4 Things the Queer Folks in My Life Taught Me About Resisting Toxic Masculinity

Sam relates lessons learned, applicable far beyond (hopefully) queer folks.

Let's Queer Things Up!

I’m standing outside of a club with friends.

We’re standing in a circle, laughing and chatting and enjoying ourselves. Intermittently, we touch each other’s hair, we put an arm around the other, we kiss each other on the cheek, and we yell above the noise, “I love you so, so much.”

Gender stereotypes and norms might tell you that we’re a group of women.

But we aren’t. We’re a group of queer folks, all with different relationships to masculinity, flaunting a total disregard of gender norms.

When I made the decision to transition – changing my gender presentation and pursuing hormones – I knew that testosterone in particular would come with a host of expectations around performing masculinity.

And as a genderqueer, femme trans boy evaluating my relationship to masculinity, I didn’t know exactly how comfortable I was with that – especially since so many aspects of masculinity can be…

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Why the Republican Party is like a Ford Pinto.

Lucky Otter shares her agreement with Rachel Maddow

Lucky Otters Haven

I can’t believe I actually found a picture that perfectly illustrates Rachel Maddow’s analogy — that was used in a completely different context.  (Picture credit: Drivetribe.com)

Not only is Rachel Maddow, anchor on MSNBC’s The Rachel Maddow Show (now the MOST popular primetime cable news show, overtaking everyone else because of her courageous in-depth research on the Trump-Russia investigation), scarily smart, she’s also wickedly funny.

She was interviewed in Rolling Stone magazine for the June 27, 2017 issue by Janet Reitman, and here’s what she had to say about the Republican and Democratic Parties:

I’m not a huge fan of the Democratic Party.   I’m also less interested in the Democratic Party as a topic — the Republican Party is much more fascinating to me…I’m like a sociological student of the Republican Party — even absent Trump.   There is a robust, well-funded, decades-old, superorganized, focused,  competent conservative movement…

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RISE

Sassy Lassie chooses a mode of remembering.

The Heart of Sassy Lassie

I’ve invested a lot of time and energy in the thinking poorly of you, banishing you from my brain and committing you to the darkest and most tortured part of me.  But have thence, without want nor care, come to peace with the all of you. I choose instead to dangle endlessly spellbound, forever smitten by your lullaby voice, and mesmerized by the magical conjuring of you.

Perhaps when love’s garish, blinding fire settles itself down from a feverish, blistering burn, to a slow, autumn-orange and berry-blue flame, enchanting even the fancy fae of twilight herself, we are also gifted sight of the death-gray soot now layered and exposed: the settling into complacency, the acceptance of the mediocre and the realization remaining true to ourselves isn’t worth the fight.

Truth told, it wasn’t just you that stopped the dance, I untied my laces and hung my pink slippers up long…

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I Am Among The Strange

Insane Roots shares a secret.

Insane Roots

As you all know, I have been struggling with how to begin writing the next installment of Insane Roots; my story. And it truly is my story.

This time, it is more than a collection of memories from my childhood woven together with emotion and neatly printed on a page.

That was merely the foundation for the person I am today. The things I have experienced do not define me. Sure, they had something to do with the end result, but we all feel heartbreak. That in itself is not unique.

The real story, is how I came to find myself along the way.

It is in the journey of discovering my inner strength.

I have felt broken more than a time or two in my life, but every time, I manage to find the courage to pick myself up and move forward. THAT defines me!

Sometimes I may…

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Christians who support Donald Trump have no business criticizing Hugh Hefner

Beth Caplin makes the case (quite well) for this title.

National Coffee Day! Celebrate!!

The Muse with prose, poetry, and COFFEE.

The Qwiet Muse

☕️ Coffee ☕️

September 29 is National Coffee Day. Officially. Of course, for some of us, this is an every day celebration.

*to my family – specifically my husband, I am NOT making this up. It’s a thing. Bring me home a venti.

I’m currently savoring my second cup. I plan on continuing my celebration of this delightful beverage throughout the day.

I love coffee. Adore it. Hot, iced, luke warm . . . whatever. Put it in a cup and gimme it. Sprinkle in some sugar and pour the cream. Bliss.

Addicted? Perhaps.

There are worse things, like crack or decaf.

I wasn’t always a coffee connoisseur, that was before I had kids. Four of them. Four of them. Coffee found me, wrapped me in a sweet, warm hug and said, “Let me help.” We’ve been inseparable since.

In honor of this beloved beverage, I’d like…

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Throwback Thursday! *And now I’m not allowed to burn candles without supervision – again.

Crystal brings back a post which reminds me of a book title: “Women, Fire, And Dangerous Things” by George Lakoff

The Qwiet Muse

Another Thursday in which I throwback. This time though, it isn’t because I’m in lazy mode and haven’t the oomph or the care to write, no, this time it’s because I am writing. Lots of words. A lot of them. Like enough to maybe become something like a book . . . that many.

So, back to the throwback, this is about me and fire and melted things.

I am proud to say I have not had any mishaps nor have I created or participated in any mayhem involving fire since this post was first written.

Lie. There was a little, BUT, I was an observer. My son was the mischief maker. Did you know coffee creamer is awesome when it meets flame?

AND just so you know, I am not letting a child play with fire, he’s 20, so . . .

And now I’m not allowed

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That room

Lizzi writes of a room you may recognize.

Considerings

There’s a place in my life, which gives my stomach a little twist of anxiety when I think of it; a definite mental tug, trying to suck me back in. I need a sharp intake of breath and a deliberate effort to focus – to shake the mental dust from my metaphorical heels, and stay away. A place which has become slightly legendary, a little bit mythical, and probably a lot out of proportion within the context of the rest of everything.

…and yet.

If I imagine it, it’s as a closed door in my home. A room, deliberately left alone. A shrine unseen and left until I can bear to open the door, let some air in, and move things around; reinstate some purpose.

I can stand in front of it, fingers resting on the well-worn handle, forehead against the wood, the grain an inch in front of my…

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Nothing To Say

Yes, Nicole will and does say it.

The Lithium Chronicles

There is nothing to be said about the way you hover over me,
nothing about the way you grind your hips and your filth
against me from somewhere inside places, I have never been.
There is nothing to be said about the way you breathe,
hot and filled with rage, against the back of my neck
when I write your ugly truths into existence
and when I speak my words above yours.
There is something to be said about the way
a woman’s voice carries, though, and it crosses oceans,
climbs mountains, and charges through wastelands,
gaining speed and strength with every ear it tickles.
But there is nothing to be said of the shoulders
too weak to hold the weight of those voices,
the ears too ignorant to listen,
and the mouths too vile to spit anything other than hate.
No, there is nothing much to say about any…

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EMOTIONAL VOMIT

Hasty reminds us that words sometimes need to be handled like stinging insects, very carefully.

HASTYWORDS

I’m a big fan of honesty.  I think if we hurt we should speak.  We shouldn’t suffer in silence.  But I have learned, over and over again, not every feeling or emotion needs to see the light of day in order for us to heal.  In fact, voicing certain feelings can be harmful to other people as well as to ourselves.  Especially those feelings you might be blaming somebody else for.

Give yourself time to think about what is hurting you.  I have a tendency of saying how I feel when I am in a triggered state.  I am emotionally bulimic.  All too often I am vomiting emotions I should be giving time to digest.

I think most of us have said things that “we didn’t mean”, or in the context of any given situation we would not have said had we understood things more clearly.   Letting our words…

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