As a kid my mother drew flowers and mermaids for me, and by tracing them I learned how to draw. When my grandmother was alive, she had a special relationship with literature as she learned to read and write later in life. I believe these women would’ve been artists, if their circumstances were different. If they were born in a different time, or a different place. I feel the responsibility of redemption, and I’m allowing it to inspire and guide me.
My advice for anyone who wants to start their own business is the same as what I say to friends who want to start cutting their own hair: Confidence is key. If you believe you can do it, you can. And if you mess up the back a little, who cares? It’s behind you.
I’m the person who says ‘don’t swipe left’ when I let people look at my phone because it’s usually full of nudes I haven’t hidden yet. The selfie movement got me to love myself so much that I started wanting to see myself naked more often. So I do my makeup, put on sexy lingerie and photograph myself while I slowly take it off.
Your panicked questions, the constant pressure, and those backhanded compliments all imply that my disability is a problem I need you to solve. That’s kind of the only language we have for when able-bodied and disabled people get together. And I, for one, am pretty bored of it. So let me offer an alternative: I don’t need you to save me. I need you to see me.
Carrie, Dear Able-Bodied Partner
I find myself wanting to reject this idea that Abby is only there for Carol because she’s still in love with her. To me, that reinforces a narrative that is frequently projected onto female characters, that they have to be in competition. Carol and Abby’s friendship is bigger than their fling, is bigger than whatever inevitably happens between Carol and Therese.