Trigger Warnings: Discussion of rape, sexual assault, molestation, rape culture
I will couch this entire post with a disclaimer: I love guys. I think they’re fascinating, fun, sexy creatures. I am not a man-hating queer feminist. Far from it. But I do have my reservations.
I’ve always had trouble trusting guys.
Continue reading “On My Skepticism of Trusting Guys, or The Chilling Reality of Rape Culture”
Gender. We’re all supposed to possess it.
We’re supposed to be able to instantly identify “what someone is.”
And when we can’t…people get confused. Even angry.
I often joke that my gender expression changes by the season.
In cold weather, you’ll find me almost exclusively in my big clompy boots or my Converse high-tops with a zip-up hoodie and an Old Navy Men’s V-Neck tee. To many, I might as well be a teenage boy. I feel more masculine, more grounded into myself. I dress in greyscale, and feel like I’m in drag when I wear more feminine tops or makeup.
But when warm weather comes, I always throw everyone for a loop. I’m all about the sundresses, the cleavage, the legs. With my freshly shaved head, I feel my hips sway and feel my neck poised and arched, the epitome of femininity. But it’s always a rude awakening, when I am suddenly a highly visible piece of meat, when I was able to be cocooned in androgyny over the winter. More threatening, much less safe.
Continue reading “On Gender Expression, or None Gender with Left Girl”