I went to the ráth to hideaway,
this world became too much
and so I must go away.
At the rath I met my Queen, dark and powerful,
stunning and bold, stood the Morrigan.
Queen of the Unseelie Court
eternal she never grows old.
She asked me to recount what brought me to her fort.
So this is what I gave as my report.
“My Queen I gave all I had, and ever more.
But still the forces came in scores.
Weapons forged from hearts impure.
Lies woven, nothing but discord.
They battered me, and broke my shield.
All I wielded was my sword. …
Dating while trans is never easy. However, with the updates dating apps are pushing out to be more inclusive of trans and nonbinary identities transphobia still lurks with every swipe and notification. As I have sought a connection in lockdown here are some things I have noticed that dating apps get wrong, and that can amplify distress and dysphoria. …
Whatever the Street
You and I would be bound to meet
If not Henry
Perhaps Patrick Street
Not in Olin,
Maybe not in Ashlan’
A past life
taking dance in Elon
Just a stolen glance
outside Walker Dance
Not in Carolina
How about Louisiana?
As I sip an Au Lait
I catch your eye across the way
The vampires sent me
Would you believe me?
Even as you walked away
I know your heart will find it’s way
back to me
Once again in Jackson Square
Sipping whiskey with a beignet
Your dog jumps excitedly
Seeing me she knows our…
It happened so unexpectedly. She came speeding through and it spun me around, and stole my breath, my heart stopped beating for a second.
She didn’t expect it, and you could see the shattered pieces everywhere.
Onlookers simply passed by, this is just another day, and another wreck. No one need be involved for her.
She made it home in measured steps, sitting in the pain she sought out care.
She held herself together a bit more, and went into the shop.
They told her it didn’t look good, why hadn’t someone told her before she made it in. You can leave her here and we will take a look. …
13 years ago I walked into a coffee shop on the campus of Randolph-Macon and my life changed. Classes had finished it was a crisp fall day. It was the kind of chill that brought your senses alive and the breeze carried the lingering scents of summer in the faintest of ways. I was going to the coffee shop with my friend Kris, he was continually poking fun at me for staying up all night with a girl for weeks on end just to talk. He said I probably didn’t have any game, and she was just looking to be friends. I shrugged it off, and said, “It doesn’t matter, every moment with her is worth a day without sleep.” …
I grew up in church. A lot of us, even in the LGBTQ+ community, grew up in church. But I feel like that is a gross oversimplification of what being part of the church was to my family at the time. We were at church Sunday morning, Sunday evening, Monday night, Wednesday night, and for a good chunk of the year during Upward basketball season Saturday too. Four out of seven days of the week I was in church. It didn’t matter, if the church had something going on our family would be there. From worship services, to potlucks, to plays, to youth parties, to camps, to basketball, to revivals and concerts and everything in between being at this church was our life. We didn’t even live close to this church. …
Since February I had been waiting to get my passport issued and returned to me. With the onset of the pandemic and the government shut down, as much as Trump said there was no shut down, it took until last week for my passport to be issued. Across the entire process the United States government still enforces “rules” on passports for transgender people that are not included anywhere on their website, or in the law. …
It’s Pride Month, and so far we have seen an out of touch woman deride trans women for calling her out on her hatred and vow war, and we have another bigoted and despicable legal action taken by the United States government. We are familiar with the phrases at Pride like “Respect My Existence or Meet My Resistance” but what have we done with that chant? In the last four years we have not taken to the streets, we have not been civilly disobedient, and we have yelled into our echo chamber.
I get that we have done much of this because of the intrinsic nature of our country. If we protest and we are arrested we can face worse consequences, like being put in a male holding cell, being raped in jail, being killed my cops, and being denied our rights. We also face the challenge of wondering where are allies are, and how do we protect ourselves, while advocating for our rights. Nothing that I am saying is meant to denigrate our struggle. By the simple act of breathing we are defying what many in this country and this world wish, that we were not. …
Last night I published an extensive piece systemically refuting J.K. Rowling’s recent hate piece against the transgender community. Today I want to distill that into a much shorter read for those who didn’t have the time to digest the entire argument.
In her piece she refused to acknowledge anything that she has said previously as damaging to the lives of transgender folks. Worse yet, she has taken the stance that she is the victim not the abuser. To do this Rowling equated tweets from those condemning her views and holding her accountable to being the same as the man that sexually assaulted her. She does this because it paints her as a victim, and ties trans women to being men. Throughout her argument she continues to talk about the fact that society can not trust trans women and that men are just trying to assault women. To do this she equates her Twitter experience with trans women to that of sexual assault. She argued that this weekend being told she was wrong was the same as being sexually assaulted. This gaslighting of the event changes the conversation from Twitter and demeaning words she used, to trans women are trying to assault her and other women. …