#It's been on my mind a lot how to explain how my brand of nonbinary feels

[adhbabey]

here's some autism traits of mine that aren't symptoms, but they're things that are autism and im choosing to unmask n share this with you all.

biting. just i want bite fingers. i crave to put them in my mouth. i want to bite in general. i know its not socially acceptable to bite people, but i want to. i am a creacher and i cannote change that.

when i was like 14 i was really obsessed with random xd humor. I would say "ekop" instead of "poke", because its poke backwards. And I had this one friend I'd constantly do this with. like "rawr" and "cupcakez!1!1!". We were truly scene.

Speaking incredibly eloquently, as one alter put it, "Human language does not account for all the nuances that I wish to share, so I am using the language to its full extent, detailing every complicated sentence that I can muster. I wish to share my full thoughts and experiences, but it unfortunately does not do what I want to convey in justice. So I must settle for the english language for now." Some of our alters can't really speak because of that, and its difficult for them to communicate outside of visuals and vague feelings. It's really either hyperverbal or no verbality for us.

every fucking alter being some brand of autism. Tsuki is ace and hates to put a label on things, the only concrete feeling she has is anger. Rai can barely speak/communicate, they are very observant and quiet, and they feel the most disconnected from others being the host. Kaori is literally the most autistic creature you could ever come across, they are just literally what you think of, they love all the "cringe" culture type stuff and adore being nonbinary. etc etc. Like, how did I not realize when all of us are some brand of autism?

Feeling like an outsider my entire fucking life. Even when I related to others, I always felt separate from the rest of society, and I must sacrifice everything in order to be loved. This has been connected to spiritual beliefs of mine.

Another thing connected to spiritual beliefs of mine, feeling like I truly cannot see the world, as if I have a film over my eyes. The reason for my self entrapment is a "curse" that a "film" over my eyes exists and I never fully can break free from. I realize that the "film" is masking and my truly unique way of seeing the world is my autism, and I've had to move through the world not letting myself "see" truly.

alice in wonderland, coraline, fran bow, all characters I relate to are young and unique girls that move through a world that is crazy and full of madness. Something I find myself deeply relating to.

feeling misunderstood all the fucking time. even if i try to explain my feelings or thoughts, I'm constantly put on a high standard that I have not been able to achieve. I don't know how to change people's minds as I speak with genuine intent besides rather obvious displays of frustration, anger or sarcasm. I was also the person who thought others were always genuine, and rarely questioned one's intention behind what they said. This trait of mine has led me to become gaslit by a few harmful people in my life.

my disorders all linked together, makes for a bad time. this isnt an autism specific trait. i just. if i feel like an outsider (asd), and have trauma with being treated like an outsider (did), and get really upset with other people saying nasty things about me in regards to not being normal (adhd + rsd), im going to have a hard time and constantly blame myself for being an outsider (ocd) and im gonna hate myself (depression). so its just like. hey i found a piece to the puzzle, but i already know most of it. and thats just the egodystonic experience for me.

but hey, lets talk about more lighthearted stuff!! i love kandi!!!!! it jingle jingle and it has super pretty colours!! im afraid to stim but this is the shit for me. this is amazing.

i'd love to use word quirks and kaomojis a lot more!!! but unfortunately thats not the blog for this bc its not plaintext. but in my heart, thats what i want to do and who i want to be.

oh i remember the last one!! I read this somewhere, but apparently since a lot of autistic people struggle to communicate their needs, they'll do things that meet their needs somewhat, even if they don't know why they do it. For example, wearing hoodies and heavy clothes because they're touch starved and want to be hugged! And I really related to that!! I wear hoodies and lots of layers all the time, or like just wearing my day clothes, even if they're uncomfortable. So, I do that, not just because I'm cold, but I need the weight compressing me, and i've always been doing that since I was young. So I felt.

Not really being able to read big books until middle school. I know there's people who havent really talked until they were older, I remember not being able to comprehend big swaths of text until I was a teenager. maybe thats the audhd, but i feel like thats always been my sort of "i think this was my developmental milestones that i hit late". And yes, I was able to read quite a lot for my age, but it always felt like something that I hit late.

share your autism traits that aren't necessarily symptoms, or you can talk about the ones you relate to and I wrote. Sorry if this post is hard to read, I just wanted to talk about it. :0 so ya

#babey posts #autism #actually autistic #i also realize ive been having meltdowns and shutdowns since i was young #but i didnt know thats what i was experiencing #i would just get really tired or hungry and just would fucking sob and scream #i thought that was just sort of normal and everyone felt that way #that i was just really bad at hiding it #ive been experiencing it into adulthood too..... #id shutdown after friend stuff bc i felt too drained to interact anymore

[swanlake1998]

Article: For transgender dancers, progress can't come fast enough

Date: March 8, 2020

By: Avichai Scher

Sean Dorsey was tired of being the only transgender dancer in the room. So he took the bold step of starting his own company, the San Francisco-based Sean Dorsey Dance, and become the first openly trans director of a full-time dance company. It was a milestone for transgender and gender-nonconforming dancers and choreographers, and Dorsey hoped it would lead to a more inclusive dance world.

The company is celebrating its 15th anniversary this year, yet Dorsey remains the only openly trans artistic director of a full-time dance company in the country.

“We’ve definitely made progress since I started, when there was really no context for institutional or social support of trans dancers,” Dorsey said. “But there’s still a major lack of representation across the dance world.”

Dance, especially older forms such as ballet and modern dance, is mostly structured around strict gender lines. While the growing acceptance of transgender people in the United States has extended somewhat into the art form, trans dancers are often forced to choose between being their authentic selves and career opportunities.

Issues start in training

Dorsey’s choreography often deals with trans issues, and he is committed to being an advocate in the dance world for transgender people. But even in his own company, Dorsey is the only trans performer.

“In San Francisco, at least, I don’t have the luxury of holding an audition for trans dancers,” he said. “There just aren’t very many at the professional level.”

Dorsey said this is largely because barriers for trans and gender-nonconforming dancers start at a young age — as most training programs are gender-specific.

Jayna Ledford, 19, made headlines when she came out as transgender in an Instagram post in 2018. She was studying at the Kirov Ballet Academy at the time, a traditional ballet program in Washington, D.C. It was the first time a dancer at an acclaimed ballet school had publicly come out as trans.

Classes at Kirov, like most ballet conservatories, are generally separated by sex assigned at birth, and when students are combined, teachers offer different steps for men and women. Ledford, however, found ways to get the training that matched her gender identity, including dancing on her toes in special pointe shoes, which is done almost exclusively by women and requires unique training.

“I wanted to do what the females were doing,” she said. “I’d do it on the side and not pay attention to what the guys were doing. I’d also stay after class and practice pointe technique with my female friends.”

She hadn’t had the training other females at the school had, but she was hoping to transfer from the men’s program to the women’s.

“I knew I had a lot of catching up to do in terms of pointe work,” she said. “But just being in the room with the females, that’s what I wanted.”

The Kirov Academy told Ledford she could not join the women’s program unless she physically transitioned. Ledford was not ready for that, so she left the school. She was disappointed but now says she understands the academy’s position. The school confirmed Ledford’s account but declined to comment.

Maxfield Haynes, 22, who is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns, said the large, prestigious ballet school where they trained was not supportive of someone presenting as male wearing pointe shoes.

It wasn’t until Haynes enrolled at Tisch School of the Arts at New York University that they were able to explore the more feminine aspects of ballet technique. Ledford also found higher education to be more supportive than a conservatory. She now studies at Montclair State University and practices pointe technique daily.

Lack of professional opportunities

After NYU, Haynes chose to dance with Complexions Contemporary Ballet partially because the company is explicitly supportive of gender fluidity, and even had a specific role for Haynes that is gender-nonconforming. In the David Bowie tribute piece, “Stardust,” Haynes dons pointe shoes and was partnered with male dancers.

“It was everything I could have dreamed of,” Haynes said of the role. “As nonbinary, I like to get to show all aspects of gender. I don’t think about dancing like a man or a woman, just myself.”

Opportunities to dance roles that are gender-nonconforming are rare in the concert dance world, even if dancers are becoming more open about being gender-nonconforming in their offstage lives. And those who want to physically transition face a stark choice, as none of the major dance companies in the U.S. currently have openly transgender dancers on their rosters.

Alby Sabrina Pretto recently made the difficult choice to begin physically transitioning with hormone replacement therapy at the expense of her performing career. She was a dancer with Les Ballet Trockadero de Monte Carlo, an all-male comedy troupe, for eight years. While she got to dance in pointe shoes, the style of the company is rooted in the comedy of men portraying women, which ultimately wasn’t how Pretto identified.

“There were moments I wanted to do things like a ballerina would and be ethereal and pretty,” Pretto said. “To dance like a woman.”

She knew that physically transitioning would mean she could not continue with the company.

“I wanted to have a career, and that slowed down my decision to transition,” Pretto said. “I waited until I felt like I had done what I wanted to do there.”

Liz Harler, general manager of Les Ballet Trockadero, said in a statement that transitioning does not disqualify dancers from the company.

“Dancers who expressed interest in transitioning to female have been told that their job would not be in jeopardy, though none have chosen to do so while continuing with the Trocks’ rigorous dancing and touring schedule,” Harler said.

Both Ledford and Pretto hope for the day when they can attend an audition and be hired without having to explain their gender identity.

Ledford said. “I’ll audition as any other woman. If I get in, then I’ll sit down and talk with them.”

Ledford is “optimistic” that this can happen in the next few years, but Pretto isn’t so sure.

“I am not naive, I know I cannot just audition for a major ballet company and join the female corps de ballet,” Pretto said. “But I would love for that to happen for me. It’s the ultimate dream.”

Her skepticism is partly based on the experience of her former Trockadero colleague, Chase Johnsey, who is gender fluid. He made headlines in 2018 when he was cast in a female ensemble role in the English National Ballet’s production of “Sleeping Beauty,” though it was not on pointe, and the heavy costume concealed his body. No additional female roles came his way afterward.

The question of who gets opportunities as a dancer often comes down to the taste of directors and producers and what they imagine their audiences want to see, not just ability.

Pretto danced a couple of character roles recently with Eglevsky Ballet, a growing ballet ensemble on Long Island, New York. The director, Maurice Brandon Curry, said he would consider Pretto for a female ensemble role next year, because her pointe work is “excellent,” though he wonders how some in the audience will react.

“Casting Alby in a female role would not be about passing as female, but I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge my concern about an audience member who was offended,” Curry said. “But art is not prejudice; it’s about inclusivity and open minds. If someone is not willing to have that experience, they don’t have a legitimate place in our audiences.”

Signs of change

Dorsey said that even having discussions about gender identity in dance is progress from when he started, and he’s encouraged by changes he’s seen: Most theaters either already have gender-neutral restrooms or create them for his company’s visit; trans and gender-nonconforming students attend his workshops in various cities and share with him their efforts to be accepted in their dance communities; the San Francisco Ballet persuaded him to lead a training session on gender identity in dance; and he was on the cover of Dance Magazine.

Ledford was recently a “Gaynor Girl,” a spokesperson for the popular pointe shoe brand Gaynor Minded. Pretto said she worked up the courage to use the ladies' locker room at one of New York’s busiest studios, Steps on Broadway, and no one seemed to mind.

Still, the art form has not yet caught up to reflect the audience, Dorsey said. His company has worked in over 30 cities in the U.S. and abroad, and he is usually the first trans choreographer a theater has presented. But he said the response from audiences is almost always positive.

“Dance audiences are ready and hungry for trans voices,” he said. “It's our dance institutions that are still catching up.”

#article #ballet #an article from last year but still important #sean dorsey #jayna ledford #maxfield haynes #alby sabrina pretto

[bulkhummus]

Wait bulk how did you replace the car? 😳

LMAO IT WAS NOT THE WHOLE CAR SORRY it was just the bumper which was honestly a feat in itself, story under the cut

let me set the scene--- it was close to midnight, i was driving down from upstate from visiting my friend to help her move into a new apartment and like put together furniture and hang stuff etc etc I'm gay, and i was in my moms car because it handled better in the snow than mine.

im thirsty. im exhausted. its snowing. i am not thirty minutes from my friends house i just left, so i decide to make a pit stop before i really get on the road. i pull into a 7/11 to get a red bull and the biggest water bottle they carry. i come back out get into my car, and absolutely do not put the car in reverse and instead put it in drive and fly into one of the cement poles they've got in front of some stores for precisely the situation I'm describing to you presently.

so the front bumpers BUSTED, im chugging redbull, chain smoking bc i thought i was hot shit and calling my friend explaining, shes yelling about the redbull at midnight and not about my bumper. i drive back to my friends, praying the whole thing doesn't fly off as i go. i call my mom, tell her the roads are too bad and ill try again in the morning. the next morning arrives. bumper is still busted and was not miraculously fixed overnight. I GO ON FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE AS A LAST RESORT while we lay in a heap in my friends bed defeated and eating left over New Apartment Cake, and we find a bumper. Prepainted which means MAYBE just MAYBE i can get out of this without my mother ever finding out. We had to drive an hour, we listened to mbmbam I'm pretty sure at the time, and we arrive at some guys HOUSE. we buy the bumper in cash EXCEPT IT DOESNT FIT IN THE CAR because my friend had stuff in her car still from moving. so the guy helps us tie the box to THE ROOF. at one point we ran over one of the notorious ny state potholes as you do and we nearly lost it.

we eventually get home, she made me drive because she was too nervous with it hanging over the windshield etc etc. and now SHES on the phone calling her upstairs neighbor who is at work, and mind you who she only vaguely knows because they smoked pot one night together but we're desperate to pull this off, because she remembered that he said someone he was related to was a mechanic (his uncle) and can he do a rush job yadda yadda yadda

anyways i meet this guy named Arnold. its a private repair garage. he's like this really tall really skinny looking guy that looks more like a farmer than a mechanic. he laughs when he sees my busted up bumper and the box tied to my friends car. i explain to him that my mother will never entrust anything to me ever again ( my mother was very strict growing up and has OCD and it was a lot for her to let me even take it) and he laughs and says he can do it bc we're friends with his nephew (i never met his nephew). I also ask him to make sure everything is still working and if its a little broken but fine than its all good. i think my raw and honest desperation really won him over and he nods.

it takes a little while ofc, he had other stuff to do first, and we're in a town we haven't been in before so we go have lunch, walk around some stores, ignore phone calls from my mother, as you do. i come back. arnold, light of my life, doesn't charge me a rush fee because we chatted about tattoos and he said i reminded him of his niece (I'm nonbinary but for arnold ill be his niece if it meant no rush fee) so i tipped heavily and was on my merry way, brand new bumper.

nothing in my life had ever worked out so coincidentally like it did with that bumper.

my mom never found out.

#my friend knows how to Get Shit Done so that definitely helped tbch #ask tag #anon

[sapphia]

look i don’t want to @ people who are trying to explain the complicated intricacies of their personal sexuality (even if ya’all are doing it in the discourse channels) but i do just want to say in general terms for everyone who keeps saying that they don’t identify as bisexual because it “felt restrictive” or “pan just fits better” or they “don’t care about gender”

these sort of emotional reasonings are exactly why there is an issue with the split between bisexuality and pansexuality. making this statements is rooted in your own internalised biphobia. 

bisexuality and bisexuals have always sort of been shat upon, and have drummed up poor reputations and negative connotations both inside and outside of lgbt circles, and this was especially prevalent in the late 90s and 2010s when gays and lesbians were getting more accepted but there was still a lot of reservation and negative stereotypes surrounding bisexuality, including the idea that bisexuals aren’t really bi, they’re just straight or gay and lying/in denial; that they’re slutty; that they only care about sex or are hypersexual. This idea was rampant in mainstream cishet culture but was incredibly prevalent in gay circles as well. 

which is where pansexuality comes in. because whatever the reasons for someone coming up with a brand new sexuality (which isn’t what we’re discussing here), its rapid spread can definitely be attributed to the fact that pansexuality really quickly began to distance itself from all the negative stereotypes that plagued bisexuality. and in doing so, reinforced them. 

every anxiety people had about their sexuality was appeased by pansexuality. why do you think pansexuality is pushed so heavily on “hearts not parts”? because bisexuality is hypersexualised, and pansexuals wanted to distance themselves from the slutty stereotype - and so propagated the idea that pansexuals aren’t interested in people’s genetalia, but in a way that isn’t concerned with sex. it’s not that they’ll fuck anything that moves (like those bisexuals) but they don’t care about gender, they don’t see gender, gender is irrelevant. 

pan emphasises the equal attraction aspect because anyone and everyone who was in a relationship with a bisexual worried that one day their partner would wake up and realise they were with the wrong gender. straight people worried their partner was really gay, gay people worried they were really straight. gay and lesbian groups excluding bisexual people specifically was really starting to take off, as did the concept of a “gold star lesbian” - because women touched by men were dirty, and women who continued to fraternise with the enemy were traitors, and feminism and lesbian rights combined in a whirlwind of hatred to demonise men and anyone who consorted with them. and gay men were little better - gay sexual liberation gave rise to the lovely transphobic “ew, vagina” jokes, promoting the idea that a gay man was somehow lesser as a gay man for feeling anything other than disgust for a vagina. 

pansexuality appeases this anxiety a lot; by claiming equal attraction, gays and straights alike can be reassured that their partners aren’t experimenting with them, aren’t testing the waters, don’t have a preference that will later turn into a realisation that they weren’t bisexual at all. bisexuals had never needed to preface their sexuality by explaining exactly how they experienced attraction; after all, that can be pretty personal and private, and people often find that fluctuates throughout their life or depending on circumstance. this left the waters murky for other people, who wanted to know - are they gay enough to count as lgbt, or are they bi but just had a gay fling once? are they mostly gay, so i shouldn’t shoot my shot because i’m not the same gender as them? now pansexuals were opening the door with that description (whether accurate or not, as it turns out a lot of pansexuals didn’t actually subscribe to the “equal models” theory, or their attraction later changed), so anxiety soothed. 

pan was touted as the “woke” sexuality; bisexuality was falsely labelled transphobic, and even when that wasn’t actively mentioned, “hearts not parts” and being attracted to “all” genders has a strong implication that pansexual people have somehow transcended gender; that has a huge appeal in the age of growing recognition of trans rights, especially nonbinary people. bisexuals were still arguing with other lgbt members that bi doesn’t mean two; pansexuals had surpassed that entirely by getting to create their own word not bogged down in lgbt+ and gendered history. so no wonder it felt like it “fit” better - it’s designed to feel pure, to feel transcendent, to feel “woke”. 

bi doesn’t feel restrictive because it includes less (in actual fact, by common “definition” that keeps popping up, it should be less restrictive, as ONLY people with equal attraction can be pan, whereas anyone who feels any sort of non-monosexual attraction can be bi). bi feels restrictive because it’s weighed down with 40 years of biphobic baggage and negative connotations. pansexual, on the other hand, is a new age term designed to appeal to people who don’t want to deal with that stuff, and who want to feel like their sexuality is inherently less problematic and more open-minded than other sexualities. 

so yeah. i don’t want to go around messaging specific people, even if those people are willingly inserting themselves and their sexualities into the conversation, because i don’t want anyone to feel like they are personally being attacked. but honestly, please think about why pansexuality exists, and why people (or yourself) choose to identify as pansexual when bisexual has always existed and meant exactly the same thing. because it’s all very well to say that “it just feels better”, but that “better feeling” is rooted in and takes advantage of biphobia and no one wants to talk about it or even think about it for fear of being labelled panphobic. 

#bi vs pan #bisexuality #bi discourse #queer

[feralhogs]

.

#Rambling #Are you serious Tumblr I described my whole dream and you just wouldn't post it? #So here's my dream #My gender was walkin around in two halves. One girl side one boy side the latter my pov... Probably has to do with worrying how ppl see me #And this dude fell in love with the girl side and I went up to him and said if you really feel like that #You can't just choose a half you want you have to sign up for the whole deal #And he didn't at first because he was worried about being gay but then he figured stuff out and wrote me a poem #A poem!!!!!! 💗 #Wow... I want someone to write me a poem #And part of it went like... You are the day and the night. Which is pretty good for DREAM POETRY #Meaning genderfluidity ish stuff. Like... Having different sides and energies in a balance #I woke up so happy I felt so understood! #It's been on my mind a lot how to explain how my brand of nonbinary feels #And always feeling torn and unseen with mlm and wlw stuff and mens and womens spaces.... #Not really identifying OUTSIDE of it like some Nb peeps do either. Like wishing someone would recognize #Like you don't see androgynous flags around here #But if you can feel fully like either or both? Lmao people wanted me to be a girl so bad and now I gotta be a Transitioned Absolute Boy. #It's not like I'm likely to present very feminine either...... Specifically....... #I only like to feel like a woman if I can be very masculine. And I only started being comfortable being feminine presenting as male #Someone in the trans group said transitioning and feeling more comfortable and confident can help you get in touch with who you really are #And I think that's what's happened #🤔

[lordelmelloi2]

I hope you don't mind me asking this but what does being femme mean to you personally? I've only heard lesbians/bi women talk about what being femme means to them so I feel like it would be important for others to hear voices from outside of the wlw community.

Hi so yeah like... For years and years and years I have ID’d as femme even outside of being a lesbian and that’s because femme is a much more widely used term in general when it comes to gender? 

The first time I ever heard “femme or butch” was actually on The Simpsons if you believe me, Bart was picking up a gay man’s magazine and he asks Marge “Mom, am I femme or butch?” and she replies “Oh, you can be anything you want to be, honey”... In 2013 when I was realizing I’m nonbinary I started to identify as an agender femme because it encompassed my gender feelings at the time and literally it was someone on tumblr who wrote a post about what being agender femme meant to them, I can’t find the post anymore but I remember being so euphoric that I didn’t have to call myself a girl anymore because there Were other words. As an intersex person having “Womanhood” “girlhood” etc. forced onto me has always been really fucked up and traumatic for me so I completely reject that. It’s a topic that people are writing about rn - intersex conversion therapy - the sense that we have to be one gender or another. As someone who is naturally androgynous and has ambiguous junk like! I would’ve preferred to been designated neutral but nooo.... “build a pole is harder than dig a hole” you get the idea.... these doctors are so fucking messed up. Anyways -

For me across sexuality exploration tbh being femme has always been a way to describe my presentation and performance of gender. Like regardless of what my junk looks like, or the way my jawline is, or the butchness of my face I’ve always been more into the femme methodology of gender performance... And for me I specifically experience the way that gay femmes tend to do things, you know, limp wristing, hand motions, the accent, the way of speech, like... Despite being intersex I grew up basically like a femme gay guy. The whole Barbie Girl thing, but always knowing I’m not a Girl or Girl Enough anyways, so it was always in a sense of camp or fashion appreciation solely... the only way I can think to describe my feelings is literally through a song lmfao 

I didn’t learn about Vogue and Ballroom and houses until 2016 when I was in college and I was immediately not just entranced but had like most of my life and presentation choices just outright explained right then and there. Like being femme to me is being Ballroom Femme. I didn’t know that... for my whole life the way I walked and talked and performed and moved and messed around with my friends, the way I moved my hands and posed and such, was Literally just be voguing and walking runway without even knowing it. It was like having a home I never knew about. I met Kemar Jewel of the House of Lanvin in college because he did a presentation AND hosted a mini-ball and he introduced all of us to ballroom, to vogue and I like... I still have him on facebook LOL I consider him a role model and ALSO you should know this, but the House of Lanvin recently announced they were partnering with THE ACTUAL LANVIN BRAND which is literally monumental for ballroom house history like it’s fucking huge But anyways enough of me fanboying over ballroom like this

I’m not sure if it makes much sense to people who aren’t like, involved or know about ballroom? But being femme to me is about ... acknowledging that my presentation and moreso Performance are femme in nature and having that sense of like... I am femme in the ballroom kind of way. I always felt kind of alienated from lesbian identity for a lot of reasons ultimately (i need to change my icons but im delaying it) 

https://depaul.digication.com/davis-hon-100/home This article is a REALLY really good summary of the extent of femme as an identifier and how it intersects with lesbians/wlw, gay communities and trans identity  

#Anonymous

[actuallyrandomperson]

I wanna ramble about how I experience dysphoria as a genderfluid person for a bit, and my identity in general, so I figured Tumblr was a good place to do it.

So, for starters, I should probably clarify how I'm fluid, as all of us are a little different in how we experience gender. I was assigned female at birth, and, to be completely honest, I wish I was amab. This shocks some people, especially as I tend to sit on the female/demigirl/nonbinary side of things, but it's true. Realistically, I know my life would be a lot different if I had been, and I would have experienced a different set of struggles, but in an idealistic world, where nothing would change about me except the way my body looked and what pronouns were used for me, I'd want to be assigned male. I could not care less what genitals I have, especially since I'm ace so it has no real effect on how I'm gonna live my life, this relates back to the two other most obvious issues with being afab: Periods, and boobs.

I hate getting my period. As most people do. I don't even have particularly painful ones, just some semi-bad cramps on the first day or two, but I hate it anyway. 9 times out of 10 I'm non-binary on the first day of my period. Whether that's related to hormone levels or some subconscious part of my brain whispering "hey periods suck being a girl sucks why were u born a girl", I do not know. I just know it happens.

I also hate my boobs whenever I'm not female. Including when I'm demigirl. I don't hate the idea of boobs in general when I'm demigirl, and don’t think I need to be completely flat-chested to feel happy when I’m non-binary (but that could come back to me doubting I’ll get fully flat without surgery), I just hate my boobs. That is because I am incredibly busty, especially for someone who is 5'1/155 cm tall. I'm an Aus 10G/US 32I, I have small shoulders (my straps slip down no matter how tight we pull them), and a large part of what made figuring out my gender identity hell was the constant question of whether me hating my boobs was an ace thing (not wanting to be constantly sexualised) or a gender thing. My best fitting bra actually helped me figure that out, as reportedly it made me look smaller (i.e. technically less likely to be sexualised) but it had the side benefit of making my boobs, well, actually look like boobs, and when I looked at myself in the mirror I wanted to claw my eyes out. So. 90% of the time I hate my boobs because they're so big, and 100% of the time I hate my period.

You might be sitting here, reading this, and going "but Em, are you sure you're genderfluid? Not just demigirl or nonbinary or agender or any of the other non-binary identities?" My answer to that is, well, sorta no. And sorta yes. No, in the fact that I've never been sure about anything in my life. Maybe time will go on, and I'll begin to identify with some other label, or no labels at all. Yes, in the fact that genderfluid feels right right now, and that's all that matters. Humans change. In turn, labels can change too. Hell, as a genderfluid person, my labels technically change on almost a day to day basis! That doesn't make my feelings and my identity at any single moment any less valid. It also doesn't mean that long term, I'll wake up one day and realise that I actually just identify with x gender. It just means that it could happen, and that’s ok, just as it's okay that my identity is changing constantly at the moment. Side note, while we're talking about labels- you also don't need to identify with one! I personally like to use them, as they bring me comfort, but everyone is different, and y'all who choose not to use labels for whatever reasons are entirely valid.

I have 4 main types of day, gender-wise. Days where I feel like a girl, days where I feel kinda like a girl, days where I feel non-binary, and days where my gender is that 'women' shrugging emoji (that I use all the time because long hair babeyyyy also their shirt is purple on iOS and purple rules). Day 4 I mostly lump under demigirl, as with day 2. Day 3 could probably be most accurately described with agender, or a similar identity label, but I find it personally easiest to just refer to myself as non-binary on said days.

In a hard to explain way, I feel as though I experience less dysphoria on days where I am demigirl than on days where I am fully female. This is not entirely accurate, and is almost certainly as a result of me having unintentionally put in place coping mechanisms for said days in terms of how I present myself for years now, and probably isn’t the right terms for me to use, but it's true.

You see, I dress in a fairly gender-neutral way. My presentation has still always come off as feminine, as I love my long hair and enjoy nail polish, but I've always hated shaving, and I avoid wearing dresses and skirts as much as possible in my day-to-day. I don't mind wearing dresses etc when I'm demigirl, I just don't gravitate towards them, and when I'm demigirl I generally present as a not-overly feminine girl whose a little uncomfortable with their body shape and likes to be comfy, and wears heels in an effort to be taller rather than as a fashion statement.

But when I'm fully a girl, I often love being feminine. I usually want to wear dresses/skirts, and jewellery, and lipstick (not any other makeup though, years of dance and stage makeup ruined me- if someone puts it on for me and it's not heavy/powdery I'm not actively adverse, though), and have my hair braided, and generally just to Get Prettied Up. But that’s not 'me' to other people. That’s not the person I've presented myself as for years. I've spent my entire life catering to my demigirl and non-binary days because they're more common, and whenever I do lean into my feminine self on girl days my family and a lot of my friends are kinda surprised. I wore lipstick and nice clothes to two separate movie hangouts with two different friends, and one of them (who I hadn't seen in a while, to be fair) commented on how it was unusual for me while the other looked visibly surprised. It's not a coincidence that the two irl people I'm out to outside of my schools lgbt+ club are my brother and my best friend- both of whom complimented me (in a non-creepy way with my brother slvjfk) when they saw me wear lipstick for simple things last year, without making a big deal out of it. My mum still acts shocked and gets excited about me being feminine when I express an interest into buying clothes from a particular brand (Princess Highway/Dangerfield in general, for my fellow Aussies, as I don’t think they exist in the US) even though I've been getting presents from there for a few years now. She's talked about slowly starting to replace my clothes with 'fashionable stuff' from places like Dangerfield as the years go on now that I've 'expressed an interest in nice clothes' and I feel anxiety start to ball up in my stomach, because I don't want to wear fashionable clothes all the time, because fashionable for me, closeted and big-chested as I am, means feminine. When I present or show interest in presenting in a more feminine way on my female days, my mother and a few people I'm surrounded by unintentionally make me feel guilty about not wishing to present like that all the time, make my dysphoric for my future and past self, and make me doubt myself as a genderfluid person because I wish to present as my birth gender on one day.

So rather than dealing with all that, I don't present in a more feminine way unless I'm going out, and even then, avoid wearing lipstick if my mum is home, or coming with me. If I can, I'll stick a tube into my bag to apply when I get to wherever I'm going, but it's not always possible. I have Safiya Nygaard’s colourpop collection hidden away in my room. I continue to present myself in a way that aligns more closely in my mind to my demigirl days, with the slight change of being able to actually look at myself in the mirror for extended periods of time, being ok with my slightly more tight-fitting tops, and being chill with wearing my best bra. And I feel, as a whole, dysphoric on these days. I am not happy with how my gender presentation is, because it does not reflect how I want to present. Dysphoria is probably not the exact right term to use to describe these feelings, given I'm afab but it is the easiest way for me to put it, as it most closely reflects the unhappiness I feel with my presentation on my non-binary days, it's just my non-binary days come with a whole lot more body-related dysphoria piled on top. A song I like to listen to on female days is Platform Ballerinas, by MIKA, as it helps remind me that I am a girl, and the way I'm presenting as a girl is valid even if it's not exactly how I want to (it doesn't actually fully come back to societal expectations placed on women because I might shave my armpits but my leg hair still stays, and I genuinely want to get prettied up rather than feeling like I should to be seen as a girl, it's just something I want to do and not being able to makes me feel whack, but the song is definitely more focused on the whole 'societal expectations suck y'all are all valid' thing).

Non-binary days suck in the same way I've heard a lot of trans people of all varieties discuss. I hate walking past mirrors, if I have to wear feminine clothing for whatever reason I feel like I'm going to cry, she/her pronouns kinda make me want to die (generally I'm chill with she/they, and on female days they/them is okay, but she/her on nonbinary days makes my dysphoric as hell), and I generally Do Not Have A Great Time dysphoria wise. But hey, one day I’ll have enough money for a binder. Eventually. I always feel weird about entering giveaways given there are people who experience extreme dysphoria around their chest every day, I can deal on my demigirl days and survive on my non-binary ones.

So, that’s been me rambling into the void about gender for almost 2000 words, how are y’all doing? Also, if anyone actually read all of this I’d appreciate like,,, a like. Or something. I kinda want to know if people have actually seen and read this.

#genderfluid #gender fluid #lgbt #lgbt+ #lgbtq #lgbtq+ #lgbtqia #lgbtqia+ #lgbtqa #lgbtqa+ #trans #dysphoria #tw: dysphoria #tw: period talk #period talk #my experiences #rambling #demigirl #demi-girl #nonbinary #non-binary #gender identity #gender presentation

[clockwork-dinosaur]

i wrote this almost two years ago now and cleaned it up last semester to turn in as an English project! i wanted to do something a little dystopian with a focus on family. i also wanted a nonbinary protagonist and an autistic character and main characters who aren’t white, and this is that! i could probably write this better now but overall i’m pretty okay with how it turned out

summary: young adult Yamni finally gets an apartment of their own; a new life for them and their younger brother. Unfortunately their past is not easily left behind and the stakes are high as they complete one final job for the criminal organization from which they escaped.

word count: ~8770

warnings: minor violence, misgendering

Yamni was used to silence in their apartment. It was often a comfortable silence, broken occasionally by the turning of a page or a cough, signs that told them that their younger brother was still awake and hadn't fallen asleep face first in his book again. Aariv wasn't one to break the silence with conversation, and nether were they.

That morning's silence wasn't comfortable. Aariv sat coldly at the dining table of the small, one-bedroom apartment they lived in, backpack at his feet and school uniform neatly pressed.

“Listen, if I had a choice, I'd send you back to Goodview, but we moved out of that school zone. I'm sure Washington is just as nice.” Yamni said softly, nibbling on the toast that both of them had every day for breakfast. Government rations didn't leave much room for variety.

Aariv shrugged miserably, breakfast untouched.

“And it's a first day for me too, remember? It's a day of firsts, we'll both get through it. When we get home tonight, we can talk about all the interesting stuff we see today, right?”

Another shrug. Yamni was used to Aariv not talking, but that morning it felt different. They decided to leave him alone, worried that they were coming across as overbearing.

“Love you, bro.” they said, standing and tossing the plastic dishes in the sink. They leaned down and hugged their brother, and he accepted the hug wordlessly, as he did most things.

“I need to go get dressed still, but I think school starts soon for you, right? Maybe you should get a move on. You'll be home before me, so I want you to do your homework as soon as you get home, alright?”

Aariv nodded, grabbed his backpack and headed slowly for the door.

“I was serious about the getting a move on part, dude.”

He sighed and walked normally. He opened the door and left the apartment, face set in an expression of wary annoyance.

Yamni sighed. Even after six years, they weren't used to playing the sole parent figure in Aariv's life. Their parents both ended up dead in a factory fire and left them with nothing. Thoughts of their parents left a bitter taste in Yamni's mouth, and they shook their head to clear it.

This morning was a fresh start. New school for Aariv. New job for Yamni. An apartment that wasn't overrun by rats and roaches. A chance to move forward, or at least give them a fighting chance to stay above-water. Yamni hoped that eventually they wouldn't rely on government assistance anymore, but that seemed unlikely.

They sighed as they pulled on the ugly jumpsuit that all factory workers were required to wear, stubbornly not thinking about the fact that it was nearly identical to the one their parents had zipped up into on that last day.

They picked up the folder on their nightstand that held their identification and everything they needed for the first day on the job. They nodded as they flipped through, making sure almost everything was filled out. The basics were all there, aside from the box labeled “gender” with two options- male and female. They left that one blank. Let their boss figure that one out.

They looked around the room one last time and nodded. Without a backwards glance, they left their apartment, locking the door behind them.

The gray factory loomed over the mag-lev train, windowless and more opposing as they got closer. Yamni felt a rare flutter of nervousness in their chest, but quickly shut it down. This was just another factory, just another job.

Unlike many of Yamni's previous jobs, this one was completely legal.

As the train whirred to a stop, Yamni straightened their back and stepped out with everyone else. They followed the crowd into the building, the scent of heated metal and gasoline quickly overwhelming them and making them nearly lightheaded. They coughed a few times.

Another worker, an older gentleman, glanced at them knowingly.

“Don't worry, ma'am. You get used to it pretty damn quick.”

Yamni nodded. “Thanks. I'm not a ma'am though.”

The man nodded slowly. “Sorry then.”

The rest of the workers were nearly silent as they took their places in the assembly line. Yamni walked through the rows of hulking machines and into the office.

“Hello, I'm Yamni Batra, this is my first day.” they said to the man behind the desk. He nodded once, typing their name into the terminal imbedded in the desk.

“Files?” he asked in a monotone. They passed them over. He didn't even glance at them before nodding.

“For now, you're on janitorial duty. That may change within the next few weeks, since this is your first day.”

Yamni nodded, already feeling boredom cloud their mind as he explained where the other cleaning staff could be found.

By the time the end of the workday rolled around, Yamni was more than happy to get back onto the crowded mag-lev train home and out of the loud, cramped factory. The jumpsuit felt too warm, and everyone bumping them made them want to scream. The hurried off the train and half-ran home through the dirty city streets. It was a cool evening, but the heat of the factory still seemed to press against their skin. They rolled their sleeves up, thinking longingly of the shower at home.

They went up the stairs to the small apartment, sighing as they got up. Yamni liked to think they had high endurance after all they've been through, but the day had taken a lot out of them and they were completely exhausted.

They turned their front door handle, bumping it a bit.

It didn't budge.

Confused, they unlocked the door, walking in to the dark apartment.

“Aariv?” they called quietly. With a pang of fear they checked the bedroom, hoping to see their younger brother in bed, his blanket pulled up to his short dark hair as it always was when he slept.

The bed was as neatly made as it was when he left for school.

Yamni's breath seemed to choke them as they looked in every corner of the tiny apartment.

“If this is some kind of joke Aariv, it isn't fucking funny!” they called, chest heaving. They scrambled for the house phone, dialing the number for Aariv's school with desperate fingers.

“Hello, Washington Middle School.” the bored voice on the other end droned.

“I'm looking for my brother, Aariv Batra. He's a student, in sixth grade.” Yamni said breathlessly, pacing.

“And you're his guardian?” the other person asked.

“Yes, Yamni Batra. Please, did he stay after school or something?”

“I can call his homeroom teacher and check for you, if you'd like?”

“Yes pl-” they started, before the on-hold tone began. They took the time to change out of the gray jumpsuit and into an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, the phone still held to their ear. They pulled their hair back into a short ponytail. A few minutes later, the hold tone ended and the bored voice was back.

“He left with the rest of his class today. Is everything okay?”

Yamni didn't answer, bringing the call to an end with a shaking hand. Quickly, they ran out the front door, eyes wide.

Night had fallen completely, and the oppressive heat of the day had died down, the air almost freezing against their overheated skin as they traced the steps to their brother's bus stop. Yamni wasn't sure what that would accomplish, but just staying at home alone while Aariv was out there, lost or worse, was useless.

The streets were quiet, most people at home. With curfew only a few hours away, most stores were closed and nobody wanted to risk being out too late.

Their heartbeat nearly matched the speed of their footfalls on the pavement as they ran, breathing erratic from fear.

They reached his bus stop within a few minutes, looking around for anything; his backpack, him playing or waiting or lost, any sign that he was there.

The street was empty.

Yamni swallowed a scream, turning and walking back they way they came. They nearly ran up the steps to their apartment and stopped dead in front of the old, painted white door.

A familiar insignia was burned into it, crossed daggers above a rose.

They felt their heart stop. Shook their head, rubbed their eyes, anything to convince themself that they were only seeing things. Shaking fingers traced the brand, still warm beneath their fingers.

They knew where Yamni lived.

With trembling hands they opened the door, resisting the urge to scream in the empty apartment. They closed the door behind them and locked it, knowing that that action was futile. If someone really wanted to get in, one lock wouldn't stop them.

Yamni allowed themself ten minutes. They dropped to their knees on the floor, tears burning their way down their cheeks as they pressed their balled fists to their temples.

“Fuck, fuck!” they repeated in a whisper, angry and terrified.

They knew who had Aariv. Their former employers had found them.

Yamni knew that life wouldn't be easy for two orphans with nearly nothing to their name. The factory would only pay expenses for six months after the death of their parents, and after that Aariv and Yamni were on their own.

Yamni also knew that they would do anything to keep Aariv with them and out of a government orphanage, to be nothing more than a laborer for the rest of his life. After the factory stopped paying them and the bills came in, Yamni took Aariv and ran. They knew how reckless that was, but desperation made them stupid. After two months on the street, hiding from cops in back alleys and stealing old food from stores, Yamni was ready to do anything to find money for a place to stay, if only to keep Aariv safe.

Anything, including armed robbery and mugging.

That's when Daniel came along.

He looked like an easy mark. Blonde hair slicked back, suit expensive, face buried in his cell as he walked down the empty street at a leisurely pace.

Yamni, though thin, was very strong, and they didn't hesitate to pull the man aside into a back alley and press the blade of their knife to his throat.

“Your money, now!” they barked.

The man only smirked. “That your brother over there?” he asked, undisturbed by the six-inch blade that was only one muscle twitch away from severing his jugular as he tilted his jaw at Aariv, who stared out from behind a dumpster with wide, dark eyes.

“Don't you fucking look at him! Give me everything you got, now!” Yamni demanded again.

He smirked, then before Yamni could even follow his movements, he had both of their arms behind their back and their face pressed to the ground.

“Yamni!” Aariv cried, taking a step toward the two.

“Get back!” they demanded, writhing underneath the knee on their back.

“You're not scary, kid.” the man said, right in their ear. “But I can see you being quite formidable, given a bit of training. I have a business offer for you.”

Within a week, Yamni and Aariv found themselves in a compound of sorts. Though there were no official borders around the area, Yamni knew where they and their brother were supposed to be at all times. As generous as the man's offer was, he was not a good man, and they didn't want to risk crossing him.

Yamni found out exactly what kind of work offer Daniel had given them once they were instructed to put on a heavy winter coat in early fall.

“Isn't it a bit warm for this?” they asked him. He smirked.

“Well, we can't have you just carrying around a bag full of cocaine, now can we?” he laughed at Yamni's horrified expression.

“This jacket-?”

“Yes, it contains a few grams. It's a special kind of cloth, one that confuses drug sniffers. You could walk right by a police station and nobody'll bat an eye. I wouldn't recommend it though.”

“Why am I the one who has to wear it?”

“You're young and innocent-looking, kid. Nobody's going to stop you and search you for drugs. But you need to stop looking so scared or people're going to ask what's wrong. You and your brother want to stay here, right? Food and board and all that?”

Yamni nodded slowly, to Daniel's pleasure. “Then you'll do what I ask.”

That wasn't the last time they put on that jacket. After a few months, Daniel had them running more and more dangerous things, the bottom of the jacket slightly heavy under the weight of a firearm or illegal tech.

On one of Aariv's rare talkative nights, he asked them a million questions, most of which they refused to answer, the information too sensitive to be told. But Yamni knew exactly who and where much of the drug dealers in the city were. This wasn't information that a child needed, and knowledge that would get him hurt if he had it.

Yamni had idle thoughts of taking the goods for themself, selling it for a higher profit than Daniel was giving them. They knew they'd be dead within days of doing that, and Aariv as well.

So they suffered. Collected every cent that Daniel gave them. And years later, they had enough to run, to get their own apartment with their brother on the other side of town, and start their own life.

Yamni knew, deep down, that running would never have worked. Their idealistic thoughts were shattered by the silence of their apartment, the lack of her brother's warmth and presence making the cramped apartment seem huge and empty.

A few minutes passed before they wiped their tears away, taking a few deep breaths. They had nothing left to do except go back to Daniel and demand their brother back.

They shuddered as that man's face crossed their mind, a wave of revulsion tearing their stomach in two, but worry for Aariv overshadowed that.

The clock on the wall showed ten at night, an hour left until curfew. Taking the mag-lev wasn't an option, their recreational travel pass had expired years ago. With a sigh, they re-laced their work boots and headed back out the door.

Being a runner for Daniel and his crew had some benefits. Yamni knew how to get from one end of the city to the other, avoiding main traffic ways and hotspots of police activity, in under half an hour. Fear for their brother and anger at Daniel had them going faster than they had before, and before they could formulate a plan, they were in his territory. It was exactly how they remembered it, the buildings' windows dark as they walked through the empty street. They knew that they were being watched from the moment they'd stepped over the unspoken territory line. They were unsurprised when they found their path blocked by two men, faces unfriendly as they stared Yamni down. They walked up to the men confidently, jaw set and eyes hard.

“Take me to Daniel.” they demanded.

“You don't make the rules around here.” the man on the left growled.

Yamni raised an eyebrow. “Then I'll take myself to Daniel. Get out of my way.” they threatened.

“Come with us.” the man said.

“Only if we're going to Daniel.” they insisted.

“Listen here, you runaway little shit-” one man started, taking a step toward Yamni as he reached for the knife at his hip, before being interrupted by a deep voice from one of the buildings.

“That's enough, boys.” Daniel said, stepping out into the street. “I know why the little spitfire's here. Just a friendly chat, nothing more.” he said, tone friendly.

“Give me back my-” Yamni started, before Daniel raised his hand. Immediately they stopped, then scolded themselves for doing so.

“Follow me and all of your questions will be answered honestly.” he said, turning and going back into the building. Yamni followed with their jaw clenched and their fists balled.

“You try anything in there and I'll have you dead in a minute!” one of the burly men called after them. Yamni ignored him, slamming Daniel's door behind them.

“Why the hostility, my dear?” Daniel ashed innocently, hands folded behind his back as he made his way into his office.

“You know why I'm here, you fucking bastard. Give me Aariv.”

“Why all these demands? You know I'm treating him well.” Daniel said as he stood behind his desk. Yamni slammed their hands down in the desk, shaking from fury.

“That's not the point and you damn well know it.” they hissed. “Why would you even take him, you bastard? He's a child!”

Daniel grinned. “You're here, aren't you? What else would get you here so quickly?”

Yamni shuddered as they realized how easy it was to get them here, angry and with no plan. They had done exactly what he wanted them to- they had no choice but to play his game.

“What do you want from me, Daniel? I left, but you saw it coming. You didn't try and stop me. You know I’m not going to tell anyone shit because I don't fucking care and I don't want to be bothered. I'm not a loose end you need to tie up. You didn't need to drag Aariv into all of this. So why?” “Because I need you to do one last thing for me. You think you've paid off all of your debts, that you didn't owe me anything? No, my dear. You've still got quite a bit of payment left to go before I let you leave.”

“Just tell me what you want and give me back my brother.” Yamni said.

“You and your brother can leave, after you do this last thing. Consider it your final payment for the kindness I've shown you over the years.” Daniel said smugly.

“Do I have any choice?” Yamni asked.

“Ask Aariv.” Daniel replied flippantly. “Now, take a seat. There's quite a bit I need to explain, and we're actually on a bit of a schedule.”

Yamni sat in the chair across from him, their dark eyes narrowed as Daniel pulled out several sheets of paper.

“Now, my dear, I've known you for a while now. You're quite the actor. You've got a sort of... confidence about you. You seem to belong exactly where you're at. That's one of the things I've always liked about you.” Daniel started. Yamni eyed him warily. Daniel slid a photograph across the desk.

The woman in the photo stared the camera down almost like a challenge, her black hair was long and straight as it fell down the back of her neatly-pressed suit.

“She's cute. But she's got nothing to do with me.” Yamni tossed the photo back on the desk.

“That's where you're wrong, dear. See, maybe you don't see it but I certainly do, you look very similar to this woman.” Daniel said, holding the photograph up. Yamni looked over the woman again, more carefully,

“Maybe. My jaw line’s a bit stronger and her nose is more narrow, but I can almost see it. And of course, her hair is longer.” Yamni conceded.

“Yes, but with a bit of makeup and some temporary prosthetics, you'll be her twin.”

“Okay, hold on here.” Yamni said, holding up their hand. “Who is this woman? Why do I need to be her twin?”

“This is Anna Patel, the Indian ambassador.” Daniel said. “She was traveling through our city, staying in one of the nicest hotels here.”

Yamni's stomach dropped. “Was?”

“Well, now she's somewhat... held up. But we can't let her meeting with our president go unattended!” Daniel grinned.

“Are you... fuck, are you saying you want me to stand in for this woman?” Yamni asked breathlessly, heart hammering. “This foreign official? Who was meant to meet the president...?” They couldn't wrap their head around it.

Daniel nodded. “Yes.” he said simply.

“You're fucking insane. This isn't running drugs or other shit, Daniel. This is kidnapping and fucking treason. This isn't some petty illegal trade, it's grounds for execution.”  Yamni said, hands balled into fists on the arms of the chair.

“This is big, my dear! Don't you understand who would pay for information directly from the president's meetings?” Daniel said intensely, his blue eyes bright.

“You've fucking lost it, man. I can't do this! I may be good at shedding crocodile tears to get out of some shitty situations, but this is miles out of my league!” The light in Daniel's eyes scared them. They knew he wouldn't be convinced of the futility of his plan.

“You can, dear! I know you can. And I'm sure Aariv is confident in your ability as well.” Daniel leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face as Aariv's name cut through Yamni.

“Let me see him.” Yamni sighed. “Then I'll decide.”

“You're acting like you've got a choice. You will do this. I decide when you see your brother, not you. Consider this a bit of a punishment for running away in the first place.”

“Fuck you.” Yamni spat.

“Not interested. Time is of the essence, my dear. The train the dear ambassador is supposed to be on leaves at six in the morning and we've got quite a bit to go over before you're ready to go. Are you willing to take her place?” Daniel said, standing and offering his hand to shake Yamni's.

Yamni glared, shaking his hand once with a bit more force than absolutely necessary.

“Doesn’t really matter if I'm willing or not, does it?” they asked bitterly.

“This whole operation will go much more smoothly if you are.” Daniel replied. He walked around the desk and put his arm around Yamni's, much to their discomfort. “Now, I'm going to take you to a makeup artist or sorts. A bit more... high-profile than your average cosmetologist of course, but same basic job, right? And while she's making your face all different, I'll explain exactly what you need to do.”

“Fine.” Yamni sighed, indignant as Daniel led them out of the house and down the street with his arm still around their shoulders.

Yamni let out a sigh of relief when Daniel told them to wait at the base of the set of stairs, leading up to another, nearly identical house. He knocked on the door and a tall, imposing woman answered, her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail. She grinned widely when she saw Daniel at the door.

“Hia, Danny-boy! What can I do for you?” she asked.

“My dear Yamni needs a bit of a makeover! They're the one who's taking the trip for us tomorrow.” he replied. The tall woman looked Yamni over, then nodded.

“He could work pretty well as our stand in.” she said with a nod.

“I'm not a he.” Yamni corrected automatically.

“They?” she asked. Yamni nodded.

“You can't correct people like that while you're standing in for the ambassador.” Daniel said coldly.

Yamni's jaw clenched. “I know that, I'm not a fucking idiot.” they snapped.

“Why don't we take this inside!” the tall woman said, falsely cheery. She led the two inside, closing the door behind Yamni.

“My name is Isa, by the way. It's nice to meet you.” the woman said.

“Yamni.” they said with a polite nod.

“I completely understand the whole correcting people when they call you by the wrong pronoun thing, by the way.” she said with a knowing smile. “It becomes second nature. And it's my personal opinion that you should keep correcting them.” she paused. “Though Daniel's right. Not while you're playing the ambassador.”

“Is now really the time?” Daniel asked, impatience tinging his voice. “We've got less than seven hours before that train leaves and I've still got a lot to explain.”

“Before you explain anything, I need to do some work here. You do look a lot like the ambassador hon, but you still need to be fitted with some prosthetic facial enhancers, and, well...” she mimed breasts, cupping her hands over her chest. “Ya know? So that's gonna happen first, okay? And the fewer people in the room for that, the better.”  Isa said pointedly. “You know where the living room is, Danny.” she said sweetly, putting her hand on Yamni's shoulder and leading them into another room, filled with containers haphazardly stacked on shelves and filled to the brim with what Yamni could only assume were costume supplies.

She sighed as she she closed to door. “I fuckin' hate him.” she muttered.

“Then why do you stay?” Yamni asked.

“He helps pay for things I need. Hormone replacement isn't cheap. I can deal with him though. He's just a fucking prick is all.” she shrugged. “And I'd rather not be aiding a damn criminal, but... sometimes a situation's out of my control.” she paused and looked at Yamni with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry. I talk a lot. Let's get started.” she said, rooting through one of the boxes. “Do you bind your chest or are you naturally flat-chested?” she asked.

“Uh.” Yamni said, slightly uncomfortable as heat rose up their neck.

Isa paused. “I'm sorry. This is going to be pretty awkward, but if you're figured out as an imposter, it's your head on the line. Daniel's covering his tracks. You're the one who's going to take one for the team, and it's not even your team.” she sighed. “I want to help you not get caught and killed because of Daniel's crazy scheme. It's the least I can do, right?”

Yamni nodded. “Thank you. This is so different than anything I've ever done, I'll need all the help I can get.” they admitted. “And I'm naturally somewhat flat-chested.”

“A-cup?” Isa asked, looking through the box.

“Yeah.”

Isa nodded. “I'm definitely going to have to give you prosthetics then. They won't bother you or anything, will they? You know, dysphoria-wise?”

Yamni shook their head. “Not with such a short time. And I feel like I'll be... preoccupied mentally, with everything else. I'll be fine.” Isa nodded again.

“Aaaand you're pretty small, so there might need to be a bit more padding in the clothes. You're just about the same height as the ambassador, so you won't need heels or anything, that's good. Flats are easier to walk in... or run, if you need to.” As she spoke, Isa gathered clothes, makeup, and other things Yamni didn't quite see into a pile on a table.

“Now, try this on if you wouldn't mind, there's a screen over there.” Isa said, handing Yamni a professional-looking business dress and blazer. “I just need to see where I should add some padding and such. Luckily, you'll only be standing in for the ambassador for one day, so you'll only need one set of professional clothes.” Yamni nodded and changed quickly, looking in the mirror with distaste.

Isa looked at them critically. “You look like a kid playing dress-up.” she said bluntly. Yamni opened their mouth to argue, but Isa raised her hand, shaking her head. “That isn't your fault, and I'm not trying to be rude. The ambassador has fifteen years on you, give or take, and you're still not padded out. And you're still growing.”

“I'm twenty-three.” Yamni said.

“Oh. I mean, I was close. I thought you were like seventeen, for cristssake. Twenties or not, you're still too young to be doing this.” She muttered.

“I wish I didn't have to.” Yamni snorted.

“If... you don't mind me asking, why are you doing it then? You ran off before, why not go again, start over. Maybe leave the city if you can.”

“Daniel, that bastard, has my eleven-year-old brother. Won't even let me see him until I do this.” Yamni's blood began boiling, speaking through clenched teeth. “I have no choice.”

Isa's eyes were wide. “I knew he wasn't a good man... But kidnapping a child? That's a new level of low.” she shook her head. “I'm so sorry, Yamni. I'll do my damnedest to make sure you get through this.”

“Thank you.” Yamni said with a sigh. “I just can't wait for this shit to be over.”

“I understand. Let's get on with the padding and such, okay? And in a few days you'll be home and you never have to think of any of this ever again.” Isa said, smiling as encouragingly as possible. Yamni returned the smile halfheartedly.

An hour later, Yamni couldn't recognize the person looking at them in the full-length mirror. That person was at least thirty, with wider hips and larger breasts than Yamni had. That person was decidedly feminine. Yamni glared, a facial expression that was decidedly theirs.

“Well, you may not like it, but you absolutely look like the ambassador when you don't have that murderous expression on your face.” Isa said, looking at her handiwork. “The makeup is extremely long lasting, believe me. You'll definitely be fine for one train ride and meeting.” she said. “Now to show the completed product to Daniel.” she opened up the door, and walked out, presenting Yamni with a flourish.

“It took you long enough.” Daniel said, stern look directed at Isa.

Isa waved her hand nonchalantly. “You can't rush these things, Danny-boy. And Yamni here looks exactly like our dear ambassador, amiright? You have to admit, I did a fantastic job.”

“That you did.” he admitted. “Now, it's time to talk about what you need to do.” He sat in one of Isa's plush living chairs casually, crossing his legs comfortably.

“Are you discussing this in my house?” Isa asked, eyebrows raised.

“It's not like I can take them elsewhere at the moment. The transport won't be taking Yamni to the train station with the decoy guards until six in the morning. It's past curfew.” Daniel said smugly.

“That's never stopped you before.” Isa challenged.

Daniel stood and opened up his dark blue blazer, showing the 10mm on his hip.

“You really want to argue with me, Isabelle?” he asked casually. Yamni watched Isa freeze, her eyes wide.

“Daniel, for fuck's sake!” Yamni cried. “Put that way, you're scaring her for no reason, you asshole!”

A silent, tense moment passed before Daniel let his jacket fall, sitting back down. He gestured at the couch in front of him. “Sit.”

Yamni sat stiffly on the couch.

“You can leave, Isa.” he said, waving her off. Isa left without a word.

“You're a fucking prick, you know that?” Yamni said.

Daniel shrugged. “That doesn't matter. What matters is you getting the information I need.”

“What made you go from small-time smuggler to a fucking kidnapping anti-government spy and criminal informant?” Yamni hissed.

“The money, my dear! I can get millions for any government information, anything that will help other groups cause some trouble and unrest.”

“You're going to help the anti-government crazies for money? I mean, I know you're a greedy dick, but that seems a bit too high-stakes, even for you.”

“Well, consider this then- the more general unrest there is, the more people will want to feel protected with weapons, or want to feel calmer with some self-medication. More business for me.”

Yamni shook their head. “You're fucking nuts, man.”

“So says you. But we aren't talking about me right now, miss ambassador Anna Patel. You need to nail down her mannerisms and voice perfectly.” he said.

“I'm no actor.” Yamni said bitterly.

“Anyone can learn with a bit of persuasion. I've got a few videos and such here, and those will explain her political affiliations and opinions as well.” Daniel said, pulling out his cell and enabling the  hologram screen.

“I don't think watching some videos is going to help me here, Daniel.” Yamni said doubtfully.

“Well you'd better learn all you can, my dear. We don't have too long until your transport leaves. You've got to learn all you can.”

Yamni glared as the video started. The ambassador's voice was a bit lower than theirs, and had more force behind it than Yamni had. Yamni could hear her years of experience in her voice.

“You are rather lucky though, the ambassador isn't expected to speak so much in this meeting, she's only there to represent her country, not to give a speech. You could play off any vocal issues as a sore throat.” Daniel said, as he loaded up another video.

“I think I understand her voice now.” Yamni said, trying out speaking in the unfamiliar voice. They felt absolutely ridiculous.

“Hm. Almost. You need more conviction behind it, maybe just a bit lower. And don't make that face while you speak, you need make everything look natural.”

“When the hell did you become a professional actor?” Yamni said, dropping the voice. “I can't do this, it's useless and far too risky.”

“It won't be useless if you pull this off without an issue, and it's not risky if you do everything I say.” Daniel said, standing and glaring at Yamni, finger jabbing the air as he made his point. “Now, you will do this, my dear. Any more dissension and Aariv will face the consequences.” Yamni's blood went cold and they nodded, jaw clenched.

“Now,” Daniel said as he sat down, “this video will better explain the ambassador's mannerisms when confronted with views she disagrees with...”

Yamni's nerves spiked as six in the morning approached. They looked at the clock with a pounding heart as Daniel stood.

“Well miss Patel, good luck in your meeting with the president.” Daniel said with a kind smile. Internally, Yamni shuddered, but plastered a friendly smile on their face as Daniel stood.

“And of course, one last thing.” he said, pulling a box out of his pocket. He took a step closer to Yamni, a few inches too close for comfort. “You need to wear this of course. Your clothes already have bioscanner tricks in them, I made sure. But this will make everything one hundred percent certain.” He smiled as he gently moved the long black wig from the back of Yamni's neck and clasped a small round pendant around their neck. It felt strangely warm on their skin and far too heavy for its size.

“And this will act as a very high-quality recording device.” he said, taking Yamni's wrist and slipping a bracelet on. “To start it, simply twist the gem.” he said, tapping it. Every touch from Daniel made Yamni's skin crawl, and as soon as they were able, they took a step back.

Daniel looked at his watch with a smile. “Your transport to the train station is almost here, miss Patel. You'd better get ready to go.”

Isa stepped into the room hesitantly. She refused to look at Daniel as she stepped up to Yamni, handing them a purse.

“This has makeup and such in it, if you need to touch anything up.” she said stiffly. She softened a bit as she focused on Yamni. “Good luck, Yamni.”

They nodded. “Thank you again, Isa. For everything.”

“Enough. It's time for you to head out, your transport is here and you don't have time for this.”

Yamni took a deep breath, clutching the strap of the purse to feel grounded. They had no clue what to expect, but Aariv's life depended on them. They took another deep breath, straightened their back, and walked out the front door.

The car waited for them in front of Isa's house, black and slick in the early morning light. Yamni walked with as much confidence as they could manage, stepping into the car. The man behind the wheel glared. Yamni glared right back, recognizing the man from the night before.

“I can't wait to never see you again.” Yamni said.

“Fuck off.” the man replied, and he began driving.

“How'd Daniel manage to get a car anyway? You need a government pass and a shit-ton of money for private vehicles.” Yamni said, after twenty minutes, the curiosity overtaking their dislike of the man.

“This is your car, ambassador Patel.” the man said sarcastically.

“Daniel stole this car? Are you fucking serious?”

“Kidnapping the ambassador was a bit more complicated than originally thought, and we needed a quick get away. Now are you going to shut up and let me focus or are you going to bother me the whole way to the train station?”

Yamni leaned back in the seat, staring out the window at the passing buildings that reached for the sky and scrapped the clouds. It had been years since they'd been in a car, and they were enjoying the ride despite the situation. Sadness wrapped around their throat when they realized how much Aariv would have enjoyed the ride as well.

The ride was over far too quickly for Yamni's comfort. They stepped out of the car into the crowded station, the large man cutting through the crowd, acting as Yamni's body guard. Yamni let themself slip into the role of Anna Patel, walking confidently and not making eye contact with anyone as they walked onto the posh government car of the train.

Aariv could speak, if he really wanted to. He rarely saw a reason to, and he was silent even as he was grabbed from behind and pulled into a back alley. He didn't call for help as he was shoved into the back of a black car with heavily tinted windows, and it didn't occur to him to do anything than stare, dazed and afraid, at the driver. The burly man didn't look at the boy as he pulled out of the alley with a screech of tires, nobody around to notice as the illegal car sped down the road and away from Aariv's home.

When he was pulled from the car by a man twice as tall as he was, he didn't say anything.

When he was presented to Daniel without a word from the henchman, he didn't say anything.

When Daniel stared him down, one eyebrow raised and a smug expression on his face, he finally spoke.

“Fuck you.”

Daniel laughed once, a harsh bark that cut through the room. “That's it? That's what you're gonna greet me with? Goddamn, you're just like your sibling.” The man stood, walking around his neat mahogany desk and pinching the boy's chin between his fingers.

“Listen here, brat. You're expendable here. You're a pawn. You, I don't need. Your sibling is the one I’m trying to get a hold of. And any minute now, Yamni will come through that door, spitting fire, and they will do everything I say. Wanna know why?” he asked, leaning in close. The boy's deep brown eyes bored into the older man's.

“Because, if they don't I will kill you. I will kill you slowly and make them watch every single second. And if you're rude I might just do it anyway. So don't fuck with me, kid.”

With that, Daniel let go of Aariv. Aariv didn't react, only watching with a deep frown as Daniel walked back around his desk and sat in his plush leather office chair. Daniel gave him a wide smile, throwing his arms open in welcome.

“Welcome back, kid.”

Aariv said nothing, of course. He had very little contact with Daniel, even while Yamni was working for him. All he knew was that he was a very bad man, cunning and ruthless. Yamni never admitted it but Aariv could tell- they were afraid of him. After they took Aariv and left, they seemed happier than he had seen them since before their parents died.

Aariv's frown deepened. Coming back wouldn't be good for Yamni, and whatever Daniel needed them for was bound to take a toll on them. For the first time since being thrown in that terrifying position, Aariv was afraid.

The next hour was spent in silence. Aariv staring Daniel down as the man went about his own business undisturbed by the murderous stare of the eleven year old boy. It wasn't until a man came in, his face set in a permanent scowl saying that they were here, did Daniel look at Aariv again. He seemed to make a split-second decision and pointed at Aariv.

“Take him downstairs. Don't let him make a sound.” With that, Daniel left the room, leaving Aariv with the angry man.

Aariv opened his mouth, but before he could scream or call out, the man's fist lashed out and everything went dark.

It took a moment for Aariv to remember what happened to him. He sat up quickly, a soft blanket falling off of his shoulders as he blinked into the dimly lit room. He was on a soft couch, a pillow underneath him and a blanket wrapped around him. A woman sat on a chair nearby, looking nearly as caught off guard as Aariv felt.

“Hia,” the woman said, her low voice comforting. Aariv only stared at her, sitting up on the couch and kicking the blanket off.

“Uh, I'm Isa,” she said. “I know you're Aariv, Yamni's brother. And I know you must be scared.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry that you and Yamni are in this situation, but Yamni will be back soon, and you both can go on your way, safely.” She gave the boy her best reassuring smile. Aariv didn't react.

“Are you thirsty?” she asked. Aariv hesitated before nodding once.

“Is water okay?”

Another nod. Isa stood with a nod of her own and headed off to her kitchen, leaving Aariv alone to look around. Folded on a nearby table were Yamni's clothes, their boots sitting neatly on top. Aariv felt tears well up in his eyes. His head hurt and he didn't know where Yamni was, he was kidnapped and scared and suddenly it was all too much. With a gasp he broke into sobs, deep shaking breaths wracking his small frame as he hugged his knees close to his chest and let the tears flow.

Isa returned with wide yes, the water bottle in her hand all but forgotten as she sat next to the crying child.

“Oh hon, please don't cry, everything will be okay,” she muttered softly, rubbing Aariv's back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. Aariv tolerated her touch, too caught up in his emotions to stop her anyway. He felt alone, even as the nice woman rubbed his back and cooed soft words.

He cried for ten long minutes, and part of him realized in a detached sort of way that he hadn't cried so much since his parents died. That thought brought on another wave of tears and another wound of comforting words from Isa.

Finally, the tears trickled to a stop. He took a few deep breaths that hitched in his throat. Isa offered him the water bottle, slightly closer to room temperature, and he took it gratefully.

Isa looked at the clock. “Yamni should be- no, will be back within the hour,” she said with a warm smile. “You're almost home free, kiddo, don't worry, okay?”

Aariv didn't bother to nod, and instead laid back down, his eyes watching the clock as the seconds ticked slowly by.

Yamni left the meeting room with shaking legs, flanked on both sides by body guards. Their mind reeled, trying to comprehend the things that were said in that meeting.

Daniel truly had no idea what he had thrown Yamni into.

The guards escorted Yamni back to the ambassador's car quickly, not letting anyone take a clear picture of them or letting anyone stop them for questions. Yamni hadn't needed to talk through the meeting, only turning on the recording device when it began and switching it off with shaking hands when everything was said and done.

The ride back to Daniel's place was silent aside from the rumble of the asphalt underneath the tires. Yamni only stared at the bracelet recording device that felt like it weighed several tons hanging from their wrist. Their chest felt too tight, their skin too warm and their clothes too constricting in the confines of the car. They had the overwhelming urge to throw themself, and the recorded meeting on them, out of the moving vehicle.

The only thing that stopped them was Aariv. The miles between them and their brother seemed to stretch on for years, until finally they turned down a familiar street and Yamni saw Daniel, his entire demeanor smug as the car rolled to a stop.

Yamni stepped out, their face already set in a glare as they looked up at Daniel up on the top of the stairs. He smiled down at them and threw his arms open.

“Now was that so hard?” he asked, before turning to the door and waving them to follow. Yamni did follow, their fists clenched and teeth gritted as Daniel swaggered into his office and sat at his desk. He held his hand open with a giddy expression. Yamni hesitated.

“You don't know what was said in that meeting, do you?” they asked, their voice low.

Daniel shrugged. “All I know is that it was some sort of exclusive thing, no press allowed inside. Anything said in there must be pretty damn important,” he said. “Now, give me the bracelet.”

“Daniel... this... oh, fucking hell.” Yamni dropped their glare. “Daniel, this information needs to go public, not just to the highest bidder. This is fucked up,” they nearly pleaded.

“I don't care,” Daniel said flippantly, but Yamni registered the doubt that flitted across his face.

“People could die,” they cried. “Daniel, they want to sent a bomb- a fucking nuclear bomb- across the ocean. They want to take out several countries, this will affect, no, this will fucking murder millions!” they shouted.

Daniel stared at Yamni, who gave him a terrified, pleading look in return. Daniel's expression hardened.

“That's not really any of our concern then, is it?”

Yamni blinked.

“Do you really think this won't affect us? Are you really such a stone cold bastard that you can't see that millions of people are going to die-”

“Shut up!” he shouted suddenly, standing and leaning over his desk to get in Yamni's face.

“This information is worth far more than I could have expected. Do you know how much the media would pay for this?”

“Do you know how fast the government would shut down every media station in the entire country?” Yamni spat back.

Daniel leaned back, sitting in his chair and tapping his fingers together thoughtfully.

“War. All-out atomic war. That would be bad for business,” he said quietly. Yamni gave him a dubious look, but didn't interrupt him as he seemed to speak to himself.

“I need to sell this information. I need to stop this from happening as well.” He looked up at Yamni. “No. You need to stop this from happening,” he said.

Yamni shook their head.

“No, I've done my bit. You need to deal with this yourself, I'm fucking done with your plans. I can't do anything anyway.”

“You do care and you know it,” Daniel said, standing again. “You, Ambassador Patel, can do something.” He looked at his watch. “It's still pretty early in the afternoon, you could easily get an audience with the President and make sure nothing bad happens.”

“You're fucking kidding me,” Yamni snorted. “You're nuts, I can't just walk into the president's office. What would I even do?”

“Kill him, obviously.”

Yamni laughed, a desperate giggle that that had no control over. “Of all the idiotic and downright impossible plans I’ve heard, that is by far the worst. I'm no damn assassin, Daniel.”

“Yamni, you could stop this war from happening. If the president's gone-” Daniel started before Yamni shook their head.

“You don't understand, they're all behind it. The vice president, the whole cabinet, every single ambassador in that room knew exactly what would go down.” Yamni shook their head again. “There is nothing we can do at all, Daniel.” Hopelessness made their voice crack, and for the first time in a long time, they sounded young.

Daniel took a step back. “I could make you do this,” he said casually. “Your brother is over at Isa's house, but I could easily send dome men over-”

“Fuck you! You don't understand, you bastard! I could kill the president, I could kill the vice president too, and this will still happen! Too many higher-ups are involved.” Tears streaked down their face, makeup rubbing away as they swiped at their eyes. “Everything is so fucked.”

Daniel slunk back to his desk and sat heavily in the chair. “When?” he asked.

“Next month,” Yamni said.

Daniel nodded. “Alright. I have an idea. I have a lot or connections, connections abroad, connections in the media. I can get this story out, and make a fortune off of it.”

“You really are such a greedy bastard,” Yamni sighed, unsurprised. “You could just give the information away, but you're still going to try and profit off of this.”

“That's business.”

Yamni shook their head. “You know what? I don't care. What the fuck ever, do what you want. I just want to go home with Aariv.” Exhaustion seemed to weigh them down suddenly. Daniel nodded once, sending a quick message, presumably to Isa.

A few minutes later, quick footsteps echoed down the hall and Daniel's office door was thrown open.

“Yamni!” Aariv fried, launching himself into his sibling's arms and squeezing them tight.

“Aariv,” they breathed, feeling his warmth and breathing easily for the first time in what felt like their entire life. “Are you okay?”

Aariv didn't reply, still clinging to Yamni with all the strength in his young arms.

“He wasn't hurt too badly, though there was an incident... Well, he is fine,” Daniel assured Yamni, who only glared in response. Isa nodded.

“He's okay, I took care of him.”

“We're going home,” Yamni said, picking their brother up.

“You need to change first,” Isa reminded them gently. Yamni looked down at their professional outfit and glared. With a scowl at Daniel, they handed Aariv off to Isa.

“Don't let him touch Aariv,” Yamni said, voice low. Isa nodded, and Yamni went around her, grabbing their clothes from the living room and locking themself in the bathroom.

Yamni had never changed their clothes so quickly. Everything about Danel's home was sickeningly familiar and they couldn't get out sooner. The threw the professional clothes in a corner and threw the door open. Daniel gave Yamni a smugly knowing smile. His demeanor radiated that he would be seeing Yamni again soon. Isa handed Aariv over quickly and, with a final glare at Daniel, left.

“Are we going home?”

Yamni flinched. Aariv's voice was weak and shaking from emotion and discomfort. They could tell he would take a while to recover from the ordeal.

“Yeah dude, we're going home.”

“Is it safe?”

Yamni had no idea how to answer that.

#original writing #writing

[drfitzmonster]

“No, please, just... I need to say this.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, wet her lips and cleared her throat. “I’ve had these... feelings for a long time. Like I’m not myself. Like I look in mirror, and I don’t see me. I see... someone else, some twisted version of myself, but she’s not me. She’s not me,” Kara said, jabbing her index finger into her chest. (1/2)

“It’s hard for me to explain. I don’t know the right words. I just know I can’t live like that anymore. I already have to pretend I’m human, and it’s so hard sometimes. I just… I can’t keep everything hidden anymore. It’s killing me. And it scares me because I know that this,” Kara gestured at herself, “isn’t the girl you signed up for. But I have to be me, even if it means—” her voice cracked, “losing you.” (2/2 for DVD commentary)

this part was actually really hard for me to write. i wrote and rewrote it several times before i was finally satisfied with it. 

it hits close to home and i was really thinking about when i told my wife i was nonbinary. i was really afraid of what her reaction would be. i had been talking to my friend about my feelings and all this confusion i was having about my gender, but not to my wife. i bought a binder in secret. i was sure she was going to reject me or think i was weird or tell me i was confused or something like that, but she didn’t do any of those things. she was really accepting and supportive.

that’s where i was pulling from emotionally when i was writing this, that and just a lot of my experience with body image issues and my relationship with mirrors and feeling disconnected from and even hating my own reflection. 

there’s a song by john legend that i really like that always makes me cry (i am crying right now, in fact), “you & i (nobody in the world),” but it addresses women’s complex relationship with mirrors and their own image and how they are perceived and how they perceive themselves. it’s a very powerful song and the video makes it even more powerful and i highly suggest you watch it.

the song the fic is titled after has lyrics that deal with the same thing:

I’ll be your mirrorReflect what you are, in case you don’t knowI’ll be the wind, the rain and the sunsetThe light on your door to show that you’re home

When you think the night has seen your mindThat inside you’re twisted and unkindLet me stand to show that you are blindPlease put down your handsCause I see you

i will also admit that i did think about that song from mulan as well, specifically the line “when will my reflection show who i am inside?”

and i was also thinking about a quote that is often misattributed to anais nin (but appears to have been written by a woman named elizabeth appell): “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

as far as what i think kara’s motivations are and what she’s feeling, i think she wears a lot of masks, and she has these two personas that are sort of her but not quite and she’s constantly trying to figure out which parts of her are real and which parts are part of the lie that keeps her safe.

and she’s always felt like she can be the real kara around lena, and lena makes her feel like a “normal” person, but she’s started having these feelings that make her question who she really is, and now she feels like she’s living a lie and that she’s been lying to the person she loves most and who she can be truly herself around.

and she already carries around a tremendous amount of guilt for having to keep her true identity a secret from people she cares about. she still feels guilty that she ever lied to lena about it, and now she feels like this is just another lie.

so she’s having all these conflicting feelings, and then she’s dealing with this euphoria because she feels like her true self, which she can’t even fully experience because she’s also terrified that lena is going to reject her. not because Lena has ever given her reason to think she’d reject her, but because coming out is scary (i’m sure many of you can relate), especially since she just discovered this very wonderful and amazing thing about herself. it is brand new, like a baby, and she wants to protect it, but she knows she can’t hide it from lena.

kara’s identity has always been a muddy thing for her, especially since coming to earth. she feels fragmented and torn between her human persona and her superhero persona. and she’s been conditioned (mostly for her own safety) to think that revealing the truth about her alien/superhero identity is dangerous, and i think that sort of bleeds into the way she feels about her gender. 

but discovering that she is a butch lesbian, coming out to the people she loves, and living out and openly, are all part of her journey towards integrating these different parts of herself into a cohesive whole. owning her butchness and being secure in her own identity is part what gives her the strength to embody these different personas but still know who she really is deep down inside. 

#butch!kara #butch kara #butch kara danvers #the hair cut fic #dvd commentary game #Anonymous

[hellagaypokemon]

What's up with sense8? I haven't seen it myself, but I thought it was supposed to have decent lgbt representation?

that’s what everyone thinks until you look at it deeper.

like, ya know how someone can say something and you agree with it based on the assumption that the speaker is a decent human being, but then you find out more about their politics and realize what they said had a deeper meaning you didn’t know that makes it actually really, really awful?

what I’m about to tell you about this show is just like that.

the biggest, most awful thing about the series, that is one of those ‘you wouldn’t know it without outside info’ things, is that the authors have a serious gay conversion fetish, and this show is literally that fetish played out on the big screen, where they can make money off it and normalize it in the minds of the masses.

now, for those of us who haven’t watched the show and aren’t familiar with it’s content/plot, the very basic premise is that 8 people become psychically linked (becoming the “sens8″), and basically become part of one giant poly relationship complete with physical and psychic orgies.

seems innocent enough, but once you know more about it, both in the show and outside of it, that becomes really sinister.

if you go to the creators’ fb pages and go back to before the show started, you’ll find both of them, along with other crew members, are obsessed with poly gay conversion.

if you’re not familiar with this particular fetish (first of all, consider yourself lucky, and turn back now if you want to maintain your blissful ignorance), it’s basically getting gay people into a poly m/f relationship (usually a bi person and a het person, for example, a lesbian dating a bi woman who also has a boyfriend), and very slowly, over time “turning” the gay member to make them bi. this is done through the same tactics that cults use (which you can see a lil run down here in a more familiar context if you’re unfamiliar with that) but the ones pertaining to this particular situation look more like shaming gay member for not being more affectionate with the other partner (ie, the bi woman chastizing the lesbian for not wanting to be affectionate with her boyfriend), or the other partner joining sex without permission, ex: the bi woman and lesbian having sex and the man coming in and joining on multiple occasions, only touching the bi woman at first but then going further, all while ignoring and shaming any protests from the lesbian.

it’s defended as “exploring sexual fluidity”, but if the fact that it’s only aimed at making gay people feel m/f attraction isn’t enough of a tip off, that’s literally the new term for conversion therapy (which, for the sake of not going off on a tangent, I will explain in detail with sources at the bottom of this post*)

now, you may be thinking that this sounds awful, but confused as to how this relates to the show. if you haven’t heard, the creators themselves stated when asked about mid-way through season one, once the connection happens and everyone is connected, they feel each other’s feelings, and therefor everyone is now pan.

that’s right, the two gay characters now feel m/f attraction, and are shown enjoying m/f sex (physical btw, not just ‘someone else I’m linked to is having sex while I’m having sex therefor it’s like we’re all having sex with each other at the same time’, no, actual physical m/f sex). in fact, not just enjoying it, but loving it. which is identical to the creators’ fetish. the only difference is it happened instantaneously rather than having to wait for the brainwashing to take affect, making it seem a lot obviously homophobic.

now, you may be thinking that that’s ok, cause there’s straight people that are now pan! that must even it out, right?

no, it doesn’t, cause there’s still a lil problem with that. I mean, it’s still literally gay conversion, making gay people not gay anymore, and nothing can ever even that out, but the straight characters aren’t actually changed. for all intense and purposes, they stay straight. we never see them express same-sex attraction, and they only ever have m/f sex, while the previously gay characters are shown having m/f sex and loving it multiple times. that’s not a coincidence or an accident.

and also, that excuse is even more bullshit when you notice, even though it was said that they’re “all feeling each other’s feelings” their sexuality seems to be the only part they each feel. you have men and women connected, including a trans woman, yet none of them are now nonbinary, nor do any of them ever feel the trans woman’s dysphoria or gain any dysphoria of their own (nor does being connected to men lessen or worsen the trans woman’s dysphoria). this whole “feeling each other’s feelings” ONLY applies to sexuality, and only actually affects the gay people, whom remember, the creators love “fixing”.

and that’s just the main plot of the show! there’s also two gay men who are outside the sens8, who are constantly harassed by a woman who is completely obsessed with gay men.

now, this type of woman does exist irl, they’re known as “f*ghags” in the west and “fujoshi” (meaning “dirty girl”) in the east. they’re basically woman who are the female equivalent of straight men who think lesbians exist for their pleasure. they consume as much gay porn as they can, and harass actual gay men, because through their consumption of us (gay people) in fiction, they’ve forgotten that we’re actual people and do not, in fact, exist for their pleasure.

and that’s literally all she does. she consumes them like they’re her fave anime ship. she literally watches them having sex, and takes pictures of them without their knowledge or consent (most likely for her to squeal over later, since at the time she was too busy masturbating to them), and when confronted about this, when it’s shown how terrified one of the men is to be outed should that physical and undeniable proof fall in the wrong hands, he’s attacked and chastized by the other gay man, his own partner, for not considering the straight fetishist’s feelings, who’s upset that he doesn’t completely love how much she fetishizes them.

literally their only real part in the plot is for the narrative to shame gay men for not loving and embracing how straight female fetishists treat them, through things that are straight up straight people bullshit. (that whole ‘why won’t you come out of the closet, are you ashamed of me???’ thing is complete hetty bullshit, as is a gay man not only being ok with a straight girl treating them like this, but chastising his own partner for not being ok with it. that shit, just straight up does not happen)

and this is literally just the first season stuff, as I refused to learn any more about the show. this tbh, is beyond enough for me to know the show is 100% shit, but fyi, there’s also a fuck ton of racism I haven’t even touched.

you can say on the surface, it has representation/is diverse, and while that’s true, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s actually more regressive than a show with a 100% straight white cast. and just cause the creators are part of the community doesn’t make them exempt from bigotry.

another even better example if you’re still confused as to how that can be, a black gay man is the head writer for the Dear White People TV series, who’s goal with the show was to challenge how black gay men are viewed and portrayed in the media, and he wrote a “lesbian” teacher having an affair with her male student and denying it by continuing to claim she’s a lesbian (can’t have an affair with a male, student or otherwise, if you’re a lesbian) while he makes comments to his classmates about how she “isn’t a lesbian when she’s with [him]”, rolling lesbianism not being real and lesbians being pedophiles/predators all into one awful caracature of a character.

just cause he’s a gay man doesn’t mean he can’t be homophobic, and perpetuate specifically lesbophobic stereotypes.

just like how just because the creators of sens8 are trans and made a show full of diverse characters doesn’t mean they can’t be homophobic and racist. just like how just cause a show is diverse doesn’t mean it can’t be the mouthpiece for bigotry. bigotry doesn’t only come from the completely privileged in shows that only have token minority characters.

and that goes for everyone. I see far too often “I can’t be homophobic, I’m [insert non-straight sexuality here]” and it’s bullshit. you can be part of the community and be wildly homophobic. my byf page is full of links to both straight people and other LGBT people who could not hate lesbians more if they tried. hell, I’d be willing to bet my list of links is more diverse than the show.

so I hope that this has helped you and anyone else understand just how awful this show is by itself, and just how much of a blessing it is that it’s been canceled.

now, *conversion therapists have “realized” that the word “conversion therapy” has a “negative connotation” and so they’ve basically re-branded themselves, and moved the goal posts. “conversion therapy” is now known as “SAFE-T”, meaning “Sexual Attraction Fluidity Exploration (in) Therapy”, which, in their own words:

“The [term sexual fluidity exploration] accuratelyconveys that the therapist is not being coercive but merely assisting individuals in a client-centeredexamination of their sexual attractions.” […] “[it] does not imply that categorical change is the goal […] nor does it imply that change which is less thancategorical in nature cannot be meaningful and satisfying to clients” […] “Scientifically, the fluidity of sexual orientation (and, for our purposes, especially same-sexattractions) for many women and men is now beyond question” (here misquoting quoting Lisa Diamond, even though her actual study proved the opposite, that lesbian sexuality is in fact, not fluid)

what this means, for those who may be confused, is basically, they no longer want to make a gay person straight, instead they aim to make us bi, as it’s easier to convince someone through grooming and brainwashing that they have an attraction they actually don’t, in addition to the one they actually have, rather than completely erasing one and replacing it with another.

which is exactly what the creators are obsessed with, as are tons of other content creators. there’s been an increase in straight and bi authors creating stories that specifically revolve around a lesbian learning of her “sexual fluidity” and finding a man she just can’t resist, while the authors insist that it can’t be conversion therapy because they made the lesbian go from gay to bi/gay with an exception instead of gay to straight.

so yea, when I say this series is wildly homophobic on a level deeper than most people realize, I really, really mean it.

#ask #toximancer #sens8 #tw: conversion therapy #not pokemon

[lesbitchka]

(submission)

alright so i’m gonna dump my long long club story in here (cw for q slur stuff, some mentions of prior abuse, kink, drag) this is gonna be really long, i’m sorry! my way of narration is kind of obnoxious

i’m a copresident of my campus’ lgbt group after i was asked by someone in my class to run for office during my first semester at my current college. i’d never been to a meeting before, but i accepted, honored to have been invited. in retrospect, that kind of should have been my first red flag- being asked to step in in an administrative role to a club i had absolutely no familiarity with. i’m a white, autistic trans man who is on the aro/ace spec because of my history of trauma. this will be important later on 

i showed up to the election and was elected handily, because apparently the person i was running against has a history of being abusive? i don’t know anything about that. anyway, at the same meeting, the person who had held my position before me, a nonbinary trans woman, was ousted publically and stormed out of the room, furious. at the time, i wasn’t too bothered by it. this person had a history of posting weird, intimidating right-leaning stuff about “defending someone’s right to free speech all the way up until they act on it”- that includes threats to murder and rape people, in her own words- and mocking club members for mental health problems. all around, a legitimately abusive person that i totally understood why she’d be removed. and over the summer, that was that- no further discussion. 

i moved across the country to the la area to live with my longterm partner over the summer. during that time, we lived in a disadvantaged area that was primarily latinx, close to anaheim, where over the course of the summer we heard a lot of police violence come out of, both on the news and in word-of-mouth from our (primarily trans) friend group. despite being white, this left me worried about police violence towards me for other reasons; ie, i was an unmedicated trans man in a relationship with another unmedicated trans man, subject to different types of police violence should anything happen to our home, which we were sharing with a latinx family. while nothing became of these fears, this, also, will be important 

when i got back on campus, i took up my new position and started getting involved in club affairs. i noticed from a very early point there were some small issues, but nothing that was really a dealbreaker- the club had a strong focus on kink and many board members had a tendency to be very public about their sex lives in advertisements and tabling opportunities for our group, which, while i assumed i was being oversensitive about because of my trauma, i noticed offput several prospective members who investigated our table. when campus police swept through the club fair, equipped and in full uniform, i expressed my discomfort- a holdover from my time in a troubled area, hearing about my white trans male friend face obstruction and hostility when turning to the police in a domestic violence case, having been home for less than a week- and was met by the only nonwhite member of our board explaining that he didn’t feel uncomfortable with the police there, so it was kind of ridiculous that i did and i shouldn’t. which may have been true, but jesus, felt pretty shitty to hear my feelings on the thing were bad. i also requested that we not refer to ourselves as the q*eer club when hosting events and referring to my membership and was told by the same administrator that because he is latinx and likes the word, no one else should have any reason to take issue with it, b/c he was most strongly effected by pulse…? that was his reasoning for why we should keep using the q slur. again, a bunch of small things i could easily brush off, but things that stuck out 

things didn’t get really bad until this semester. over winter break, two things happened. the aforementioned nonwhite board member we had was hired by the school and is no longer legally allowed to be involved in any club’s board. also, i started dating a member of our club, a nonbinary transfeminine person (gonna call them bug for this post) who’s two years younger than me and getting their feet in school. i was feeling really awful after a week-long hospitalization early in the semester and having my longterm partner across the country; they were facing academic difficulties and poverty that will probably keep them from returning next semester, so it arose from mutual need and desire to support one another, with mutualistic understanding of the fact that our relationship is probably on a timeline. bug came into our school hoping to get involved in lgbt activism, so when we had elections after winter break, i encouraged them to try out. 

it’s also worth mentioning that bug was and is one of only three transfeminine club members who would regularly show up to meetings. the other two, who i’ll call mercury and simone, are both older than me; mercury was part of the board before i joined, and simone joined at the same time as bug, due to our awareness of our club’s appearance due to having something like 30 regular attendees and only three transfeminine ones; even now, simone is the only one who identifies as a trans woman, not nonbinary.my roommate, who i’ll call marcie, also joined at this time, becoming our only nonwhite board member. 

so, convergence of events: bug and i start dating, and bug, simone, and marcie all join this club. things are great at first! everyone loves each other, we’re all excited to be working with our friends. i’m overjoyed to have my roommate, one of my best friends, and my brand new datemate working with me on something i’m really passionate about. 

when we try to put together our first event of the semester, though, things go HELLA south. the new director of the board, the boyfriend of the guy i had a couple issues with at the beginning of the year, asks the board what kind of shirts we want for our event: tanks or tees. bug speaks up first, saying that they don’t want a tank because tanks show their shoulders too much and make them feel dysphoric. simone and mercury echo bug’s sentiments; i, knowing that our membership has had some issues with our lack of inclusion for transfemmes, decide to go with the transfemme voices on our board. this becomes the biggest controversy we’ve yet faced as a board. the director becomes enraged, talking about how tanks make him LESS dysphoric, how for our last event he got baseball shirts that make him dysphoric and that he hates (and that he also wears almost every time i see him, hm) so we should make a concession for him to get a shirt he likes. he tells us to vote; me, bug, simone, and mercury all vote for tanks, which means that we have the majority on our seven person board. the situation is now wholly out of control, the director gets angrier and says we’re getting tees anyway, marcie says something off hand about how it’s not a dysphoria contest, which makes bug feel like shit because they brought up the topic of their dysphoria first as a reason they personally wouldn’t wear the shirt if we bought it and then was countered by our director’s claims of how dysphoric tees would make him. simone says that this invalidation of her and bug’s lived experiences and the hostility they were met with for asking for a shirt with transfemmes in mind is transmisogynistic behaviour. remember that guy who got hired by the school? he steps in now to defend his boyfriend and shuts down the conversation (yeah, he’s still in our group chat, despite that being, y'know, illegal.) everyone is furious. more than a few people are brought to tears. 

pretty fucking dumb, right? over shirts. don’t worry, though, we’re heading into some even more ridiculous shit. 

the next time the board talks, it’s to say that we’re obviously all very upset with each other and we shouldn’t meet in an unmediated environment. (spoiler alert: what has come to be known as shirtgate was at the beginning of february and we JUST had a group meeting for the first time ever since that this sunday…) we hold our event successfully despite the fact that half the board isn’t talking to each other. i’m feeling hurt and isolated from my friends and withdraw a bit, spending more time with bug. the board is divided into two tiers: the wider board, and the presidents’ board, which i’m on, and which, coincidentally, is basically just our regular board without transfemmes. ha. the presidents’ board meets and discusses how unacceptable the situation is, attempting to appeal to me to change “sides” because those rowdy transfemmes, right? i’m grossed out and feeling like i’ve been isolated from the group of people i have a vested interest in supporting and stand my ground, officially marking myself as no longer one of the InGroupTM. for the most part, i do nothing as a club administrator from here on out. things are magically out of my hands. hm 

our next big controversy happens when we hold a screening for moonlight, about a week after it won best picture. this is a public event, and many people who are not in our club show up; i assume that all we are providing is advertisement and prepare to enjoy the movie. here’s where me being autistic comes in. the lounge is crowded with people and i’m surrounded by some of my favourite people, including bug, who’s off their adhd meds for now and doesn’t have a lot of impulse control. my friends respond audibly to some of the scenes, cos we’re a bunch of gay kids who’ve rarely-if-ever seen representation for ourselves before. due to being in a social setting where the people around me that i trust, esp bug, are being very emotional and responsive to the film, i can’t really not join in and make noises of excitement too- it’s just the way my aspie brain works, tbh. i feel awesome! this is great! 

it’s not great. the event ends and people are furious, complaining about how the movie was ruined by the talking during a handful of scenes. the board cracks down on me and bug (and, to a lesser extent, simone) for being vocally excited. in retrospect, fair, and definitely something that means i should stay away from crowds more often. however, this was an environment of friends, i thought, not people who’d get really upset with me for unintentionally making sounds of excitement when, for the second time ever, i see gay men represented in the context of a film. marcie is furious most of all, as our only non-white board member, and goes on a facebook rant, vagueing about not just bug, simone, and i, but about our friends and members who were not quiet either. me and bug’s close friend, who i’ll call mirage, is incredibly hurt by this, as marcie uses their non-whiteness to describe why they’re frustrated by this behaviour; mirage is a nonwhite nb kid who was most vocal during a scene in the movie where the protagonist hits a bully with a chair, making an audible joke about it, which they did because they found the scene triggering after they were hit with a chair by a teacher growing up. this was also the moment of conversation marcie had the biggest issue with. bug and i are feeling pretty shitty about our neurodivergences and how the club has previously made promises to be understanding of symptoms, but this seems to only extend to depression and anxiety. the club fractures further. 

we’re basically not talking to each other unless we have to at this point, with bug, simone, and i staying close, marcie, the director, his boyfriend, and their housemate making their own group, and mercury disengaging from all of us entirely. we hold an event. it’s called kink 102 and is the sequel to an event we had in first semester that i missed during my hospitalization, where apparently the director and his boyfriend demonstrated floggers and crops on each other in front of an audience who came to learn about kink, not expecting to be part of a scene. people are very apprehensive about this, especially because we have had several meetings focusing on kink and drag- our director’s passions- and none focusing on, for example, nonbinary people and aroace-spec people in the lgbt community. this becomes a huge point of contention, as several ace-spec people approach various board members and express their discomfort with how overwhelmingly sexual many of our meetings are and how our director seems so keen to involve strangers in his sex life- he has admitted rather freely to being both an exhibitionist and a voyeur. a student makes a public post about how we’ve had two meetings about kink and none about aroace lgbt people. bug steps in and comments a bit snarkily about how much they agree, having heard me, their ace-spec boyfriend, talk a lot about how i’ve been honestly triggered by some of our events; bug is very much not an ace person and is in fact an exhibitionist and voyeur themself, but thinks the issue is this important. i step in as well as a board member, feeling the need to address a public complaint, and reassure them that i would very much like to spearhead a meeting about aroace people, including the different ways it can manifest and how it isn’t equivalent to non-heterosexuality, as the only ace-spec board member. i admit to my discomfort at the environment we often create and say that it’s something we certainly need to work on. 

shit pops off in the chat, but only at bug! not at me! hmmmm!!!! 

bug stops talking in the group chat unless prompted at this point. 

the post goes mostly unresolved; all that happens is bug (and, later, simone, who posted a rather snide comment on the same forum expressing her frustrations with the group as a whole, both backing up me and bug, and as a trans woman who’s been repeatedly involved in drag events now) get CHEWED THE FUCK OUT. simone says something about how we have way too much focus on kink and it makes it seem like we’re saying it’s equivalent to being lgbt. the director loses his shit over this, and says, quote, “Thanks for invalidating my identity. I can’t discuss this further. Erasure of my culture.” which is… a lot, as someone who was abused in the guise of kink by older, paedophilic partners. 

i go to the kink meeting with bug because i want to learn how to tie them up safely and am hoping to learn about knots, but mostly because i feel like if i don’t go, i’ll get yelled at. there is no guide for tying knots. there is a brief discussion of consent, then the director ends up topless, getting whipped against the wall of the student lounge. a friend of mine sits next to me and sucks a fucking pacifier the whole time

we still haven’t met in person in months. this sunday, we finally meet. the director reveals he is resigning and also dropping out of college and tells us it’s mostly because of simone, which, wow, okay, is a lot to hear from someone who i spent hours counceling about whether or not he should go to the inpatient i went to and take a semester off first semester, before simone was ever even involved. the meeting is mostly just that. simone doesn’t come. we have a president’s meeting after, which basically equates to us staring awkwardly at bug until they leave and mercury retreating to their room, cos we hold this at the director and his boyfriend’s house. not weird and awkward, definitely doesn’t feel like we’re having a boys’ club meeting. nope. 

by this point i am distraught. i’m feeling like complete shit because all these people, despite their previous rounds of drama and weird comments, were my friends. i was so excited to work on something i cared about with people i cared about, and now no one even talks to each other. i confess my concerns about everything to the group, and shit gets wild. the director is quick to tell me that things aren’t my fault, but that his issue is with simone and bug. and then he starts getting really shitty. i had previously mentioned how eager i was to protect the incoming freshmen, because my first year of college, i was raped by a trans woman who proceeded to manipulate her way through the lgbt club on that campus to turn people against me and keep me from speaking out, which resulted in my utter academic failure and dropping out. the director begins to tell me that, in my personal goal of keeping freshmen safe, i have made bug entirely dependent on me, that the fact that they don’t talk to half the board anymore is on me, using words and phrases i used to describe my previous abuse to say that, hey, turns out you’re abusive. which… is fuckt, coming from the person who capslocks curse words in the group chat and then has his SCHOOL STAFF boyfriend come in to tell us how justified he is. the boyfriend tells me i never should have expected us to be friends. which i guess is true, but hey, i was introduced to the group by their roommate way back last year, and really didn’t know what to expect at all. i am also told that kink is easily as important as lgbt activism in our history, that it should be considered a part of the acronym, that all these young kids uncomfortable with two three-and-five-year-older people acting out scenes under our banner at our events need to learn their history. any second now i’m expecting our name, LGBTQU+, to grow a k. hilarious that they’re concerned about history now, but me asking us not to use the q slur to describe our members is ridiculous because no one’s bothered by it anymore! 

i meekly offer to step down, but the director says that because he’s leaving and his roommate is graduating, we won’t have a board anymore if i step down, considering bug and simone are ready to leave. the boyfriend and the director lecture me for like five solid minutes about how this is the oldest club on campus and if i don’t stay, it will collapse and that will be on me, basically. so yeah. accusing me of perpetrating the same abuse my ex perpetrated against me, then guilting me into staying to keep our club active- a club that is now reputed for being more focused on kink than lgbt events, for not being welcoming to nonwhite people or trans women (forgot to mention at one point students formed a qpoc group separate from us and the boyfriend was FURIOUS and tried to overtake it, using us, the board that was entirely white except for him :) ), and for being the biggest cesspit of drama on campus. in other words, a club i would very much like to l e a v e. 

i know this wasn’t entirely mogai hell or ace discourse, but there’s shades of every kind of shit in this group, tbh. and i really just needed a place to vent about it. i know we all made mistakes, but jesus, i’m hemorrhaging friends and feeling like dirt, my pals. i just need space to whine. 

oh one more thing, forgot to mention: the director tried to use bug to tell me to get a fetlife, because bug has one, because they’re not ace. also had bug ask me to pose with them naked for one of our event posters to circumvent me talking about how i felt unconfident naked, which thankfully never happened. also seem to think that because bug and i have sex i’m not ace anymore, therefore we shouldn’t talk about ace stuff because we don’t have an ace board member? didn’t know where to put these ones, but yeah! ;) 

ok! sorry for the length of this. thank you for listening! <3 

#this is wild from start tofinish #rape / #submission #club stories

[fashiontrendin-blog]

Meet ‘them’: Conde Nast’s First Queer Publication

http://fashion-trendin.com/meet-them-conde-nasts-first-queer-publication/

Meet ‘them’: Conde Nast’s First Queer Publication

In June 2017, award-winning trans journalist Meredith Talusan received a direct message on Instagram from Phillip Picardi. The digital editorial director of Teen Vogue and Allure was in the process of building an intersectional staff for what would eventually become them, Conde Nast’s newest online publication that focuses on queer youth. He was looking for an editor; their mutual friend Janet Mock had recommended Talusan.

At the time, however, she was working on a book. She considered herself a writer first and foremost and wasn’t prepared to take on an editorial role.

“There are so few trans editors,” Talusan tells me over the phone. “Of those who are, many of the established ones don’t edit or work on trans issues. I have to do all of this cultural translation and justification in order to get pitches approved,” she says. “It requires a lot of logistical and emotional labor to get someone who is not up to speed about the issues you’re dealing with… Part of the reason I waffled was because I was intimidated to yet again be the only trans person on an editorial staff.”

A few months later, Picardi reached out to Talusan to ask for recommendations to fill the same editorial role — only this time, Talusan had changed her mind. She was interested. They had a call that led to a job offer followed by an in-person meeting. As she reviewed the offer, Picardi hired them Associate Editor Tyler Ford, a friend and writer she admires, who also happens to be trans. When Talusan realized she wouldn’t be the only person on staff to speak to trans issues, she signed on as them’s full-time senior editor.

Them was born from an idea Picardi had been dreaming about for a while: launching a queer publication that speaks to those who don’t look at sexuality and gender in binary terms, like so many of the young queer people he met through Teen Vogue. “I wanted to identify this space and create one that was more welcoming, inclusive and representative of this new queer movement happening.”

His dream became reality when Condé Nast’s artistic director Anna Wintour asked him at a luncheon, more or less, “If you could do anything you wanted, what would you do?” He explained his vision. A few days later, his phone rang. She gave him the green light to begin a proposal, which involved months of work and pitching to Conde Nast’s entire C-suite. In October 2017, along with Talusan, Ford, and a diverse collection of freelance contributors, them officially launched.

Picardi believes the most important decision he’s made in staffing up them is handing over the microphone: “It’s not about me. Gay men take up a lot of space in our community and dominate the space queer and trans people get in terms of representation.” He tells me that after eight years in media, there’s not just one person responsible for the magic a brand makes. “To make beautiful, magical, shareable content — to make the world a better place and make visibility and representation a priority — it takes a whole team.”

The team’s goal is twofold, he says: The first part is to create content for and by the queer community and to be a representative of all parts of the community “in the best way we can.” The second is to prove, by being a queer brand within a traditional magazine publishing house like Condé Nast, that you can “queer” mainstream. “That’s ‘queer’ as a verb,” he tells me. “At them, we want to educate people about who we are and why we exist.”

In the name of handing over microphones, I pass mine to the full-time and contributing staff of them.

I asked each person to write a one-line personal bio, one line that explains what they “do” professionally, and then, in 300 words or less, to tell me their story.

Meredith Talusan, “Old enough to write a memoir,” senior editor, them

I am a lot sillier than I look. I’m unable to keep my mouth shut and so, as a result, am the senior editor of them.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

I am a first-generation Filipino, albino, immigrant, nonbinary, trans person who is a successful journalist and editor and is a little bit too educated, with multiple advanced degrees — more than one degree from Ivy League schools — and I’m out to show that coming from a marginalized background and being successful in media don’t have to be mutually exclusive. A lot of people view “external success” as belonging; I want to express we all hold multitudes, and that one can simultaneously hold a disadvantaged background along certain lines and at the same time achieve a measure of success and have privilege and advantages. America tends to be set up such that we view people as either one or the other.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

My advice to teenagers: Wear your hair the way you want to and think about the consequences later.

What do you hope readers will take away from them?

I hope that readers will find both joy and activism and understand that those two things can be one and the same.

You can follow Meredith on Instagram here or Twitter here.

Phillip Picardi, 26, chief content officer, them

I think that Burlesque starring Christina Aguilera and Cher is a criminally underrated film. I started an idea, which became them, and now sometimes help other people as they make it better and more inclusive.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

When I started at Teen Vogue, I wore bronzer and had a blowout. Things got better, and now I have them.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

Young people: Whatever they mock you for now is exactly what you should be doing with the rest of your life.

You can follow Phillip on Instagram here and Twitter here.

Tyler Ford, 27, associate editor, them

I am a compassionate, bold, sensitive, punctilious person who loves to learn. I am a gender writer, speaker and advocate, and I am the associate editor at them.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

I love being queer and trans and black. I try to communicate how happy I am to be who I am as often as possible, because people expect me to be sad about it. I’m not sad about who I am — I’m sad and angry at the violence that queer and trans people of color experience on a daily basis just for existing. So, let me say it again: There is so much joy in being queer and trans and black. We all deserve to celebrate who we are.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

My advice to everyone: Take care of each other and take care of yourself.

What do you hope readers will take away from them?

I hope that them will inspire a sense of recognition, affirmation, connection and community in our readers.

You can follow Tyler on Instagram here, Twitter here or check out his website here.

Michael Cuby, 23, them contributor

An L.A.-born New York transplant, I am a writer and editor. I’m the community manager/social director at them.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

I was born in Los Angeles and moved to New York five years ago to start studying sociology at Columbia University. While I was in school, I wrote for VICE, Teen Vogue, Flavorwire and MEL Magazine. Prior to joining the them team, I worked as a digital editor at PAPER Magazine, where I took the lead on most of the site’s fashion coverage. I’ve also always been pretty active on (or, addicted to) social media, so it was exciting to start my new position at them. I feel totally fulfilled in a way I hadn’t before because I can merge my passion for writing with my addiction to social media. Plus, I get to stick my hand in so many other things.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

My advice to my younger self is to not give up on the pursuit of what you really want to do with your life. Growing up, I was really into reading men’s lifestyle magazines and thought I would pursue that as a career. But after coming into my own as a queer person in college, I found myself gradually canceling my subscriptions because I felt alienated by their often very narrow definitions of manhood. I couldn’t see where I fit in that world.

When I could finally start believably calling myself a “writer” at other publications, I ran into another wall: I always wanted to write about specific topics like queerness, Blackness, etc. but feared pigeonholing myself. With so few avenues for queer people to place their queerness (or any other marginalized identity) at the center of their work, it was intimidating to me to risk becoming that person who “only writes about insert topic here.” But now, with a platform like them, I see that it wasn’t a “risk” at all. It’s so inspiring to the little boy who once found himself fearing that there wouldn’t be a place for him in the Wild World of Media.

What do you hope readers will take away from them?

One of the central tenets of them is to provide a voice for those who may not otherwise have the opportunity to tell their story and be heard in mainstream media. Obviously, as an LGBTQ+ publication, we’re already doing that semi-automatically by focusing on the queer community — but we also want to be sure that our selection of LGBTQ+ stories are diverse in and of themselves. That means letting queer and trans people of color have a voice, queer and trans people with disabilities have a voice, etc. I think all of these perspectives have sometimes been either completely ignored or strategically overshadowed in other queer publications. It is my hope that people who read our site feel something from these important stories, and that these stories ultimately will help change their worldviews for the better. In my opinion, the more people who know about others who are different than them, the more possibilities there are for two-way passages of compassion and empathy. And as for the non-readers? Well, I want them to start reading!

You can follow Michael on Instagram here and Twitter here.

Chella Man, 18, them contributor

I am a deaf, queer, nonbinary artist based in New York City currently transitioning on testosterone. I contribute project ideas and pitches to them that deal with topics ranging from being deaf to being queer.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

When I was three years old, I was in the car with my mom, driving down the highway. From my car seat, I called out, “Mom, I want to be a boy!” My mom was astonished and answered: “Well, girls can do anything boys can do, so why?” I responded: “They can’t run around with their shirts off, and they have a penis!” I was three years old, and I knew who I was.

After skipping my senior year of high school in central Pennsylvania and coming to New York City for college, my identity became more clear. The cultural shift was drastic to me; the city felt much more accepting.

I have now been on testosterone for almost five months, identify as a genderqueer individual, and am “patiently” waiting to have top surgery in January 2018. I can honestly say that I have never been happier.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

My advice to anyone out there struggling with depression this winter:

I’ve found working out in the morning to truly help my dysphoria/depression the rest of the day. It’s a muffler. If any of you are struggling mentally, try moving around a bit in the morning! I know this can be the hardest thing, but start small and work up to it, whether that’s a run or lifting. It helps me immensely. The morning sunrise views aren’t that bad, either.

What do you hope readers will take away from them?

I hope readers will be able to see a bit of themselves in this platform. I hope they will be able to figure out who they are a bit better than I did. I did not have this kind of media representation.

Anything else you want to add?

I am proud to be a part of them. The future is brighter with this queer platform.

You can follow Chella on Instagram here and here.

Myles Loftin, 19, them contributor

I’m just a black boy trying to express myself and understand the world. I’m a freelance photographer (for them and others) and a sophomore at Parsons School of Design.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

I grew up in southern Maryland with two parents who have always been extremely supportive of my artistic talents and aspirations as an artist. I’ve been interested in art since I can remember, and from a young age I knew that I wanted to pursue art as a career. While other kids wanted to be doctors and policemen when they grew up, I just wanted to make art and make a living off of that. When I was about 15 or 16 years old, I picked up a camera and never really turned back. I had found my element. Photography is my way of understanding and reinterpreting myself and the world around me. Art is a practice of freedom and liberation for me. I want other minority artists to be able to experience that, and to be able to feel like they have a place in the art world where they can be as talented and as successful as cis, straight, white artists. I want my existence and my success as an “other” to inspire queer kids of color who want to share their voice.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

My advice to marginalized artists trying to make it would be to always keep working, keep building off of what you’ve already created, and never compare your rate of success to someone else’s. Everyone gets to where they’re going at their own pace, and if you stay true to what you’re doing, you’ll make it happen.

What do you hope readers will take away from them?

I hope that readers and non-readers will appreciate, understand and potentially connect with the nuanced representations of LGBTQIAGNC+ culture.

You can follow Miles on Instagram here and Twitter here.

Quil Lemons, 20, them contributor

I’m a 20-year-old art student, photographer, writer, part-time lemon and full-time friend. I am just a person who tells it like it is; that ideology is reflected in the art I create for them and for myself.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

I am an artist. Personally, I am still figuring out my story, as many millennials are. If you are a fan/supporter of what I have to offer, may it be my photography, writing or social media presence, you will see that this “story” is still being written. I am a 20-year-old black boy from Philadelphia and I am finally feeling grounded in who I am (as a person and creator) and what that means in the spaces that I occupy.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

My advice to queer youth: I feel we’re in an interesting time in society where the norms are being rewritten, which has given a lot of space to define what is acceptable. You no longer have to feel afraid to be who you are. You do not have to hide your interests or who you want to be. We are in a time in which we have more freedoms than ever before. We have the ability to continue to keep changing the views of those who do not agree with “our lifestyle.” But, most importantly, I hope anyone who’s young and queer does not feel alone, different or weird. Being queer and being “one of them” is wonderful!

What do you hope readers will take away from them?

I hope readers take away new perspectives, feel at home and that they are rightfully represented. I hope that them is a platform that truly depicts where the LGBTQ community is in 2017 and where we are going. I hope the readers of them can connect with the art I put out through this platform and it resonates. I hope anything I create can help someone feel at peace.

I hope non-readers can appreciate the art we make and feel inspired or can see our perspective and gain insight on what it actually means to be queer.

You can follow Quil on Instagram here and Twitter here.

Wesley Johnson, 25, them contributor

Just trying to maintain a social life, support my local businesses, drink enough water and pay off my student loans. I make sure everything looks good and on-brand at them. It’s a really dynamic role because one day I might commission illustrators for a story, and the next I might be on set for a fashion shoot. I’m really fortunate that I can trust my eye, and that’s one thing I’m really confident about.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

I moved to New York to study graphic design at Parsons. I’ve been artistic all my life, but I was unsure of what I wanted to do or how I wanted to apply my talent. I knew I loved things like fashion magazines, packaging, music videos, window displays, anything visual. I settled on graphic design because I thought it’d be the best way to funnel all of my interests into one field (and maybe make some money).

Even if Parsons wasn’t the best choice for me, New York totally was. Being a closeted gay kid growing up in the suburbs, New York was a complete awakening for me. Being surrounded by so many gay people was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I haven’t traveled much, but I can’t picture living in any other city. There are so many lives you could lead here, and the possibilities are endless. There are layers to life that we don’t even see, and your environment can totally shift by just walking a few blocks. I had one of the best years of my life exploring everything around the city too, like Fire Island, Storm King, the Glass House.

In my down time, I love walking around my neighborhood and looking at houses, going to the farmers’ market, shopping for my apartment, going to galleries and museums. I try to stay visually stimulated to keep myself inspired. I also love being inside and sitting.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

I think young people should know that there’s no threshold into adulthood; you’re always evolving. Even now, it’s hard to say 100% what I want to “be” when I grow up. Of course I dream of renovating a Brooklyn brownstone with my dream man, but coming to terms with the fact that that might never happen is hard. As a Pisces, I’ve always been a dreamer, so realizing that not everything can come true is hard. I would also say to not get bent out of shape over not going to school with everyone else. Take your time to really discover yourself if you’re not there yet. Looking back, I wish I’d taken some time off to travel. Seriously, if you’re fortunate enough to be living on your parents’ dime, take advantage of it for as long as you can! I’m learning that changing course later in life, even as early in my career as I am, is difficult. It may take a while to find out what your true interests are. Just roll with it and keep your mind open.

You may surprise yourself.

What do you hope readers will take away from them?

I think people should know that queer people are so limitless. Our creativity really knows no bounds. Continually being pushed to the periphery of society has made us really adaptive, and forced us to make ourselves seen in different ways. Also, because we’re not the norm, we don’t really have norms. I think that allows our minds to stay open. I’m so proud to be a part of this group, and I think the future is really in our hands.

You can follow Wesley on Instagram here.

James Clarizio, 26, Visuals Editor, them

I’m a disproportionate gasper-meets-diplomatic-menu-orderer-meets-above-average-parallel-parker. I manage everything that goes into making pictures at them – except taking them.

What’s your “story”? What do you need the world to know about you?

I’ve had an affinity for images for as long as I can remember, from aged photographs of my parents honeymooning to Bruce Weber’s catalogs for Abercrombie & Fitch I’d steal from my older sisters. I’ve also had a knack for pleasing people and avoiding conflict – which, as a closeted teenager in suburban New Jersey – only further-developed my status as an observer before participator. Taking this into consideration, I really enjoy and have developed an instinctual need to look at pictures, people, relationships and stories.

My interest in looking brought me to New York University to study photography, where I was pleased to be among a small group of people who enjoyed talking about images as much as I did. New York is a special place for anyone with a keen interest in anything, especially those who require an ever-changing bank of people and experiences to digest. Apologies if I’ve stared at you on the J train.

I’m humbled and elated by the work I get to create every day, and even more so by the people that I get to share the process with. Creating content that a younger version of myself would have loved and coveted keeps me going, but not as much as knowing there are people seeing these pictures and reading these stories today.

What do you hope readers will take away from them?

I hope readers leave with both a sense of kinship in seeing their story told, as well as an enthusiasm for stories that don’t necessarily align with their own. There’s a camaraderie in queerness that we are celebrating, and the party is only growing.

What’s your advice to ____? Fill in that blank, and then fill in your advice.

My advice to people who need to wake up early in the morning is to drink a lot of water right before bed. Like, more than you think. Once your alarm sounds, you’ll need to use the restroom too urgently to stay put. Many of the best things in life require skipping the snooze button.

Also, making a conscious effort to be present and pleasant will get you halfway there.

You can follow James on Instagram here.

Photos provided by them staff and contributors. Myles Loftin’s photo by Jason Rodgers. Tyler Ford’s photo by Jody Rogac for TIME. 

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EXCLUSIVE: Jill Soloway on Patriarchy, Privilege and Flipping the Male Gaze

In 2014, Jill Soloway burst onto the digital TV landscape with Transparent on Amazon and quickly became an Emmy darling for its portrayal of a complicated Pfferman clan in transition. Now Soloway, who identifies as gender nonbinary and uses the pronoun “they,” is serving up a second helping of their particular brand of art house matriarchy in the messy, cerebral, hilarious series I Love Dick.

Based on the 1997 book of the same name by Chris Kraus, the story follows a married couple, Sylvere and Chris (played by Griffin Dune and Kathryn Hahn), as they move to Marfa, Texas, where the husband attends an art institute run by a cowboy named Dick. On its face, the show is about Chris falling in love with the idea of Dick (Kevin Bacon) and using that stolen sexual excitement to reinvigorate her marriage and artistic direction, swapping filmmaking for the performance art of writing lusty love letters to Dick, which she pastes all over town. In reality, I Love Dick depicts Dick himself as a muse and explores how that designation unravels him and sends him and the rest of the characters down a rabbit hole of feminism, the male gaze, sexuality and gender norms.

Unsurprisingly, the show was able to plumb those depths courtesy of an all-female writers’ room. “It’s about wanting to keep pure that rage [of growing up other] and not feel like it had to be softened to keep the peace of the room,” Soloway says of the show’s writing staff.

MORE: Kathryn Hahn on Her Most Important Working Relationship

Soloway was born and raised in Chicago and got their start on shows like The Steve Harvey Show, United States of Tara and Six Feet Under. At home, they say they were “lucky enough” to have one parent come out as transgender. That experience became the basis for their understanding of that community, the foundation for Transparent and the inspiration for their own nonbinary identification. Soloway says they spent years as a femme lesbian but eventually identified as butch; however, the weight of that box’s trappings was crushing. Now, they’ve carved out a new path as nonbinary.

“For me, I still have all the rage [of growing up other], but identifying as nonbinary really calms me because I don’t have to go, ‘This is my lot as a woman. F**k, this is what’s expected of me,’” Soloway explains while stressing that they’re not abandoning women.

If I Love Dick, another Emmy frontrunner, is any indication of Soloway’s feminist dedication and furthering their goal of toppling the patriarchy (also referenced in the name of their production company, Topple Productions), the plan is working. On the heels of the release of their newest Amazon hit, Soloway spoke to ET about flipping the male gaze, female empowerment and that pesky patriarchy.

EMMYS 2017: The Standout Performances of the Season

ET: At first, I Love Dick seems to be about unrequited love. Then I realized it’s about turning the male gaze on its ear, and how most men can’t handle that constant attention. It’s also about the male act of looking at women together, whether it’s in porn or just in the everyday.

Jill Soloway: In the pilot, when they’re at dinner and Dick and Sylvere are looking at Chris together and ask each other whether or not she’s a good filmmaker, this is the moment where Sylvere leaves her and joins Dick in this corroboration of male gaze. It is the inciting incident of the whole series, where she’s like, “I will not be the object of the male gaze. I am going to try to find my own way of seeing the world.” The truth is women are used as the conduit for men to be able to enjoy sexuality together.

How has your own identity played out in your work?

One of the things that’s been so enlightening has been moving from femme to butch. When I was more femme, it was my job to hold the beauty. Now that I’m butch and am dating more femme women, I’ve noticed that both men and other butch women want to see a picture of [the woman I’m dating]. They want us to talk about her together because images of hot girls are conduits for men to get together and talk about their desires and their worship of beauty. That’s one of the hardest things about the male gaze as you try to understand it, the ways you’re asked to participate without your consent.

I love when Sylvere asks Dick, “You don’t like being the muse?” and Dick replies, “It’s humiliating.” It reminded me of my high school dream to have a video where I’m fully clothed, wearing a turtleneck and fur coat, surrounded by nearly nude men -- as a reaction to music videos featuring nearly nude women dancing around fully clothed men.

You could see that male gaze back then; you could watch and feel that.

Do you think women can objectify themselves for monetary purposes instead of the male gaze?

If you monetize it, you own it -- and that could be anyone from a stripper to a Kardashian. These are people who are incredibly empowered, who recognize their body is a tool for empowerment. My problem is that empowerment comes one degree away from the male gaze, because you’re trying to get a man to do something by engaging their gaze. For me, the dream of being in the center of the video in the turtleneck is that you aren’t actually being looked at, you’re doing the looking. The fantasy for women, for me, is to be invisible and have my work investigated.

I can’t outrun the problem of people talking about my looks, but I do suffer from having spent years working on how I look as a way to feel powerful. Now I feel this tragic sense of “Oh, my God, I missed so many years of having a full mind.” I could’ve been becoming smarter and creating.

In I Love Dick, the women are speaking from positions of power, regardless of how they identify, their jobs or how much clothing they’re wearing. Did that come from the years you wasted on beauty, like, “Let me allow these women to be their full selves?”

Power is the word of the moment for me. It’s shorter than intersectionality or solidarity, and both words create questions about who stands for whom. We all want power; women want it, people of color want it, queer people want it, gender nonconforming people want it. We all want the power that comes with being the default subject, that’s why we’re full of rage. No man will ever understand what it feels like to grow up other, no white person will ever understand growing up as a person of color. There’s so much rage over not only wanting to be recognized as we are, but also who we would be had we been the original subject, and not been born into this other.

You hired an all-female writers’ room. What was the purpose of that, aside from creating an authentic female experience?

You’re always silently clocking your allies in whatever room you’re in, and the idea of what is “good story” or whether a story is “working” is the kind of thing that people who’ve had more time in the business might say. Like, “Alright, it’s all well and good that we’re just having fun here, but as a person with experience/the guy -- and I’m not criticizing what’s going on -- I just want to make sure you guys are getting this right.” In doing so, cisgender men might be unconsciously advocating for what makes them feel comfortable, and that would be versions of the male gaze. That could damage a blossoming possibility when you have a group of people in a room together who’ve never had the opportunity to do that before. It’s exactly the same thing with people of color. I’m sure if Donald Glover had an all-black writers’ room…

He did for Atlanta; I was just going to say the same thing.

What if someone would’ve said to him, “You need to have just one white person in there. It’s their job to rein you in because you’re going be too black!” Or, for a women’s writers’ room, there was a guy in there like, “Too much period blood!” You don’t even want that physics, so that choice was to create a room without the male gaze.

I think that space made deeper women-centered scenes possible. Like when the lesbian character, Devon, calls out the woman she’s dating, Toby, while the latter is completely naked for a performance piece that Devon thinks is exploitive. It was a rabbit hole of white feminism versus brown feminism, art for art’s sake versus creating something purposeful and a conversation between lovers.

Thank you for seeing that! I think women viewers do go down a rabbit hole with our show. One woman’s empowerment is another people’s disempowerment, and how does that get talked about in a story between two people who are falling in or out of love? So much fun for a feminist intellectual to think about!

Circling back to the man as muse, what kind of direction did you give Kevin Bacon in playing Dick?

I don’t really get too micro when it comes to a scene, I’m more creating a space for everybody to let loose. I’ll talk to Kevin about a larger emotion he’s playing and he takes care of the pain and sorrow. I do think that who Kevin Bacon is, the six degrees of separation, means something. In looking for real connections, he probably felt a little about Hollywood the way Dick feels about Marfa.

How does being nonbinary affect your work and topple the patriarchy, your goal and the name of your production company?

Luckily, I have the privilege to try being femme, butch or nonbinary. I don’t want to be frivolous about that.

You don’t want to be privileged about your privilege?

No, I don’t want to be privileged about my privilege, because there are so many people who would like to walk into another experience and for whatever reason, they can’t. I’ve been able to create space in my life to experiment, and my parent coming out was a big deal because it allowed me to notice, besides my age and where I am in life, “Where and how do I want to be today?” It’s a very strange thought experiment that feels like a little bit like your turtleneck: I’m not what you see. I’m not even the other thing, like, “Oh, Jill’s a guy now and she’s failing at that!” I don’t want to be failing at my butchness either! I just want to be. The nonbinary thing is great because I just step out of all of the questions of what I am.

I don’t hassle people about pronouns because I know how hard it is. But when people get my pronoun right, it’s such a lovely feeling to not say, “Women are this” or “She is this” or even “Butch is this, masculine is this.” I’m neither, I’m both, I’m constantly changing. It really removes me from my own self-talk of failure, a lot of which was gender.

So, the nonbinary identity itself is fighting the patriarchy by not subscribing to a label.

Yeah, it is all off my table.

What does toppling the patriarchy look like for you?

If Donald Trump could dream of being president, we can dream of anything. Things are happening so quickly; I couldn’t have even imagined I Love Dick five years ago, let alone that it would be on television. I have to believe that there could be a world where the shared values that are currently thought of as religious values, like God, actually become shared values like love and justice. I think most people prefer peace, but because of capitalism, colonialism, imperialism or any of the -isms, we’re where we are right now.

A toppled world means that the kind of masculine, war-mongering, dominance-obsessed men that have their hold on our planet would evolve in a positive way. To me, believing that I can change the world through culture, television, books or movies, that’s how I get out of bed. I don’t see it happening in my lifetime, but I have an 8-year-old, and this could be his future.

This interview has been edited and condensed. 

#_revsp:new_provider_with_logo_342 #_uuid:b5419843-89a2-3749-8ce8-b60c66444723 #_lmsid:a0VK0000001yfWcMAI

[helloworlddemo1122-yahoopar-blog]

EXCLUSIVE: Jill Soloway on Patriarchy, Privilege and Flipping the Male Gaze

In 2014, Jill Soloway burst onto the digital TV landscape with Transparent on Amazon and quickly became an Emmy darling for its portrayal of a complicated Pfferman clan in transition. Now Soloway, who identifies as gender nonbinary and uses the pronoun “they,” is serving up a second helping of their particular brand of art house matriarchy in the messy, cerebral, hilarious series I Love Dick.

Based on the 1997 book of the same name by Chris Kraus, the story follows a married couple, Sylvere and Chris (played by Griffin Dune and Kathryn Hahn), as they move to Marfa, Texas, where the husband attends an art institute run by a cowboy named Dick. On its face, the show is about Chris falling in love with the idea of Dick (Kevin Bacon) and using that stolen sexual excitement to reinvigorate her marriage and artistic direction, swapping filmmaking for the performance art of writing lusty love letters to Dick, which she pastes all over town. In reality, I Love Dick depicts Dick himself as a muse and explores how that designation unravels him and sends him and the rest of the characters down a rabbit hole of feminism, the male gaze, sexuality and gender norms.

Unsurprisingly, the show was able to plumb those depths courtesy of an all-female writers’ room. “It’s about wanting to keep pure that rage [of growing up other] and not feel like it had to be softened to keep the peace of the room,” Soloway says of the show’s writing staff.

MORE: Kathryn Hahn on Her Most Important Working Relationship

Soloway was born and raised in Chicago and got their start on shows like The Steve Harvey Show, United States of Tara and Six Feet Under. At home, they say they were “lucky enough” to have one parent come out as transgender. That experience became the basis for their understanding of that community, the foundation for Transparent and the inspiration for their own nonbinary identification. Soloway says they spent years as a femme lesbian but eventually identified as butch; however, the weight of that box’s trappings was crushing. Now, they’ve carved out a new path as nonbinary.

“For me, I still have all the rage [of growing up other], but identifying as nonbinary really calms me because I don’t have to go, ‘This is my lot as a woman. F**k, this is what’s expected of me,’” Soloway explains while stressing that they’re not abandoning women.

If I Love Dick, another Emmy frontrunner, is any indication of Soloway’s feminist dedication and furthering their goal of toppling the patriarchy (also referenced in the name of their production company, Topple Productions), the plan is working. On the heels of the release of their newest Amazon hit, Soloway spoke to ET about flipping the male gaze, female empowerment and that pesky patriarchy.

EMMYS 2017: The Standout Performances of the Season

ET: At first, I Love Dick seems to be about unrequited love. Then I realized it’s about turning the male gaze on its ear, and how most men can’t handle that constant attention. It’s also about the male act of looking at women together, whether it’s in porn or just in the everyday.

Jill Soloway: In the pilot, when they’re at dinner and Dick and Sylvere are looking at Chris together and ask each other whether or not she’s a good filmmaker, this is the moment where Sylvere leaves her and joins Dick in this corroboration of male gaze. It is the inciting incident of the whole series, where she’s like, “I will not be the object of the male gaze. I am going to try to find my own way of seeing the world.” The truth is women are used as the conduit for men to be able to enjoy sexuality together.

How has your own identity played out in your work?

One of the things that’s been so enlightening has been moving from femme to butch. When I was more femme, it was my job to hold the beauty. Now that I’m butch and am dating more femme women, I’ve noticed that both men and other butch women want to see a picture of [the woman I’m dating]. They want us to talk about her together because images of hot girls are conduits for men to get together and talk about their desires and their worship of beauty. That’s one of the hardest things about the male gaze as you try to understand it, the ways you’re asked to participate without your consent.

I love when Sylvere asks Dick, “You don’t like being the muse?” and Dick replies, “It’s humiliating.” It reminded me of my high school dream to have a video where I’m fully clothed, wearing a turtleneck and fur coat, surrounded by nearly nude men -- as a reaction to music videos featuring nearly nude women dancing around fully clothed men.

You could see that male gaze back then; you could watch and feel that.

Do you think women can objectify themselves for monetary purposes instead of the male gaze?

If you monetize it, you own it -- and that could be anyone from a stripper to a Kardashian. These are people who are incredibly empowered, who recognize their body is a tool for empowerment. My problem is that empowerment comes one degree away from the male gaze, because you’re trying to get a man to do something by engaging their gaze. For me, the dream of being in the center of the video in the turtleneck is that you aren’t actually being looked at, you’re doing the looking. The fantasy for women, for me, is to be invisible and have my work investigated.

I can’t outrun the problem of people talking about my looks, but I do suffer from having spent years working on how I look as a way to feel powerful. Now I feel this tragic sense of “Oh, my God, I missed so many years of having a full mind.” I could’ve been becoming smarter and creating.

In I Love Dick, the women are speaking from positions of power, regardless of how they identify, their jobs or how much clothing they’re wearing. Did that come from the years you wasted on beauty, like, “Let me allow these women to be their full selves?”

Power is the word of the moment for me. It’s shorter than intersectionality or solidarity, and both words create questions about who stands for whom. We all want power; women want it, people of color want it, queer people want it, gender nonconforming people want it. We all want the power that comes with being the default subject, that’s why we’re full of rage. No man will ever understand what it feels like to grow up other, no white person will ever understand growing up as a person of color. There’s so much rage over not only wanting to be recognized as we are, but also who we would be had we been the original subject, and not been born into this other.

You hired an all-female writers’ room. What was the purpose of that, aside from creating an authentic female experience?

You’re always silently clocking your allies in whatever room you’re in, and the idea of what is “good story” or whether a story is “working” is the kind of thing that people who’ve had more time in the business might say. Like, “Alright, it’s all well and good that we’re just having fun here, but as a person with experience/the guy -- and I’m not criticizing what’s going on -- I just want to make sure you guys are getting this right.” In doing so, cisgender men might be unconsciously advocating for what makes them feel comfortable, and that would be versions of the male gaze. That could damage a blossoming possibility when you have a group of people in a room together who’ve never had the opportunity to do that before. It’s exactly the same thing with people of color. I’m sure if Donald Glover had an all-black writers’ room…

He did for Atlanta; I was just going to say the same thing.

What if someone would’ve said to him, “You need to have just one white person in there. It’s their job to rein you in because you’re going be too black!” Or, for a women’s writers’ room, there was a guy in there like, “Too much period blood!” You don’t even want that physics, so that choice was to create a room without the male gaze.

I think that space made deeper women-centered scenes possible. Like when the lesbian character, Devon, calls out the woman she’s dating, Toby, while the latter is completely naked for a performance piece that Devon thinks is exploitive. It was a rabbit hole of white feminism versus brown feminism, art for art’s sake versus creating something purposeful and a conversation between lovers.

Thank you for seeing that! I think women viewers do go down a rabbit hole with our show. One woman’s empowerment is another people’s disempowerment, and how does that get talked about in a story between two people who are falling in or out of love? So much fun for a feminist intellectual to think about!

Circling back to the man as muse, what kind of direction did you give Kevin Bacon in playing Dick?

I don’t really get too micro when it comes to a scene, I’m more creating a space for everybody to let loose. I’ll talk to Kevin about a larger emotion he’s playing and he takes care of the pain and sorrow. I do think that who Kevin Bacon is, the six degrees of separation, means something. In looking for real connections, he probably felt a little about Hollywood the way Dick feels about Marfa.

How does being nonbinary affect your work and topple the patriarchy, your goal and the name of your production company?

Luckily, I have the privilege to try being femme, butch or nonbinary. I don’t want to be frivolous about that.

You don’t want to be privileged about your privilege?

No, I don’t want to be privileged about my privilege, because there are so many people who would like to walk into another experience and for whatever reason, they can’t. I’ve been able to create space in my life to experiment, and my parent coming out was a big deal because it allowed me to notice, besides my age and where I am in life, “Where and how do I want to be today?” It’s a very strange thought experiment that feels like a little bit like your turtleneck: I’m not what you see. I’m not even the other thing, like, “Oh, Jill’s a guy now and she’s failing at that!” I don’t want to be failing at my butchness either! I just want to be. The nonbinary thing is great because I just step out of all of the questions of what I am.

I don’t hassle people about pronouns because I know how hard it is. But when people get my pronoun right, it’s such a lovely feeling to not say, “Women are this” or “She is this” or even “Butch is this, masculine is this.” I’m neither, I’m both, I’m constantly changing. It really removes me from my own self-talk of failure, a lot of which was gender.

So, the nonbinary identity itself is fighting the patriarchy by not subscribing to a label.

Yeah, it is all off my table.

What does toppling the patriarchy look like for you?

If Donald Trump could dream of being president, we can dream of anything. Things are happening so quickly; I couldn’t have even imagined I Love Dick five years ago, let alone that it would be on television. I have to believe that there could be a world where the shared values that are currently thought of as religious values, like God, actually become shared values like love and justice. I think most people prefer peace, but because of capitalism, colonialism, imperialism or any of the -isms, we’re where we are right now.

A toppled world means that the kind of masculine, war-mongering, dominance-obsessed men that have their hold on our planet would evolve in a positive way. To me, believing that I can change the world through culture, television, books or movies, that’s how I get out of bed. I don’t see it happening in my lifetime, but I have an 8-year-old, and this could be his future.

This interview has been edited and condensed. 

#_revsp:new_provider_with_logo_342 #_uuid:b5419843-89a2-3749-8ce8-b60c66444723 #_lmsid:a0VK0000001yfWcMAI