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Who gets to decide?
A few ideas are coalescing for me around trust and the social contract, but the shape is still hazy. My thoughts are wandering and circuitous. Writing is thinking, and my mind can’t quite untie the knot. Sharing these half-baked reflections still feels incorrect somehow, like I should produce an entire thesis before venturing words into… — read more
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To My Father Who Blocked Me Upon Changing My Name
I’m writing raw, which I never do. It’s a rule. Keep it together in front of other people. Don’t let them see too much of you. Stay hidden behind layers of artifice, a performance of personality for all the world to be fooled by. You taught me that. You taught me other people were worthy… — read more
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Off We Go Into The Wild Pale Yonder
Transitions are a peculiar time to write. As you straddle two worlds, you gain new perspective into each, and ideas rush around your head like so many feral squirrels. To grab, quiet, and arrange your thoughts into sensible paragraphs feels impossible but necessary. You see grand insights in glimpses on a drive, in the shower,… — read more
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Taking Up Space
Lately I’ve been dressing like I did in middle school. Grey, brown, tan, and olive take center stage, with particular emphasis on men’s sweaters. I’ve always liked their clothes. When Mom used to take us back-to-school shopping at Kohl’s, I often picked out shirts from the Boys department. She never troubled me about it, which… — read more
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Land of the free, home of the brave
On Friday evening, I attended a women’s soccer game here in southern California. I sat in a stadium full of women’s sports fans, visibly queer people, trans pride flags and people with whom I have had personal, meaningful conversations about the state of our country. As the national anthem swelled, I watched in disbelief as… — read more
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Flaw Salad 