I had entered adulthood knowing that I was queer and also knowing that I wanted a child. I understood that getting pregnant would require some money, and some sourcing of anonymous sperm. This struck me as a small obstacle, a hurdle I might easily clear. But I hadn’t anticipated the months I would spend in weekly debates with my partner trying to convince her to have kids.
Jennifer via Makin’ Babies: Getting Pregnant On a Whim
Dad recounted how my wedding had gradually brought my mom and my cousin’s mom closer, who now could chat freely about their daughter’s alternative sexuality, and strategies to deal with hostile family members. I hadn’t expected this to happen. My dad is the only one among his siblings that vocally supported the LGBT cause. My cousin wasn’t so lucky with her paternal support, and received much less understanding from her mother. So it seemed like my marriage dragged the cat out of the bag; everyone was compelled to talk about queer issues and take a position. The lessons from my undergraduate course in feminism began to ring in my ears: ‘the personal is political.’ I smiled to myself, ‘Oh yes, it is!’
These clothes were made with our bodies in mind. To see that reflected on a runway — models of all sizes and ages and races and styles, outfits for occasions ranging from going to the gym to a black-tie formal event, all with a queer point of view — and to be a part of such a vibrant reaction to that made my robot heart grow three times. Queer Fashion Week wasn’t just about an aesthetic. It was about our community beyond just our sexualities, about body positivity, about representation, about celebrating and supporting each other in all things queer.
Some people argue that wanting to have a genetic child is a narcissistic desire, and I will admit that I felt that, so strongly, whatever the partner-focused version of that is. I wanted to make a mini-Simone. How could I not, when she is the most incredible person I have ever known? Doesn’t our world deserve a little more of that special Simone-ness floating around?
I can only hope that somewhere out there, Kristen Stewart and Alicia Cargile are spending today in a very friendly way. I hope they are buying matching Best Friends necklaces at Claire’s and making friendship bracelets on Kristen’s couch. They may be all we have left.
It’s time to put your dancin’ shoes on, kids. Lydia’s got the perfect pairs of oxfords picked out for you - and she’s gonna show you how to wear ‘em right.
Riese tells me there was no new queer stuff on Salem this week, but that there is lesbian stuff on Lizzie Borden. I am juxtaposing those two things because of all the blood and how I can’t watch them.
Sometimes we love people who don’t share our same value systems or knowledge sets. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t love them, but it can mean we need to work hard to make sure we aren’t compromising our own values just to placate them.
In the last half of 2011, I lived inside my depression. I alternated between sadness and numbness, between hyper-productivity and three-day crying jags where all I did was eat buttered toast and listen to Elliott Smith. In 2012, poetry taught me to feel other things again. I fed off Sylvia Plath’s tragedy, took whimsical journeys with e.e. cummings, grounded myself in stories with W.S. Merwin, got high on Anis Mojgani’s hope, riled myself up with Audre Lorde. I related deeply to Eileen Myles and Adrienne Rich and wasn’t quite prepared to process why.
Poetry didn’t convince me everything was going to be ok — too many great poets died by suicide or died alone and angry for me to believe poetry could be a cure-all — but they showed me that I was not alone in my not-okayness. They showed me there was more to life than being fucked up, and they reminded me I deserved better.
We should be thrilled to see them stepping up, because it means we get to ask for more from them. I hope, as they continue to solidify their success, we see more from them speaking out on LGBT issues less familiar to mainstream audiences than marriage. I hope we see them elevate other queer musicians and artists. I hope we, as fans, hold them accountable to using their platform that they’ve worked to build for the benefit of our communities. I hope we hear more incredible music to cry to. I hope we hear more incredible music to dance to.
I fully believed I’d die before the age of 35. I was gonna live fast, get a lot accomplished in an abbreviated amount of time, and die young. When questioned about various reckless life decisions, I thought to myself, ‘Oh these silly people who think they’re going to live forever! So worried about long-term repercussions! Who wants to go tanning with me and do six drugs at once?’