We’re Here, We’re Queer!
Well, well, well if it isn't the Ides of March, and time for a new We're Here, We're Queer! This month, I’m doing something a little different. Back in 2016,…
I Am Not A Good Person
If there's one thing that's gotten in my way more than anything else, it's the idea that I need to be "the good one". At first glance, being good sounds…
I Still Have Holiday Anxiety
I wanted to write about my holiday anxiety but, I'm not interested in adding to the sea of "how to beat your holiday anxiety" blog posts and articles out there.…
1000 Days
One thousand days ago I woke up in Honolulu and said "no more." All I knew then was that I could see my future if I kept drinking and it…
We’re Here, We’re Queer! – Laura’s Story
It's time for another We're Here, We're Queer! - A monthly feature where different queer and trans people share their stories about how their recovery intersects with their sexuality and/or…
Genderless
How do I explain what it's like to not have a gender? How can I describe something that has been a part of me for my entire life, the very…
We’re Here, We’re Queer! – Noah’s Story
This month's installment of We're Here, We're Queer is different than prior months. I firmly believe that it's important for queer and trans folk in all kinds of recovery have…
Period Talk
I am on day 2 of my period. Historically, this is the day I’d be a crampy, bloated, bitchy, exhausted mess. But today, I’m pretty okay.
I have PMDD and about three months ago, I was not doing well. I had been on hormonal birth control for about 7 or 8 months and, while it REALLY helped my symptoms initially, most of the benefits ended up being temporary.
In case you aren’t familiar with PMDD, here’s a quick layman’s description: (more…)
Future Eyes
When I look at myself, I see the flaws. The way the squishy part of my hips slightly spill over the waist band of my jeans, the crooked shape of…
Not Hiding
Content Warning: while not particularly descriptive or detailed, this piece does mention self mutilation so, if you’re extra sensitive to that topic, this may not be the read for you.
I don’t remember exactly when the first time was that I cut myself, I just remember that I was in 7th or 8th grade. All of my journals from that time in my life are in my dad’s basement, 3000 miles away in New Hampshire so, I’m having to go on memory here. Please, bear with me as I work to recall the details (more…)
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