Waking up to see that you had removed yourself from my life is the worst thing I’ve ever had to go through. I still haven’t come to terms with it.
I deleted your playlists. Music is supposed to be my escape from the pain but there you sat, reminding me of the deepest pain I’ve ever felt.
I guess forever means different things to both of us because forever isn’t supposed to be this short. I bought all the dreams you sold me now I sit here watching them turn to dust. It’s not your fault, I know.
I’ve been irreligious for a while now and it’s been great but sometimes, I wish I still believed.
I’ve come to realise that there are many things in life that people want to be shielded from. That’s why we immerse ourselves in drugs, alcohol, or belief in a higher power or supreme being who can fix all our problems. Not me though, I’m satisfied with raw dogging life.
Why have I lumped drugs, alcohol, and religion together? It’s simple, at their core, they all provide solace, a place where we don’t have to feel our feelings or think our thoughts…
I started this wanting to tell queer stories from the heart of Africa, and I’m so pleased with how well we did. For Pride Month this year, I wanted to help people find community, and in many ways, we did that.
It’s been a glorious 30 days, and although we couldn’t hit the goal of 30 stories, we touched the hearts of many with the stories we did tell. I couldn’t be more grateful for that.
Pride Month may be over, but you aren’t. Keep being your gay ass self, keep living your truth, keep finding joy in the little…
Let me rephrase, I don't want to be an activist. But when you exist at an intersection of marginalised identities, the world doesn’t give you that choice.
I am a genderfluid asexual aroflux polyamorous lesbian (those are a lot of identities, I know). When I come out to people, I have to explain each of my identities and tell them why I chose my “lifestyle”. I often fantasise about giving people the middle finger and telling them to fuck off and google shit, but I always take deep breaths and explain.
I always have to provide justifications for who I…
Sometimes I feel… wrong.
It’s probably all the comphet and indoctrination letting me know I’m their bitch, but a lot of times I’m sitting alone, minding my damn business, and I start to feel like there’s something deeply wrong with me. Like I’ll never be good enough, no matter how hard I try because I have made the greatest mistake by being queer, being me.
I know there’s nothing wrong with being queer but in those moments it’s like all my reason goes to shit and I just want to curl up in a foetal position and pretend I don’t…
I want to tell you about a time I felt gender euphoria. It was only for a brief moment, but I think about it every day.
So I was doing one of my most hated chores (cooking), and my sister was on a video call with her friend. She said something to me about the food I was making and her friend wanted to know who she was talking to, so she turned the camera to me.
He took one look at me and said something along the lines of “He looks nice”. Well, to be honest, I stopped listening…
I’m in bed now, close to tears, thinking about all the things my community is forced to go through at the hands of cisheteropatriarchy. It’s hard to believe that all the hate thrown at us is simply because we exist outside the boxes society wants to put us in, boxes that are labelled cis and straight.
Twitter used to be my favourite distraction from my life, but no matter how much work I put into curating it perfectly, the hate still seeps through. …
What am I
If not a wallowing pit of despair
Who am I
If not a bastion of confusion
They say I’m a woman
But what is womanhood
Outside of manmade constructs and roles
That shut down the questions in my soul
What am I
If I am not a woman
What is my identity
Outside of the norms I abide by
Me and Gender
We exist on opposite sides of the divide
Lost to each other
Destined to never meet
I sit gently on a cloud
Wafting, waiting, hoping
Searching, trying to find me
We are the boogeymen that live under your beds
we lay up against the nails beneath its fragile frame,
The bed bugs drink from us, draining us
We lay thinly, weakly looking up at you
As you writhe and laugh, and scream, cry, and fight atop that bed,
We lay silently, always silently
To see the sun.
Existing as a queer person means leading a double life like some spy in a movie in that if that part of you becomes public knowledge every single thing is at risk. It also means keeping your partner a secret if their gender expression or identity will go against cisheteronormativity. Constantly switching the pronouns they use while referring to them or settling for gender-neutral pronouns instead. It means constant discourse on your existence and the factors that could have led to your queerness both online and offline.
Some of the questions I asked the people I spoke with involve describing…