejoice! It’s a new year, all men are in hell, and one of the most anticipated movies of the year is backed by a queer cast of women who could destroy us all.
Erin via In a Movie Full of Tops, Who has the Most Top Energy in the “Ocean’s 8” Trailer? | Autostraddle
Source: autostraddle.com
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