#lgbt experience

[aethyrx]

Found this poem from the 13th century after spending an hour researching translations of Leviticus 18:22:

"Had the son of Amram seen the face of my beloved reddened from the foolishness of liquor, and the beauty of his extremities and the majesty of his beauty, he would not have written in his Torah: 'and with a man do not lie'."

We will persist🥰

[roxygenstudiesagain]

100 days of productivity (1/100) 12/7/22

I don’t intend to make this a daily record, mostly milestones n notable days. I woke up a lil later than I planned but I think I needed the lie-in to deal with all the moments I had to be patient today. I deffo feel like something new is starting, not just coz the semester and year is ending. Just a lot of cool resources falling into my lap and I appreciate it so much!

Today’s highlights

Was driven to campus, had to do my tuberculosis screening. My blister blew up lol. Friday and all this packet hustling for my new gig will be over. At least my boss likes me!

After months of feral avoidance I finally signed up with a new primary care provider! I hope my symptoms didn’t get too unsolvable in the time this took

Stood up for my name and bronouns even though I was nervous. Telling people I’m a boy called Roxy is hard, especially when they’re expecting a girl. I played it cool and grateful and the receptionist actually did a really amazing job handling it. I might ask for her details so I can commend her to her boss

Did a delivery gig that was over 20 usd, did the pickup, got food paid for by my college for me and my wife

Returned one of my portable WiFi hotspots and renewed another And got a 6 month Chromebook loan from the library (will have to tiktok it later). It’s like untouched. So fast. Writing is going to be a breeze.

Created a gif for one of my assignments at college (graphics) and commented on the sharing forum, reviewed all homework to do till the semester ends.

Got my grade back for my screenwriting class! Treatment got 23/25!! I’m happy I’ll take it :)

Sent a message to my professor about the spec script I’m thinking of doing and she approves of it and my potential entry into a very cool workshop ;^) watch this space

Things I gotta do soon:

Participate in screenwriting class at least a lil tomorrow

Get back into regular exercise (bike and ringfit. Hit 100 sessions a couple weeks back)

Keep up doing ukulele practice (I’ve actually been weirdly motivated as of recent)

Diet overhaul, talk with nutritionist about making something that will help me thrive

Book all my medical investigations, especially sleep study/pcos/plantar fasciitis resolutions. Maybe even scoliosis…. Now I have something nearby I can bug about stuff that I’ve ignored for years esp dental

Get into the swing of storyboards for my friends game

Get back into yoga

Establish a routine of communication w my family

Get on top of bills and cards

Pay off visa n sort citizenship

Work till the new semester starts, keep applying for animation gigs, grow LinkedIn and online platforms, folio fixes

Get back into publishing comic pages

[ri-afan]

Look, growing up I never really thought about my sexuality until it felt more relevant or I was forced to think about it. (Should have been a clue, but whatever). I thought I was gay in middle school because I didn’t really care about guys, but my mother was homophobic, so I did my best to ignore it.

In high school, I learned more about the term bisexual (and later pansexual) and I thought: this is it, this is me. I feel the same about everyone, so this must be what I am. Mom’s still queer-phobic, so I’m still not talking about it, but I felt like I solved a mystery that could be dealt with later.

The first time I heard the terms “aromantic”, “asexual”, and “aroace” years after THAT, I pretended I knew what they were because I stupidly didn’t want to feel dumb in the conversation. The conversation moved on and I never looked them up. (I was in a relationship at the time, almost a year I believe.)

Almost 2 YEARS later, I’m introduced into the terms again and actually learn, and then spend the next year seeing if “asexual” applied to me (it did, I came out then, mother still is queer-phobic, but I’m in college so its not like I’ll be kicked out.) and the next year finding out I’m non-binary/agender, then the next year pondering aromanticism amidst my established long term relationship.

Like the rest of my life, it’s like I took the scenic route, but it worked for me. It might be working for others. It might even feel super frustrating, but you’ll get where you need to be in the end.

Even if you never ‘come out’.

shout out to queer people who haven’t “known the whole time”, or didn’t hear labels for the first time and have something “click”. you’re not faking it, your story is still worthy of being told.

[queerism1969]

[a-thread-of-green]

I've spent the last two weeks speedrunning coming out as a trans woman to my coworkers, extended family, and the assorted friends I'd collected through Facebook and I've been shocked and overwhelmed by how enthusiastically supportive cis women have been in particular. After doomscrolling through TERF shit for the past year, I'd become convinced that cis women tended towards distrust of trans women, with a significant percentage actively vitriolic. But, time and time again, I've received effusive praise from the cis women I come out to. Not just progressive women either: Christian Facebook-moms from Texas have been enormously supportive. I've gotten some support from cis men too, but nothing nearly as passionate, and they've been the source of all the awkward avoidance or disgusted looks I've experienced. It makes complete sense: cis women generally like being women, and most of them like it a lot, so why wouldn't they celebrate somebody else becoming like them? This really drives home how dishonest TERFism is: they present themselves as the voice of women, but really they're just a regressive minority, distorting the issues to lead people away from their inclination towards love and acceptance.

[iamamanwhowasraped]

I don’t know why I chose today all days to write down what happened to me when I was raped and assaulted. It’s been over 30 years of silence, shame and blaming myself. I still haven’t the courage to do this anonymously. “. He too”, just feels too public, too raw and a risk, as I am still very vulnerable, still very raw, still a long way to go to heal.

Baby steps.

I was 18 years old when my entire world changed. That was also the day my entire personality changed for ever. The day they took a piece of my soul, a piece I don’t think I can ever get back or replace. Im 50 now, and I have no idea why it has taken till now to express it. After internalising it every day. You see other people telling their stories of rape and sexual assault. They do it, not anonymously like me. Everyone salutes their bravery. So do I. But I just cannot go that far. Shouting my rape and assault to the rooftops makes me feel terrified and shameful. So many men and women in particular, have been raped, sexually assaulted and abused. It’s a huge thing for me. And my rape belongs to me. No-one can devalue or minimise it. To be just another person on a pile of rape stories… forgettable…the thought of that feels like it could crush me.

The truth is, people have grown tired of #metoo #hetoo personal testimonies. That movement, as refreshing as it was at the time, had the adverse effect. It became a fad in time, an ice bucket challenge. People are tired of rape stories really.. Another rape. Another sexual assault. Childhood sexual abuse. These are also traumatising to hear for other victims particularly.

Each one of those stories is a personal tragedy. It shatters most lives. Irreparable damage and fallout. The lifelong fallout of mental illness, relationship difficulties, ongoing physical, psychological and sexual abuse, addiction, career and financial difficulties, crime and prison time…the social costs are endless.

I want to tell you what happened to me.

I was 18 hears old in the early 90s. I was terrified of HIV and AIDS which meant at that time, la high chance of death, as treatments were in their infancy. Homophobia was rife when I left to start university at a small English city, in the Midlands. It was, multicultural, working class, crime-ridden but tens of thousands of students brought the city to life. It was my emancipation from a narcissistic hostile homophobic father and family. .I could be gay, mostly, out in safe circles although there were incidents. A drunk fellow student on Saturday night trying to break into my digs to beat me up…luckily the rugby lads would stand up for me and gave him a hiding. He was never expelled, jsomething that would happen immediately now.

After about 6 months I went to the local gay club. It was the time of #madchester, #rave, Hacienda and dance music. I went a few times when a tall, overweight, not particularly good looking guy made a beeline to talk to me. I had dropped an e so i was “loved up”. I’m fastidiously polite and friendly so i talked to him, continuing to dance, to show, “sure I’m friendly, I’ll talk to anyone, but I just want to dance”. I didn’t want to convey any other messages as I was not interested in him romantically. He asked if I was single. Dreaded question. I avoided the answer to the question … “ i love this tune”, probably commenting on how great the music and DJ were. I remember it was Ecstasy by Shades of `Rhythm or something similar. I felt sorry for him. He was clumsy, unattractive, dressed with badly fitting, unfashionable clothes. That didn’t bother me. What bothered me was that he needed connection. He seemed desperate for it. And so i thought no harm in connecting a little.

The night ended and I said goodbye. “Come back to mine”, he said. “No”, I said. “I want to go home and anyway Mike (lets call him that), I’m sort of seeing someone else so we can only be friends”. He had a disappointed look on his face for a brief moment but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. The way he was looking at me still gave an impression that his pursuit of me was undeterred. “Tell you what, will you be in here next week?” “Yes if you’re going to be here”. I should have recoiled a little at what I look back on as language reminiscent of a stalker knowing what I know now. But at that point I thought id never meet him again.

I saw him a few times as sure enough he was there at that club every Saturday night. When I didn’t tgo, the following few week he would almost panic, “where were you? I was here but you never came out”.

Then the Saturday night came. I was dabbling with drugs, ecstasy mainly, with speed on occasion. It was that time in the culture. A culture I dove into feet first. That night, i had a triple x, a particularly strong pill. I bumped into Mike and was so high I didn’t care. He got me a drink which I know, looking back, he spiked with acid. I just know I was out of control and hour after i had the drink he bought me. He was with a straight friend who was also 6 foot plus, muscular, rough and really too edgy for my liking. He was serious, He felt cold, detached. Speed, E and now a trip. The walls of the club were like waterfalls and the dance floor was filling up with the flowing walks so it seemed. I was in a nightmare. I felt frightened, out of control, disassociated and I was terrified.

All of a sudden i was with them, in a taxi, incoherent. Then I was at a house. Time was strange, I couldn’t tell a minute from ten minutes. When I asked where we were, Mike said Adie’s. (Not his real name.)

I was incoherent still. “Can i lie down?”, I asked sheepishly. Adie showed me upstairs to his bedroom. “Lie down there mate. I’ll pop up in a bit.”

I’m high, alert, off it, delirious, tripping, hallucinating and I feel bad. I wanted it to stop. Face into the pillow, I barely noticed anyone coming into the room but for the light. I was unaware i was being undressed straight away. I didn’t notice him taking off my shoes, jeans and underwear. I was confused when I was lifted up and my t shirt was being pulled off. Then panic set in. “No, what are you doing? Get off me, wheres Mike?” That’s when Ade forced me back onto the bed, lay on top of me and forced his tongue in my mouth. . A drug fucked kiss, didn’t scare me but he whispered “you little prick tease, we’re going to fuck your arse”. He turned me over hard, so I was face down, a fore arm choking my neck and then he was inside me. No warning, no condom< nothing. I couldn’t do anything but hoarsely whisper “no, stop” because his forearm was seriously choking my windpipe. I couldn’t get him off as he was too heavy. I was pinned . The pain in my arse floored me and worsened as he pushed himself all the way in. I must have screamed as best as I could, but with restricted air, it was almost unheard. I was a virgin and so I hadn’t douched, engaged in foreplay, had any lubrication and so I tightened up even more, . The pain was excruciating. I screamed, “no”, grabbing a breath, biting his forearm as hard as i could. He screamed. He retaliated by punching me in the side of the head, again and again. “Ill fucking kill you, you fucking prick tease, were gonna fuck you, fucking cunt … stop fighting it you little prick, ill beat your fucking lights out, take my dick…”, he whispered these words into my ear when I started to realise I could t stop him or fight him off.

Then Mike was inside me. No warning. I knew because Adie said “fuck him, thats it, fuck his arse.” I was still tight and the pain was worse. Burning, hot, pain like i was being punched inside over and over. Then Adie forced his unwashed dick my mouth, choking me. My gag reflex had me vomiting except my stomach was empt. Dry heaving, struggling to breathe.

I used all my strength to get away, fell on the floor and scrambled to the door but they were on top of me, and suddenly I heard the thumps of hard punches to my back, around my kidneys. So winded, beaten, immobilised and terrified, they lifted me onto the bed without any fight. I realised that flight was impossible. I was left with that awful choice so many rape victims face. Fight and face potential violence or worse consequences. So I made the choice. I Accepted the rape. I Let it happen. And I feel shame and feel to blame. That makes no sense but thats how it feels.

And so I let it happen. The body and mind protect you. I know they came inside me twice each perhaps. But time was suspended. Body shuts down. Depersonalisation.

All told, I know it lasted between 3 to 4 hours. I don’t know how long it was after they stopped raping me to when i got dressed. I must have taken a while to realise they stopped and i was alone. A clock said 6am. I crept down the stairs and they were both asleep in the lounge. I ran as fast as i could, out the front door which i didn’t even close behind me, fearing noise might wake them.

The rape was far more than I have written here. They were verbal too. “Prick tease”, “faggot”, “cocksucker”, “cunt” saying things like how I deserved everything they gave me a lot i have forgotten over the years.

I walked home ever so slowly. There was none around. No-one to beg for help. No-one to just look at and feel human again for a second. Hours seemed to go by for that 4 mile walk. I looked in my mirror hours later in the entrance hall. Split lip, blackened reddened cheek. I lifted up my t shirt, and failed to cry when i saw the black bruising on my lower back and his teeth marks near the base of my neck…. When I saw the mess of blood, shit, their semen and sweat behind me…

I felt sore. Dirty. Beyond shock. Unable to cry.

There is a smell to rape that is indescribable. Its a smell that you never forget but fear to remember. A smell that makes you want to wash your entire body, to purge your entire being of it.

Then comes the inevitable self blame. I took drugs. Did I give mixed signals? Did my politeness, suggest yes i wanted sex?. I said “no, stop”, maybe it wasn’t loud enough, maybe it wasn’t believable enough. The self blame of the last 30 years.

The truth is, it was not my fault.

I was vulnerable.

I said no.

And my virginity, was something that I wanted to hose to give to a man, someone i loved, someone of my choosing when I wanted.

To be continued: the aftermath.

Theft, And Wandering Around Lost by Cocteau Twins

The man is an offender

He took my value

And I give back his shame

And I take back my power

My body is my own

My body is mine alone

And I deserve protection

And I can create it for you

Is this what my body said?

"Use me

Drain me

Fall around me"

Is this what my body said?

"Engulf me

I'm already dead"

I have a feel of things

Cry and shakes the wall for you

And I am moving to poison love

And drown the stars above you

My body is my own

My body is mine alone

And I deserve protection

And I can create it for you

Is this what my body said?

"Use me

Drain me

Fall around me"

Is this what my body said?

"Engulf me

I'm already dead"

Keep cutting myself on the edges of reality

Keep cutting myself on the edges of reality

Is this what my body said?

Keep cutting myself on the edges of

"Use me Reality

Drain me

Fall around me"

Is this what my body said?

Keep cutting myself on the edges of

"Engulf me Reality

I'm already dead"

[cryingbard]

A different kind of grief, I guess

[tgirltammy]

Down for creamy dick and you want some cum DM on telegram:@Tammytransn

[biblicallyaccuratemoth]

I’m not wet, I’m just covered in water!

As an egg, I once prayed to god to make me a girl. Just for a day, “to know what it was like.” I try to be compassionate towards myself for all those little egg things— poor girl was going through it. But it’s hard not to get frustrated with myself sometimes regardless for all the obvious, unheeded signs.

[lexiwhytesblog]

If I let you fuvk me, would you finish in my mouth , my tits or inside me? 🤤

Let me know in the comment section 🔞🥵

[bli-o]

“You dont want kids? I said the same thing at your age. You’ll realize later.”

“You’re trans? You’re too young to know that. You’ll grow out of it.”

“You’re an atheist? You don’t actually disbelieve, you’re just mad at god. One day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess.”

“You’re a leftist? You’ll become more conservative eventually; every generation does when they come into contact with The Real World™️”

“You’re gay/ace/queer? You just havent met the right man/woman yet.”

If you say any of the above things give me your personal information so i can harm you

edit: the terfs found this post. Y’all fuckin KNOW “give me your personal information” is a joke. I know your job is to paint trans people as evil and stuff but try harder at least, we know you’re not that stupid.

anywaysy crazy how u guys r aligning with people who like theocracy and homophobia and heteronormity just because you hate trans people. It’s almost like you, my fellow hoes, are really damn predictable.

Edit 2: i love how after that first edit terfs mysteriously stopped interacting

[chrissy-kaos]

Am I hot enough to be your goth girlfriend? 🦇🕸️🕷️

[goodboy-ftm]

I was humping his leg and he said "yeah use me like the dog you are" and when I say I nearly came right then and there,,,,,

[pally-plate]

Actually, I AM trapped in the wrong body.

I AM a boy trapped in a girl’s body.

I WAS born in the wrong body.

I DO hate my body.

I DO want to change it FOR ME and NO ONE ELSE.

I AM distressed because my body ISN’T right.

And I’m definitely not the only one.

It’s ok if you, as an individual trans person, hate the “born in the wring body,” thing. But stop trying to convince people that every trans person hates that way of describing our experiences.

You are 100% allowed to use whatever descriptions you want for your experiences, but so are we. We who WERE born in the wrong body and feel most comfortable describing it that way.

This is in no way a call-out post, or trying to offend anyone. It’s simply a request to stop acting like trans people are a monolith who ALL prefer the SAME EXACT terms.

[leikeliscomet]

The aspec community REALLY needs to add intersecting identities to these analysis' instead of making general statements. How helpful is 'ace women are seen as pure because everyone thinks all women are asexual' when we look at the sexualisation of Black women and the Jezebel, the idea Black girls are 'fast' and the general sexualisation of women of colour e.g. spicy latina trope? Are we factoring in how the desexualization of women of colour e.g. the Mammy, the 'submissive' East Asian women trope, the virginity myth isn't acceptance of female asexuality? Does 'ace men are expected to be more sexual' factor in the sexualisation of Black men and other men of colour e.g. 'savage' Arab trope and the antiblack trope that they're inherently predatory? Or the desexualisation of East Asian men? How easily can we define the ace men v ace women experience at all if trans and non-binary aces are missing from most ace representation despite facing the brunt of anti ace discrimination? If we're solely defining these experiences by cis aces? How easily can aroallos 'just have sex' when you factor in the demonisation of gay sex, HIV/AIDS crisis and seraphobia and how this affects gay, lesbian, bi and pan aros? How easily can alloaces 'just partner up' when you factor in the ban of gay marriage that is still in many countries across the globe and the historical policing of 'homosexual behaviours' and this impacts gay, lesbian, bi and pan aces? And this isn't even getting into disability, religion etc. yet. When there's SO many factors that play into how an individual participates in sex and romance, or if they're even allowed to participate at all, how much can we clearly cut the aspec experience into alloace v aroace v aroallo. Or sex favourable v sex indifferent v sex repulsed. There's A LOT we can learn from each other.

[cryingbard]

If you see this, it's not too late.