Time to Set the Record Again

As some of you may know, it's Nonbinary Awareness Month.

As some of you may have figured out from my previous posts, I'm genderfluid. But I'm guessing most of you don't know what that means.

Let's start with the definition of transgender, shall we? Ask the average cis (non-trans) person, and they will tell you it means 'a man who wants to be a woman' or 'a woman who wants to be a man.'

No. Just no. That definition is so wrong it's not even funny. A trans woman is a woman, regardless of what it says on her birth certificate or what is between her legs. Same goes for trans men. They - or should I say, we - are not trannies. We are transgender. We are not freak shows. We are not anyone's entertainment. We are people. We deserve the same respect accorded to any cis person. And obviously, I am including myself in that statement. Because here's the thing: I'm transgender. I've already come out as bisexual and as pagan. Why not as another part of my identity: trans?

Now, let me clarify. On my birth certificate, it says 'female.' I have all the same parts as a cis woman - and, unfortunately for me, a little more than the average cis woman when it comes to cleavage.

I do not identify as male, despite the fact that when I was five years old, I cheerfully informed my parents that I was their son and have often preferred masculine clothing from the moment I was old enough to dress myself (though there was this one awkward phase during which I tried to force myself to be feminine because I thought I was a butch lesbian and that absolutely horrified me because I had this completely ignorant image of what people with boobs and a vagina are 'supposed' to be). I occasionally wear dresses and jewelry and makeup - though these really shouldn't be considered exclusive to women; it's rather imbecilic that they are. I don't mind female pronouns, though I also want to use male or neutral ones. Because, while I am female, that's not all I am.

There are days when I feel so uncomfortable with the feminine shape of my face and the shape of my body that I just want to hide in a corner, days when I can't stand the thought of wearing a dress and my identity feels between the two binary genders. On those days, I'm androgynous. There are days when I don't mind wearing somewhat feminine clothing (but still no makeup or skirts), but still hate being gendered as female because on those days, I don't have a gender. On those days, I'm agender. And there are days when I do feel like a typical girly girl and want to wear makeup and dresses and pretty things. On those days, I'm female. And some other days, I'm somewhere in-between all of this.

In other words, my gender is fluid. Therefore, I identify as genderfluid.

Are we all clear on this? Good. For a more articulate explanation of what it's like to be genderqueer (an umbrella that encompasses all gender-nonconforming people who do not identify as the gender opposite of the one they were assigned at birth), check out this awesome video.

If you have any more questions, post them in the comments. Or ask me in person if you know me in real life.

Christian Microaggressions

I'm writing this post because certain Christians think they are entitled to make religious microaggressions.

It's against my beliefs - against the beliefs of most pagans, if not most non-Christians and some Christians - to judge anyone based on religion.

However, I have nothing against objective, well-thought evaluation. I have nothing against coming to conclusions through logic and reason, and then announcing them. In that sense, I will indeed judge people based on their religion - or rather, the behavior that they use their religion to justify.

I will judge the Taliban for using Islam as an excuse to be oppressive, vile murderers. Does that mean I am islamophobic? No. It means I am judging the Taliban and the persecution they perpetrate. Just as I judge the Taliban, I will judge Christian supremacists for being kyriarchal bigots - and often, equally as vile and oppressive and murderous as the Taliban. I will hold other people to the same standards to which I hold myself, and I will not be apologetic about it. If they don't meet these standards, I will judge and I will criticize. I will be a pain in the ass if I have to be.

And lately, I've had to be.

Christian supremacy is so pervasive in Western society, especially in America - even Michigan. Michigan is usually a pretty okay place to live, on the every day level - I'm probably safer here than I would be in, say, below the Bible Belt - but there are times when this state and the people in it just make me want to bang my head against a wall repeatedly.

Microaggressions are something that I, as a person with an intersectional, marginalized identity, suffer from all the time. From the casual use of words like 'retard' and 'slut' and 'faggot' in my school to teachers who don't seem to realize that accessibility is a thing to jokes about Ferguson that do not oppress me as a white person but which do enrage me as an empathetic human being, microaggressions are so incredibly prevalent in my life and even if it's just a joke, even if it's not known to the aggressor that their behavior is problematic, they're fucking not okay.

But this post is becoming rather long-winded, and I'm tired. So let's get to the point, shall we?

• "But you have to go to Mass." This was said to me while I still identified as Catholic, but had begun to question whether or not Christianity was right for me, as I was working at the church's pumpkin sale and skipped Mass because of that. Two things wrong with this: the aggressor assumed I was a Christian myself (though this assumption was somewhat reasonable) and it was ableist because it's frankly unrealistic to expect someone whose AD/HD was as bad as mine and who hadn't taken their Concerta that morning - because I usually don't on weekends, something that this aggressor knew perfectly well - to sit through anything that goes on for just over an hour, during which you're expected to be still (except for kneeling, standing up to sing, and getting the Eucharist) and listen to a long-winded - albeit friendly - priest the entire freaking time, and are reprimanded if you fail at doing so. I am seventeen years old, and this person was, to put it bluntly, not the boss of me. Besides, why the ever-loving fuck did it matter if I went to church anyway?
• The time a stranger proselytized to me in a supposedly secular space. A few weeks ago, I was in the parking lot of my public American high school, getting ready to walk home and not giving any indication that I even wanted to be approached, when an older woman, maybe in her fifties or sixties, walked up to me and said sweetly, "It's cold out, isn't it?" I don't like being rude, and in retrospect probably felt safe around the woman because she reminded me of my aunt Karen - which does not excuse her actions - so I engaged with Strange Lady in some brief small talk. Before I could even process what's going on or pick up on her social cues - eff you, cognitive difficulties - the lady said, while giving me a pamphlet about the Bible, "Here's some information about God. You might be interested." Sweet smile again, and she walked off - farther onto school property, likely preparing to recruit some other teens, who hopefully for them would be allistic and therefore better able to recognize social cues and escape. At the time, I was just like, WTF just happened? Looking back, I can't help but wonder what in the world she thought she was doing, proselytizing to random teenagers who were innocently trying to walk home, on the property of a public school. Separation of church and state, much?! Also, it pisses me off that she was only nice because she was trying to recruit me. Is she like this with everyone, only polite if they're Christians or if she's trying to get them to be? Would she have been even more rude if she'd known I was actually a pagan, sex-positive queer feminist? I'll never know, but she sure gave the impression that she would have been.
• That thing my mom said while we were holiday shopping. Then, when my aunt Heather (yes, Jeffory, Aunt Heather is Abby's mom) informed her of this tonight at my cousin Sam's birthday party, Mom had the nerve to tell me I'd been rude. Really?! (In case you're wondering, I half-jokingly informed Aunt Heather that she was kicked off the blog and ignored my mother before my lovely PITA side decided to make an appearance. I rather like my PITA side, but there are times when you just gotta bite your tongue.) Later, when she and the stepdad were discussing whether to go to church tomorrow, she asked me whether I thought church on Christmas Day was enough. As a pagan and as someone who frequently forgets their AD/HD medicine on the weekends, I was of course eager to avoid church. So I quickly said that I thought it was, and then proceeded to inform her that I thought nature was a better setting in which to worship God anyway, I'd never liked Mass (except for the music), even when I'd been an extremely devout Christian, and the idea of worshiping the Creator of the Universe in some man-made building as opposed to creation itself just confuses the living daylights out of me. But I digress. And that leads us to the latest...
• "If you want to be a Catholic, you have to go to Mass." Clearly, Mom knows I'm a pagan now (also, this probably means she also knows I'm queer. Hi, Mom!). The fact that she got this information from Aunt Heather, who got it from my blog, should be a pretty clear indication that I do not want to be a Christian. Does she respect my intelligent, well-thought decision? No, she doesn't. Because the fact that I'm not a Christian despite having been born into a Christian family and having mostly Christian friends obviously means there's something wrong with me. I'm a pagan, so clearly I need to be brought back to the "winning team", to quote that episode of The Simpsons where Lisa becomes a Buddhist. Here's the thing: I have no desire to become a Christian. I'm a pagan and very happy with that fact. She also seems to think that my calling her out on these aggressions and the others that she has made is a personal affront to her. It's not. It's me explaining my frustrations with Christian supremacy and microaggressions during a season which is so frequently associated with Christianity but is also a time of celebration for Judaism, quite a few European pagan paths, and God (pun intended) knows what other religions. It's me talking about the fact that I resent her ignorance and that of so many other Christians when it comes to something that is not only a vital part of my identity but hugely influenced our family history and that her religion had appropriated for the holiday we were celebrating.

I should really get some sleep. It's after midnight. Blessed be to all, and to all a good night.

My First Holiday Season as a Pagan

Okay, I unfortunately did not get to do a lot of the things on my 'making Yule special' list this year, only because I started preparing so late. I did go on a lot of hikes (there's not much snow around here, and there's a trail near my house) and meditate and pray. It was cool. And I got to eat some traditional Yule food (sort of) when we had squash at my stepfamily's Christmas party last Saturday.

I did end up giving knitted presents to a lot of family members. Mostly book marks, but I also made a doll, using my own pattern, and I gave it to my four-year-old cousin Abby. The book marks were cute - little strips of knitted material in different colors, with fringes or buttons or ribbon for accents. Right now, I have a red baby's hat going on a loom, and an infinity scarf on my 19-mm plastic needles. I'll give the hat away or sell it, but the scarf has too many mistakes to anything with but keep it. It still looks okay, but I'm just really rusty. This winter is the first time I've knitted in a little over two years.

Obviously, though, when you're one of the only pagan members and one of the only queer members of a mostly Christian, cishet family, there's going to be complications.

A day or two before Christmas, I was explaining to my mom how 'Deck the Halls' used to be about a booze-fueled Christmas party until the lyrics were changed and references to Yule were added, and how Christmas is basically Yule with Jesus. I found this fascinating - I find religion and history in general fascinating - but apparently with her it went in one ear and out the other, because she just gave me this sh*t-eating grin and said, "Well it's a good thing we believe in Jesus!"

 In all fairness, I haven't really talked to her about the whole paganism thing. Or the whole bisexuality thing. Or the gender fluidity thing. I don't even think she knows I like girls, despite the fact that I'm a member of like a million LGBTQ+ groups on Facebook, my profile says 'Interested In: Men and Women', and she loves Facebook. But still, she makes little microaggressions all the flipping time and it's so annoying. If I didn't look so infuriatingly much like she had when she was my age, I would wonder if we were even related. But she totally missed the pissed-off look I gave her and as I got out of the car (because we were holiday shopping), she said cheerfully, "Don't be a pagan in there!"

Really? Really, Mom? I was, in fact, a pagan in there. I'm a pagan as I'm writing this. I'm a pagan every day. When I pray, I don't pray to the Abrahamic God. When I do things that pertain to my faith, they are simple prayers and meditations on our neighborhood hiking trail or entries and poems in my BOS. Should I, by some miracle, decide to get married, I'll have a Triple Moon Ceremony. Possibly with a woman. If I end up raising kids, I won't be raising them as Christians (because I'll educate them about all religions to the best of my ability while raising them as pagans and let them decide for themselves when they're older and can make the decision responsibly).

That's exactly what I wanted to say to her. But I digress.

Thankfully, none of the more holier-than-thou relatives tried to engage me or convert me (to cisnormativity, heterosexuality, or Christianity), but I did discover that I've hooked Ella and LiLi's sister Abby (not the four-year-old) on The Fosters, this awesome sitcom on ABC Family about a multiracial blended family with two moms. The news made me smile. I also teased Ella about her refusal to read the Harry Potter series (she apparently finds the magical aspect 'creepy', despite the fact that it can be argued that Jesus was magical. I know, I don't get it either).

There was a Catholic prayer with my mom's side before Christmas Eve dinner, but I can understand that. They are Catholic after all, and the presence of one pagan relative isn't going to change that. I just stayed quiet and quietly thanked the Universe with all its various spirits and deities for my food, good fortune, and health, while my relatives did their Christian thing. We all come from the same spiritual source, after all, and diversity is beautiful. The celebration of it needs to continue with us all, myself included.

Of course, we went to church on Christmas Day. I felt a little awkward - this was the first time I'd actually been inside our local church since admitting to myself that I no longer identified as Christian, since my parents aren't regular church-goers - but it was okay overall. There was a lot of singing and I do like singing. I changed the lyrics of 'Silent Night' to be a little more Yule-y, despite the fact that it was no longer Yule:

Round Yon Goddess Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace...

 I heard some mutters from some of the older parishioners when I did that, but if someone I barely know wants to be ignorant, I don't really care as long as they don't do anything that will really hurt someone. I have as much right to freedom of religion as anybody else; I'm not obligated to pay lip service to a religion that has oppressed and murdered people like me for two thousand years.

Ahem.

So, merry meet, happy holidays, and have a good New Year.

Knitting!

I learned how to knit at age fourteen and kind of dropped it after a few months, but recently I've gotten back into it and am knitting a blanket. It's a bunch different colored squares, sewn together (well, it will be. I only have one square finished so far and I'm working on another), and the color scheme seems to be greens and blues, but I'll probably add in some reds and golds. The first square is two different yarns, a thick cream-colored one, I think wool, combined with a thinner blue-green. The square I'm working on now is a thick medium green yarn.

After a few more squares, I'm hoping to make a hat, scarf, and a few potholders. And after THAT, I might knit a knitting bag - in the colors of the rainbow, of course. I never really learned anything more complicated than a purse, but thanks to Google that might change :)

How I'm Making Yuletide Special This Year

So, yes. You've seen the other posts about my spirituality. It's pretty nature based, and my belief in gods tends toward a combination of pantheistic and (agnostic) polytheistic...that is, I believe that the ancient pantheons could exist, though I don't have any proof (and I will never; despite my personal beliefs, even the very existence of God(s) will never be able to be proven or disproven) but I don't worship them, I merely honor them and believe that they can affect the balance of things, and that when God created the universe They, in a sense, became the universe. Sort of like how Christians see angels and the Virgin Mary, really. Beyond that, I've pretty much summed up my beliefs on the subject of deities. I combine things that I feel drawn to from various religions, that I feel make sense based on my observations of life and my opinions about God. In other words, I'm an eclectic pagan (again, fundies, don't get your knickers in a twist. Freedom of religion, you know? I have just as much right to that as anyone else). Merry meet and blessed be.

I'm still going to youth group because I do think that Jesus existed and was an awesome dude who did some awesome things, I believe that all religions are connected and come from the same spiritual source, and I have friends there that I don't really get to see that often otherwise. We've had Buddhists and a witch in youth group before, so I don't think anyone really cares that much whether or not I'm Christian. And if they do or if I feel disrespected or violated, I'll leave. I'm not obligated to spend time around people who disrespect me.

One of the customs that I feel drawn to is the idea of Yule, or the celebration of the winter solstice and the rebirth of light. Someday, I hope to have a really awesome Yule party. But alas, I am a seventeen-year-old high school junior and this year that really awesome Yule party will not happen. But I did some research on Yule traditions so I can at least make the Solstice special in my own way. So, here is...

My Guide to Yule in a Christian Family

• Wear clothing in Yule colors (red, green, gold, white, silver, yellow, and orange)
• Do something with mistletoe, holly, poinsettias, and evergreen (yes, these "Christian" traditions were stolen from paganism. A lot of Christmas ones are)
• Decorate with red and gold bows (I'll probably put one in my hair)
• Drink wassail, spiced cider, and ginger tea
• Eat some roasted apples
• Light some cinnamon, pine, cedar, or bayberry incense or a candle
• Make Yule foods and bring them to family parties (these muffins sound awesome)
• If anyone gives you a hard time for partaking in Christmas traditions despite not being Christian (just in case), nicely educate them about the origins of wassail, holly, spiced cider, roasted apples and nuts, poinsettias, mistletoe, Christmas trees, "Christmas colors", and caroling, then ask why they're participating in Yule traditions if they're not pagan
• Go caroling. I recommend 'Deck the Halls'
• Think of Christmas as a time to enjoy being with family and a time to love others and celebrate new hope, the way a lot of people do nowadays, when you're celebrating Christmas with your relatives
• Write poetry, spells, prayers, whatever you want in your BOS (which I plan to make for myself soon)
• Go around saying "Merry Meet" and "Blessed Be" (traditional pagan greetings) and say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" (because you don't know what someone else celebrates)

Our Health is More Important Than Your Religion

In one of the LGBT+ groups I'm a member of on Facebook, someone shared this article.

I know. I'm pissed too.

Religious freedom? What complete bullshit. How is it freedom and equal protection under the law, like the Constitution says all Americans are supposed to have, like everyone in the world should have, if I and so many others like me might die because it's supposedly okay for members of a religion that a lot of us don't even agree with to neglect our medical needs in the name of their religious freedom?

 Was it 'religious freedom' when autistics and accused witches and homosexuals and heretics were burned or hanged or tortured for hundreds of years in the name of Christianity, and are likely still today? Was it religious freedom when Black lives were completely devalued, their bodies destroyed and beaten by brutal slavery, because White Christians felt that Blacks were somehow inferior to them? When an autistic boy died because a preacher knelt on his chest while trying to exorcise the 'demon' that had 'caused' his autism? When so many Muslims were murdered simply for staying true to their faith and the home that had been theirs for centuries, because Queen Isabel wanted her people to be Christian? When the Spanish invaded the Americas and obliterated so much Aztec, Inca, and Maya culture, and then enslaved the people of those civilizations? How about when the English and French pillaged the villages of Native Americans, raped and killed their people, and called them savage and worthless - after those same people had welcomed them and tried to be their friends? Is that the kind of bullshit religious freedom these oppressive bastards want? 

Look, I frankly don't give a shit what religion anyone is or even if they have one. What I give a shit about is the way they act. What I give a shit about is if people are getting hurt. If someone thinks their right to practice their religion is somehow more important than another person's safety or health or rights or life, I will fight back.

With my nature-based spirituality, neurodivergency, bisexuality, affinity for masculine clothes, desire for a chest binder, feminist values, dancing, and quick temper, a lot of the fundies reading this blog - though why they're even here, I have no idea - probably think I'm some kind of demon. They probably think everyone unlike them is a demon, out to destroy them and persecute them and take away their bullshit Christian freedom when really, we just want equality. That's prejudice on their part, and it's getting people killed. So we need to do something about it. The question is, what?

Why Straight People Shouldn't Say 'Homo', 'Queer', 'Fag', or 'Dyke'

Okay, you can read the title. It's been a problem at my school, and none of the straight kids seem to know why it bothers me.

Fag and its variations mostly seem to be said by straight cis men afraid of seeming gay or by anyone who doesn't think about what it really means and the nasty history behind the term, which even I am not fully educated about so I won't talk about it here. Not even gay men have fully reclaimed 'fag' yet. Straight people sure as heck don't get to use it.

As for dyke, I wouldn't mind being called that by another lesbian or BPQ woman, but anyone else...just no. It's like the n-word. If you're not black, you shouldn't say the n-word - I don't, because I know it was originally a horrifically oppressive slur invented by white people to empower white people. If you're not a queer woman, you shouldn't say dyke for the same reason. It was invented by straight people to empower straight people.

Nobody who says homo really seems to mean anything bad by it. They just use it as a synonym for gay, and the justification is "It's the prefix for homosexual." Yes, it is. And in theory, it shouldn't be shameful to be homosexual or non-monosexual. In actual practice, the word homo is used to shame people, particularly gay men or people perceived to be gay men - even if they're actually straight women who happen to have penises. If you're not part of a marginalized group, you don't get to decide which words used to refer to that group are derogatory.


Queer, for me, is a term of pride. It says that I'm different and that I do not have to be ashamed of that. I proudly refer to myself as queer and to other LGBTQ+ people as queer, and many of them do the same. However, it's taken thirty years to really make significant progress in reclaiming the word queer, and we're still not done yet. So straight, cisgender, dyadic people don't get to use it.

Figuring It All Out

I still feel weird talking about this during Advent, but it needs to be said. I need to figure out what religion I am.

Yes, I realize I don't need a label right now, but I like labels. They give me a sense of confirmation, a sense that the world makes sense if I have a term by which to identify, as ridiculous as even I know that sounds. If somebody else doesn't like them, I'll respect their choices, but that doesn't change what I want for my life. So I need to figure it out.

Gah, awkward phrasing. Moving on. I'm making the font smaller to make the post less lengthy.

So, here's what I believe on various things:

Sex: I'm very sex-positive, while also affirming asexuals and believing that asexuality should be more respected. I've never had sex and don't intend to any time soon - I want to put school first and don't have time for dating. But I hate, hate, hate slut-shaming and SWERF. The choice of whether or not to have sex should be a very personal thing, and that choice - made maturely and responsibly, with proper sex education backing up the decision - should be respected regardless of what it is. I also support sex work, believe that all people should have sexual autonomy, and that sexual autonomy should be respected. I'm very firm and inflexible on consent, and unless someone freely, enthusiastically, and maturely consents to sex, you don't ever even touch them in a sexual way, and the minute that consent is taken away, you back off. It doesn't matter if you were "just playing around" or some such BS. It doesn't matter if someone was drinking or had on a short dress or they're your romantic partner. Unless consent is freely, enthusiastically, and maturely given, you leave them alone - and if you don't, it's not their fault. It's yours, and you should suffer the same consequences as any other rapist.

Marriage: Everyone should have the right to get married and to have it be called marriage, but no one is entitled to get married if not everyone has that option. I also think that no one should be forced to get married and I don't agree with arranged marriage. Unless you're the one actually getting married, you don't get to decide who is getting married to whom. I believe in divorce; what good would forcing people who don't love each other to stay married do? I believe in polygamy, but not only that men should be allowed to have more than one wife. I believe that women should be allowed to have more than one husband, that women should be allowed to have more than one wife, that men should be allowed to have more than one husband, and so on and so forth (there needs to be a better gender-neutral word for 'spouse'). I believe that marriages should be equal partnerships and that there needs to be more centers for domestic abuse, whether or not that abuse takes place within a marriage. Celibacy isn't a bad thing, but no one should be made to feel like they have to be celibate (except for priests and nuns, but that's different - it's part of their job) or shamed for their personal choice of whether or not to be celibate. For myself, I see no real reason to get married but I believe that I should have the right to do so. What's the point, besides things like tax deductions? Being married doesn't make my love for my partner more valid, only legally recognized.

God: God is the Universe itself and the source of all life and love - God is love. God is completely gender-neutral, having no gender and at the same time all genders. They love everyone equally and infinitely and doesn't (I'm using the singular they here) discriminate based on religion, race, sexual orientation, gender, sex, body size, socioeconomic class, nationality, citizenship status, age, or disability but when someone senselessly harms another or feels threatened by what they don't understand, they distance themselves from God. I believe that God can be found in love and brought closer to humans through love, nature, sex, meditation, prayer, art, or friendship.

Homosexuality and Gender Diversity: Now, let's consider this for a moment...

The Afterlife: I believe in an afterlife. I believe in ghosts, and in angels. I do not believe in hell - not the fire-and-brimstone variety; that was purely Dantean and I'm not even sure why so many Christians believe in that. I do believe that if there is a hell, it's simply the absence of God. As for Heaven, Heaven is like pure light and pure love, engulfed in the love of the God who loves us so much more than we could ever comprehend but seeks to expand us and not limit us. I also think reincarnation exists and that it's completely possible to remember past lives.

As for figuring it all out, I'm currently researching religion to try to find something that I feel I can identify with. So far, Wicca seems promising, but I dislike the erasure of gender diversity that seems to be found in that.

Christian Supremacy and Me

I believe in God. I think Jesus is awesome. And today, when a random stranger on the street tried to 'save' me by handing me a booklet on the Gospel, I ripped that booklet up and threw it away.

Lately, I've really had my eyes opened to Christian supremacy. I mean, being bi, I've dealt with rude Christians who felt the need to 'help' me and didn't know when to back off or couldn't take the hint that I didn't want or need their twisted 'help'. And honestly, I used to be one of those Christians, though I never had a problem with gay people (and thank goodness, because otherwise realizing I was one would have been so much more horrifying to me). The way I acted wasn't cool, and I'm glad that I know that now so I can make amends for my actions.

My experiences, whether panic attack-inducing, like a Christian 'friend' harassing me on Facebook or simply annoying, like a girl I was paired up with for a school project on a Judaism-based novel acting like Christians are the only ones who understand what it means to be created for a higher purpose (and thereby dominating the conversation by talking about something that was irrelevant, inaccurate, and didn't pertain to the project), have been bad enough. But other people have had it worse. Sex workers, for example - what's so wrong with paid sex if it's consensual and safe? Not to mention everyone oppressed by the KKK, every woman who has died because she couldn't terminate the pregnancy endangering her life, all the people killed for being pagan or Jewish or disabled or queer, all the wives beaten because Christianity said they were to submit to their husbands, all the accused witches in the Salem witch trials, all the Muslims killed by Queen Isabella during the Moorish age, all the autistics mistaken for changelings and murdered during the Middle Ages, all the people cut off from their families for being different? How can someone do any of that and still claim they are acting out of love?

They can't - well, I guess they can but their argument is basically "But the Bible says so." And the fact that so many Christians still seem to think they are entitled to some kind of special deference after all of this is just sickening.

Not to mention, the reasoning. I mean, there's no way God wouldn't have been able to know that there would be other religions or people without religion, and if He had a problem with that He could easily force people to bend to His will. There's no way He/She/They/Xe (I see God as being pangender) would ever be like, "Just obey me unquestioningly, don't act on the sexual desires I gave you, don't get an abortion even if your life is in danger, always forgive someone no matter how badly they've hurt you, submit to your husband at all times, don't question authority even when the authority is being oppressive or unreasonable, don't fall in love if I created you gay or transition if I created you transgender, don't try to figure out the world that I created for you, and you'll be juuuuust fine." It makes no sense. There's also the fact that some people would legitimately have no idea about Christianity - so why would God send someone to hell for not being a Christian? If you look at history, there are no cultures that started out Christian - and the ones that became predominantly Christian had Christianity forced on them. When you think about it, most Christians (the conservative ones, at least) were raised Christian. Had they been raised Jewish, or Hindu, or Muslim, they would have been just as gung-ho about Judaism or Hinduism or Islam. A small child can't decide objectively for themselves what they believe, and they're going to trust what their parents and other authority figures tell them.

Am I a Christian? As I said at the beginning of the post, I believe in God and really admire Jesus - but I don't think Jesus is the only path to eternal paradise, whether you call it Nirvana or Heaven or the Summerlands or something else (I commonly use the term Heaven as it feels familiar to me, but I also like the pagan term 'Summerlands'). I agree, basically, with Christianity as Jesus intended it to be - love - but not with Christianity as people have allowed it and facilitated it to become. I am friends with Christians, most of you probably know that I was raised Christian, and I go to a Christian church and youth group (they know about my opinions on religion and there are several openly queer youth group members, so that hasn't been a problem yet). However, all things considered I can't theologically call myself a Christian.

 Do I hate Christians? Well, that depends on the Christian. I don't care what other people believe as long as their beliefs and the subsequent actions don't hurt anyone. However, if their beliefs do hurt people - and Christian beliefs often do and have for centuries - then I will fight back. Human rights are not up for debate, and I don't think God would ever intend for them to be. But, largely because of Christianity, they often are.

A Sort-of Random Poem

In my lit class, we wrote book spine poetry - that is, we took books out of the library and stacked them up so the titles formed lines of poetry.

Here's mine:

Ever after
Dreamland
The world we live in
Consumed
Behind the gates
Echo
Secrets of truth and beauty

Victory!

I won NaNoWriMo! 55,309 words!

Okay, the last three chapters were mainly the main characters swearing for several pages, but hey, that's what revision is for!

Also, the title is now Not Another Corny Road Trip Love Story, I changed Ani's name to Atea, and my English teacher is making me promise to make him a character (so I'm including this wizard guy who is like half him and half Dumbledore). It should be fascinating.

Other interesting notes: I am finding it hard to get used to using contractions again, not working on my novel in class (I usually get my homework done early, and since I'm pretty quiet, none of the teachers really care much what I do after that), and writing numbers as digits and not words again.

Also, I just want to say how proud I am of the other participants, especially a certain German blogger who goes by Betty and speaks amazing English. I know that this NaNo has been hard for her, because she based part of her novel on her relationship with her crappy ex-boyfriend, and I think she was very brave for pushing herself through that.

I made a survey

There are a lot of surveys for queer youth on Trevorspace, based on things like bullying and discrimination. So I made one of my own. Here is the survey.

Epilepsy Awareness Month

Well, the title says it all. I just found out today that that's what November is.

I'm not epileptic, but my dad was and my cousin is. And it's time more people like them were listened to, because they have a unique and amazing perspective that needs to be shared. So I'll be quiet right now, because it's time more people heard what people with epilepsy have to say.

Radical Neurodivergence Speaking

The Art of Living with Epilepsy

Epilepsy Warriors

My Epilepsy Story

Why the Fact that Rosie is a Sex Worker is Not Anti-Feminist or Anti-Christian

Hello all. I'm behind on my novel, due to procrastination, distraction, and my hectic life (though I made some beautiful magnets at youth retreat - one of them has a cross combined with a Star of David, symbolizing the Jewish roots of Christianity and the differences between faith and religion, and the other is Snow's face from The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod - green eyes, white teeth, red vampire fangs. I'll post pictures of them soon). BUT I have big news.

Well, first of all, my novel has undergone several title changes. It's been Vivir, What is Normal? and now Adventures of an Odd Couple in Love and Their Quest to Save the Multiverse. You can guess the plot.

Second, it's interracial, queer, interspecies romance - what else would you expect from me? Taylor is a lesbian, though her sexuality can be described better as 'I don't like penises' since her partner, Van, is nonbinary, afab, and asexual (Van uses ke/kir/kirself pronouns). That's the queer part. The interspecies part comes from Van being a dragon and Taylor being a werewolf, and the interracial aspect is from Van being Indian and Taylor being a mix of Russian and Dominican. So there's a lot of diversity and representation, and I'm happy about that. They even have a couple name - Vaylor, and I think they're perfect for each other.

And there's a new type of representation in this novel, one I've never tried before and one that some people I know would be absolutely scandalized to know I'm including.

Van's mother, Rosie, is a sex worker. She does professional phone sex, strips, and writes erotica, and it was she who passed on her love of writing to Van (Van writes fanfiction and roleplays). I see nothing wrong with this - Rosie is a mature, responsible adult who enjoys her job, and I've contacted a fellow Wrimo, Robyn, who is a stripper, so I could write Rosie more accurately. I've also started reading the wonderful sex-worker run blog, Tits and Sass, for research and fun. I feel excited about writing Rosie and her family.

BUT I know that not only will I garner shock from multiple relatives on all three sides of my family, and even anger or anger from some. I also know that I will be told that I'm not being a good feminist or a good Christian via my choice for this character's job.

What.

How is trying to dictate what a woman can and can not do with her body of her own free will a feminist action? How is slut-shaming a sign of being a good feminist? How is it feminism when women allow men to dictate what is feminine or whether a certain woman is worthy of respect? Feminism is the solidarity and empowerment of women - all women. It's not women being pitted against each other. It's not demonizing sex or sex workers. You shouldn't have to put others down to pull yourself up.

How is judging others a Christ-like action? Didn't Jesus dislike those who loved God but neglected or held contempt for His people? How is not standing up for the personhood of a marginalized group something that Jesus would ever agree with?

See, I believe that God and love are one and the same. And judgment - whether it's based on race, body type, sex, gender, sexual orientation, romantic orientation, neurotype, religion (or lack thereof), appearance, polyamory vs. monoamory, or style of dress - is not a loving or feminist action.

Some Jokes Aren't Funny

Black people are not monkeys. It's incredibly racist and wrong to say that they are or to compare them to monkeys. This is common sense, right?

Well, apparently some of the boys in my physics class don't have common sense. Or basic human decency, for that matter.

We were talking about what would happen if you shot a banana out of a cannon and how it might be possible for a monkey to catch it. And then we simulated it in real life, using a Beanie Babies monkey attached magnetically to the ceiling via a screw in its head, an electron wire, an air cannon, and a marble.

Our only problem was, somebody needed to be tall enough to actually reach the ceiling so they could attach the toy to the magnet. The two tallest people in the room were both boys, one white and one black.

And of course, this fact seemed to give the white boys in class an excuse to be racist turds (not all of them, but some) without consequence. You can guess what happened.

I hate when people are like this. What happened today sucked and should never, ever be allowed, but it did and it was. And, like the rest of the non-racist part of the class, I have no idea what to do about it. I've seen examples of prejudice, both systemic and in the form of "individual acts of meanness", at my school on a regular basis, but I've never known how to respond - even if the prejudice is  directed at a group that I'm part of.

And when the prejudice is directed at a group that I'm not part of, I'm frozen. So, because some jokes are really not funny, I want to do something about it. Any ideas? What would you have done?

Seriously? Why is She Torturing Us With This Random Poem when She Should be Noveling?

'Cause I feeeeeel like it, that's why. And I'm past 5K, so it's not like I don't have a little time to spare.



An Open Letter to Whoever Made This Meme

Obesity is a problem. Everyone knows that.
Yes, obesity is linked to type 2 diabetes, heart disease, angina.
Everyone knows that.

Obesity is ugly. Everyone knows that.
No. It's not true.
I used to be obese.
Just over a year ago, I weighed 196 pounds.
I was a five-six fifteen-year-old girl, struggling
Scared
Dealing with anxiety and personal problems,
Terrified of myself, convinced I wasn't good enough and was unworthy of love.
I thought I was ugly, and who better to encourage those thoughts
Than the cruel classmates who snickered behind my back,
The magazines which glorified society's crap idea of beauty,
The million ways the world laughed at my very existence.
How dare I strive for happiness, how dare I not be disgusted with myself?

Skinny
Does not equal beauty.
Skinny
Equals skinny.
Fat
Does not equal ugly.
Fat equals fat.
They are both just labels
Used to pit us against our beautiful brothers and sisters,
whether fat, skinny, or in-between.
We are beautiful.
 We are all beautiful, no matter how much we weigh.

That's why I tell fat people they are beautiful...
Because it's true.

Noveling Music Youtube Playlist

Here's mine for this year:

Stand By Me (John Lennon)

Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole

Do You Want to Hide a Body - Frozen Parody

Let it Go by Idina Menzel

I Won't Say I'm in Love - Hercules

Home by Phillip Phillips

Uprising of Love by Melissa Etheridge

Freak Flag - Shrek the Musical

NaNo has Arrived!

Well, it's that time of year again. November first, and twenty-nine days from now, I'll need to have a fifty-thousand word manuscript. So I should really be working on my novel...ahem...but I'm already almost at my daily word-count goal.

As it turns out, I won't be using any of my old plot bunnies this year. I'm writing a fanfiction about this British fantasy kids' show that I used to be obsessed with, but they never showed the second season in America (or, if they did, I never found out). The canon is called Wolfblood, and my fanfiction is Vivir. The basic premise is that a teenage girl whose family was attacked by beast hunters arrives in Stoneybridge with her mother to live with her estranged aunt, uncle, and cousins, and to join the pack. Also, she falls in love with one of the canon main character's friends...but don't worry, it won't be abusive (I'm looking at you, Twilight) or perfect or insta-love.

I'm having trouble learning to write in a British accent, as well as from the perspective of a (legally) blind person, but otherwise this is going really well. I got Lili to design me a cover (because I don't know how, and we're being civil), which features a photograph of Taylor, my OC - really a picture Lili found online and then Photoshopped - in wolf form. Since she has a glass eye, only one of her eyes changes color when she turns. The effect is so cool, and she looks so freaking cute as a wolf.

I'm going to a write-in today, in Ferndale. Wish me luck, and luck for all the other Wrimos. Happy noveling!

Well That Happened

If my classmates didn't know I was bisexual before, they do now. I couldn't have made it any clearer if I'd gotten on the PA system and said, "HELLO WORLD! I'M SEXUALLY ATTRACTED TO GIRLS!"

In my Twentieth Century Literature (affectionately and hereafter known as Lit) class, we've been doing oral speeches about the American Dream, and how our American Dream compares to our families' dreams and those of the main characters in the novels we've read. Since Jay Gatsby's dream was to find love with Daisy, I talked about my own dreams of love:

Yes, my version of the American Dream would contain love simply because I, like anyone else, want the privilege of being able to fall in love, get married, and have kids freely and equally to anyone else, without being told that that love is wrong regardless of the gender of my spouse. Right now, that dream is out of reach for so many people, and I dream that they will be recognized as equal. I dream that people will be respected and appreciated for who they are, that no one will be condemned for being different, and that love - whether interracial, romantic or queerplatonic, between people of the same gender or sex, or between three or more people - will be accepted as being purely, simply, beautifully love.

And now they knoooow...let it go, let it go...can't hold it back anymore...let it go, let it go, turn away and slam that door. I don't care what they're going to say. The cold never bothered me anyway. (There was a theory going around Trevorspace last summer that Elsa was a lesbian. 'Let It Go' does sound a lot like the thoughts of someone abruptly coming out of the closet.)

I didn't hear any mutters of "dyke" in the audience, so that's good. There were some people snickering after I was done with my speech, but really, we're teenagers. It's not like I wasn't expecting that. For all I know, they weren't even about me.

I do think I heard someone whisper, "She's gay?" But that doesn't bother me. There's nothing wrong with noticing someone's sexual orientation, any more than there's something wrong with noticing their race or disability or body size. It only becomes wrong when you judge them for it. And contrary to what some people think, gay is not an insult. So you know what? If people want to talk about my sexuality, that is just fine. (Not that I won't be just as neurotic and weird about this as I am about everything else.)

I did get a few points off, but not for the whole coming-out thing. The teacher's a cishet ally, and she already knew anyway. It's just because I went over the time limit - I just had a lot to say. Also, after the Big Queer Announcement, I panicked and started tripping over my words. It didn't exactly help that I had stage fright to begin with. And I didn't practice my speech beforehand - I think I knew that if I thought too much about the fact that I'd be declaring my sexual orientation to an entire class of potentially homophobic teenagers, I'd run out of the room screaming or puke or something when I had to do it for real.

I'd been worse earlier, though. Two hours before the speech, I started twitching uncontrollably. It was like my old panic attacks, but bigger. Yes, I know that I made a coming-out post that literally the entire Internet-using world has access to. But really, that was the Internet. Let's face it, nothing feels as personal when you put it on the Internet. If it did, we wouldn't have flame wars or online erotica.

This is real life. And in real life, I feel like that scared fifteen-year-old again, just admitting to myself that most straight girls didn't notice other girls the way I did and terrified of telling anyone that I was different (jeez, I'm like the female Nico di Angelo). Only now, I'm not just admitting to myself that I'm bisexual. I'm admitting it to an entire school of people that could ostracize, harass, bully, or proselytize me.

But here's the thing: I'm not that scared fifteen-year-old anymore. I'm not going to hide from the truth behind food and books. This has happened, and I'm going to handle it. If I do get hurt? Well, I still have God, and God is the only one who needs to define me. 

And just like Elsa, I don't care what they're going to say. The cold never bothered me anyway.

So, I'm Seventeen

Dang, I've been seventeen as of right now for approximately fourteen hours and ten minutes (because I was born at 8:22 a.m.) and still I can't get used to saying the words "I'm seventeen." I've actually said them out loud a few times now for practice. I do believe my mother is getting annoyed by this.

Every year when my birthday falls on a school day or a Sunday (because church), we have a party with both sides of my biological family (because with the stepfam present, there would never be enough food for all of the extensive Catholic ragtag bunch of assorted rednecks, vegetarians, hyperactive cousins, neurotic dogs, snarky cats, and other various oddballs who are all either somehow related to me or have declared themselves family) a few days or weeks or sometimes months before my actual birthday. This week we had it on Sunday evening at a pizza place called The Alibi.

 Mind you, American pizza will never measure up to the awesomeness of the real deal Italian kind, but unless it's meat I'm not one to turn down food and this place was pretty good. They had these breadsticks that were doughy but not too doughy, a little salty, and melted in your mouth so easily you didn't even need butter. On the pizza, the cheese was bubbly and oily but not overly greasy. I had tomato and green pepper pizza. The little green pepper chunks were cooked to perfection, so they burst when you bit into them. The tomato slices were so juicy on the inside and firm on the outside and just amazing. Oh, yeah, Italian Americans love us some food porn. You're all probably orally orgasming right now from my epic food porn. The Alibi should be grateful right now; I'm probably getting them so many customers.

There was some awkwardness what with the fact that I was sitting next to Ella - on our grandmother's advice - but she didn't say anything rude and neither did her sisters. I think they know I would have punched them or something if they had. Or something, most likely. I did enjoy seeing everyone else, though. Also presents and cake :)

On my actual birthday, I went to Bangkok Cuisine with my parents. America does have a track record of screwing up the foodstuffs of other cultures, especially racial minority cultures (my friend Jimena hates Taco Bell with a fiery passion), but if they did so with Bangkok Cuisine they did it pretty dang fabulously. I had a vegetable curry dish with eggplant, water chestnuts, broccoli, lettuce, baby corn, carrots, mushrooms, and rice. The sauce was this amazing stuff made of coconut milk and curry, and there was also this peanut topping which I instantly adored. Also, vegetable spring rolls, always a favorite of mine. I couldn't eat all of this, of course, so I'm having leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

I also went to Erebus for the first time. Those of you also from Michigan know that Erebus is the stuff of legends. It's this haunted house that's so scary that they actually keep track of how many people have run out screaming, wet themselves, puked, or fainted - and proudly display these numbers on an electronic board near the entrance. Since its opening, the (combined) number of fainters, pukers, and wetters has gotten disturbingly close to the thousands. But I write horror, and honestly what I was thinking most of the time was how much I respected the effort they put into scaring people. It startled me when something randomly made loud noises, because I couldn't see very well, and with my irrational fear of moving tunnels I of course got freaked out in that part, but other than that I was pretty chill. In every room, my mom told the haunted house workers it was my birthday, which was not nice. If you make it all the way through without losing your cool, they give you a free t-shirt. Of course, I now have a free t-shirt compliments of Erebus. It's black and says Erebus Experiment on it.

So, that was my initiation into the age of seventeen. Only one more year until legal adulthood!

This is harder than I thought...

I feel weird writing this post on my birthday, but I needed to vent.

About what, you ask? Evidently, my classmates have discovered - or they just suspect, I don't really advertise my sexual orientation at school, as it's none of their business - that I'm queer. I don't really know if this is just my own paranoia, of course, but I swear, whenever I hear anyone gossiping about a girl they think is a lesbian - like it matters - they all seem to be looking at me. This doesn't bother me, but they say the word lesbian like it's an insult and that pisses me off. (I think their suspicions are due to my vehement liberalism and the fact that I'm a vegetarian, because apparently all lesbians are vegetarian and I have to be gay to care about equality.)

Coming out was so freeing. Actually being out?

 Well, with the awesome people in my life, like my awesome queer friends and the cishet allies I've found among my family and other friends, I love it. With everybody else, though, it's either awkward because they're being all squeamish about bringing up the subject or it just sucks because they're ignorant.

I hate complaining. I mean, as a disabled, formerly fat female, it's not like I'd never known what it's like to face prejudice. But this really is so frustrating.

I would be a lot more willing to let them know (nicely) when they say something ignorant, if only they'd bother to actually ask questions. But they don't bother - like I used to before I realized I was one of the people I'd been stereotyping, most non-ally cishet teens around here would rather just come up with "theories" about queer people than try to educate themselves by actually ASKING us non-stupid questions (stupid questions are, for example: so do you have a penis or a vagina? Does butt sex hurt? How come you don't look gay? Do you have a small dick? You're dating a guy, do you only say you're bi to turn him on? So you're a hermaphrodite, then? Does pan mean you like orgies?) and when we call them out on this ignorance they don't listen. I'm sorry, are these people supposed to know more about my sexuality than I do?

It's also really annoying when a cishet person of another minority group uses heterosexist, dyadist, and cissexist slurs, randomly accuses a gay person (or someone they think is gay) of hitting on them, says things like "That's so gay", etc. Um, intersectionality much? It sucks when ANYONE marginalizes any minority group, but I hate it when minorities marginalize EACH OTHER. How can someone who themselves is oppressed honestly do the same thing to someone else?

Well, this rant was fun. Bye now.

A Shout-Out

It's Christina's sixteenth birthday! She is one of my best friends - actually, possibly my best friend now that Ella knows I like girls and is obviously not okay with that - and one of the best people I know. She's hilarious, down-to-earth, incredibly smart, never has a mean word for anyone, and today we're finally the same age (my seventeenth birthday is tomorrow. The fact that I was born the day after her, am a year older, and we're both juniors is a source of great amusement to us). Ordinarily, there would be cupcakes and a buttload of double-stuffed Oreos followed by a sugar-fueled giggle fest for us tonight but there's no youth group this week so I'm making this post for her - and our mutual obsession with TV shows about witty lesbians - instead.

So! It is Christina's birthday, as I've said. Read about her on the Cast of Characters page, or if that sounds too much like work, read about me babbling about how badass she is here.  Christina's awesomely blunt and is one of the few people I know who truly doesn't care what other people think but does care strongly about other people. We have the coolest conversations, ranging from urban slasher legends to whether or not Winnie the Pooh is transsexual to the pronunciation of the word orgy to potential love interests for Queen Elsa from Frozen. And it's weird but it not awkward because it's us. I swear, we could be the main characters from All or Nothing.

Beyond that, Christina's just really accepting, confident, and chill. I've never ever ever seen her get mad, she could make friends with a brick wall, and when I came out to her last June she was just like, Yeah, that's cool and moved on. Christina's basically the only friend I have that I would honestly feel totally comfortable talking with about female crushes, and the great thing about this is that she wouldn't freak out on me over that even though she herself isn't into girls. She's totally liberal, is in my experience one of the only American white girls who is totally comfortable talking about race without being a Tumblr Social Justice Warrior (despite her addiction to Tumblr), and is currently writing a liberal children's book entitled Differences are Good.

All in all, Christina is a fabulous person and friend and I hope that she has a very happy birthday.

And now for the witty lesbians - more specifically, Amy Raudenfeld. Amy, woman, you are such a boss and I wish you weren't a TV character because I kind of want to date you. Tonight I saw the episode of Faking It where all the hot Brazilian refugees come to Hester High. This brings two very interesting developments into my life as a rabid queer fangirl. One, Theo and Lauren just might be a thing soon. Scratch that, they'd better be a thing soon - Thauren is just too adorable to not be a thing. Also, Amy was attracted to a guy! Is she bisexual and homoromantic? Straight-up bi, like me? Something else? This rabid queer fangirl is going to stay tuned...

Resolving My Issues...Kind Of...

Those of you who know about the whole coming-out drama I've had with my family (i.e. Betty, we chat about family awkwardness on NaNoWriMo occasionally) or who've read my old blog already probably understand my neuroticism over the subject matter of this post.

But many of you don't know the full story. So, I'll bring you up to speed.

The summer when I was fifteen, Ella was sixteen, Abby was thirteen, and Lili was eleven, I discovered, much to my astonishment, that my dear cousins were against homosexuality. Just about two months later, I finally realized that straight girls didn't notice other girls the way I did. Awkward much?

Around the same time, I met a really awesome teen lesbian whose name shall not be mentioned because I'm not sure if she reads this. I'll call her Marie because that's her middle name. I was crushing really hard on Marie, harder than I'd ever crushed on a guy. Of course I wanted to ask her out (I haven't thus far).

But I knew how high school worked. I knew that even if I got up the nerve to ask Marie out, people would talk once they realized I was dating a girl. I also knew that there was a good chance that this talk would make its way to my cousin Alex, who went (and still goes, he's a senior and I'm a junior) to the same school as me. I figured that he might bring this up at a family function, not knowing why it would bother me (though he probably knows I'm bi at this point and simply doesn't care). Had that happened, Ella (my "best friend" at the time, though thank goodness I've put an end to THAT) would have known my secret within minutes. And the thought of her knowing terrified me. I was really shy back then and I was afraid of losing her friendship. But letting her opinion scare me into silence like that simply wasn't healthy.

I still wanted to ask Marie out. Which, in my mind, left only one option: come out to Ella first so she'd at least hear it from me. With all the related issues, I started having what I now  realize were panic attacks whenever I thought about coming out to her. Which led to panic attacks when I thought about coming out to anyone. Thankfully, after a few months I got sick of this and told Mrs. Avila, my beloved youth minister. With her support and a whole lot of prayer, I found the courage to come out to other people, to start this blog, and to stand up to my cousins. It's been a long, trying, but amazing journey. And not even two months ago, I finally had the nerve to end the unhealthy friendship I'd maintained with my cousins. We were all upset about it, but this was the best thing for all of us.

Then, I posted the poem I'd written the night I came out to Mrs. Avila. Two of my relatives commented on it: Ella's sister Abby and our grandma Fran (not the same grandma I mentioned in a post last summer. That grandma isn't entirely sure how the Internet works :) ). Grandma was awesome and wonderful and wonderfully awesome. Abby's response was harder to interpret. She said that, and I quote, "All the Micola's love you Bess!"

Is that supposed to make me less nervous? IT DOESN'T MAKE ME LESS NERVOUS!! My insides twist with anxiety every time I think about it, but I take some deep cleansing breaths and meditate to calm myself down. Things will be fine, I tell myself.

I'm right. Things WILL be fine. Yes, God will give me the strength to get through this. Yes, I know my fears might be totally irrational and I'm obsessing over nothing. Yes, I know that in the grand scheme of things, my obsession with this stupid little comment is practically nonexistent.

But that doesn't stop me from obsessing. Urggggggggggh. Can anyone help me dissect exactly what Abby meant?

NaNoWriMo is coming!

It's that time of year again. With only 23 days and five hours until NaNoWriMo, I need to pick a prompt. And one of my favorite fandoms is American Dragon: Jake Long. So, pick a plot bunny, any plot bunny, from this list I made over the summer. Or submit your own ideas. FYI, you've probably guessed that I'm into fantasy. And books about queer people. And fantasy books about queer people. :)

Vegetarian Awareness Month

For those of you who don't pay attention to that kind of thing, it's Vegetarian Awareness Month. And for those of you who aren't either a) Wrimos or b) someone I know in real life, I'm a vegetarian. So I decided to make a post for those of us who skip out on hunting season by including some recipes. Most of them will be links to cooking sites, but I'll also some things I came up with myself.

Farmers' Market Chowder
Apple Sauerkraut Salad
Obazda Cheese Spread
Indian Mixed Grill
Feta Tortilla
Three Sisters Casserole
Vegetable Rice
Curry-kuri Squash Soup

Apple Basil Sandwich

Ingredients:
1 bagel or roll, sliced in half the long way
1/2 your favorite flavor apple (I use Fuji, Johnagold, or Granny Smith), sliced thinly
A mixture of fresh spinach and basil leaves
2 tbs. of Italian dressing
1 1/2 Tbs. cream cheese, vegetable or plain
1 slice of your favorite cheese (if desired)

Instructions:
1. Spread cream cheese on each half of bagel/roll and sprinkle Italian dressing on cream cheese (I've heard that most countries don't use salad dressing like Americans do. If you live in one of those countries, you can substitute balsamic vinaigrette or olive oil with spices)
2. Place one-half of the mixed greens on top of cream cheese and salad dressing. On top of this, add 1 slice of cheese if using.
3. Add 1 half of the apple slices on top of this
4. Add the other half of the mixed greens on top of the apples. On top of this, add the other half of the apple slices.
5. Place other half of bagel/roll on top

Serves 1
suggestion: I personally think avocado or sliced carrots, or both, would go really well with this sandwich, though I've never tried it that way.


My dietary staples:
*Spinach
Good for: smoothies, salads, soups, scrambled in eggs, soufflés
*Pureed pumpkin
Good for: crepes, smoothies, soups, soufflés
*Soybeans
Good for: soups, stir fry, dried and eaten as a snack
*Apples
Good for: juice, smoothies, sandwiches, salads, soups (I've never tried it this way but it sounds great)

Strange but delicious:
1. Apple, cheese, and veggie sandwiches. Apples just taste good with almost anything, but apple and cheese is definitely a winning combination
2. Spinach smoothies. I've been drinking these a lot lately, usually prepared ahead of time and drank the next morning for breakfast. The best combination I've made so far is peach, pineapple, and  spinach, but feel free to experiment. I'm also a big fan of Bolthouse brand Green Goodness smoothies, and pretty much anything else from Bolthouse.
3. Broccoli, soybean, and pineapple stir fry. This is my favorite thing to eat at BD's Mongolian Barbecue, my favorite restaurant (it's a stir fry buffet, you can combine anything you want and they cook it for you while you watch). I vary the ingredients, but broccoli, soybeans, and pineapple are always in there. Some good things to add are peapods, baby corn, bean sprouts, crushed nuts, and noodles. I recommend a sweet and tangy sauce if you decide to make this.

Okay, that's it. Happy Vegetarian Awareness Month!

Coming Out Poem

The day I first came out to someone (Mrs. Avila, you can read about her on the Cast of Characters page), I was so thrilled and relieved that I wrote a poem about it. And now that I'm out to quite literally everyone, I figure it's time I shared it.

Day of Silence is coming
and already I am mute.
For months I have been silent
I have been scared,
desperate, a liar.

I blew my chance with an amazing girl,
Because she didn't know I was bi.
But I promised myself
I would come out to someone
And tonight I've finally found my courage;
I've finally found someone I can trust
My youth minister, the woman who
Has been more like a mother to me
Than my own mom.

I walk up and force out the words,
And she just hugs me and says it's okay
Not that it's a choice
Not that I'm going to hell
Not that I need to be cured.

It's my first time coming out
And I've never been more terrified
Even though I knew she would accept me
Because DNA doesn't make a family,
Love does.
And families stick together no matter what.

So I just wanted to say
No matter how scared you are,
It does get better.
I found my courage and faced my fears
I don't have to be straight to be loved
God made me bisexual
And that is something to be proud of

The Day of Silence is coming up
And I'm speaking out -
Finally, I'm not silent anymore
--------

And yes, I wrote it two days before Day of Silence. I'd promised myself I'd come out to someone,  in solidarity,  and I trust her more than pretty much anyone else in the world. So I told her.

Yet Another Random Poem

An Open Letter to Conservative Christians

Dear Conservative Christians:
Not everyone is like you.
Not everyone identifies as Christian.
And for those that do -
I'm a Christian too
And I know that shaming was never part of Jesus' mission

Dear Conservative Christians:
Love is love
And it's not always between a man and a woman
So why should we have to prove that our love is real?
Why should our sexuality even be any of your business?
Why do you assume it's a choice? It's not.
 I'm so sure of this, I dare you to try it for a year
Because this is what you need to hear:
Shaming was never part of Jesus' mission

Dear Conservative Christians:
What exactly is a man's garment? What exactly is a woman's garment?
Clothing doesn't have genitals.
Does it offend you, to see someone 'changing' their gender?
They're just trying to feel more comfortable in their own skin.
I'm not trying to shock you, just trying to explain
Because your attempts to 'fix' people are only causing them pain
It's shaming, and shaming was never part of Jesus' mission

Dear Conservative Christians:
Yes, privilege exists.
It's simply invisible to you because you benefit from it.
When people's rights and feelings are ignored
Because the truth makes you uncomfortable
That's not okay. You don't need to apologize for who you are
But the fact is, you have so many advantages that others
Will never enjoy. So how about instead of expecting people
To conform to your beliefs and expectations
Be an ally for those who haven't enjoyed your privileges and help improve this nation
Because when you don't, you ignore that shaming, and shaming was never part of Jesus' mission

Dear Conservative Christians:
You may think I sound hypocritical
Like I'm imposing my views on you
But I'm only trying to help humanity rise above
The shaming which must give way to love
And love will always be Jesus' mission

Transgender Teenager Threatened - Please HELP!!

While on Facebook tonight, hanging out in an LGBT group, it was brought to my attention that one of the group members, Angela DeFino (born Cody DeFino) is in danger. Some bullies from her school have been harassing her because of her gender identity.

One of them threw an apple at her head and called her a "fucking faggot ass bitch" and, according to Angela, they've threatened to do worse. She had been considering simply fighting them, but I pointed out why that would be unwise and suggested she tell the press.

At first, many people thought Angela should just tell her school or the police, but the school can't do anything because no teachers saw these boys harassing her and therefore can't punish them. And the school police liasons haven't supported her - she's seen them pointing and laughing.

But the internet is a powerful tool, and I've offered to use it to help her. That's why I'm dedicating this post to her and trying to spread the word. If the police and her school won't help, I will.

Here is a picture of Angela, copied and pasted from her Facebook page. I've asked her for any information we can use against these bullies, but she has yet to reply. Until then, please just spread the word and do anything you can to help.

Because FABULOUS, darling!

Everybody has a favorite fandom, a 'cult favorite' if you will. My literature teacher's, for example, is The Great Gatsby. Which is cool for those of us who like to scream at the characters' ridiculousness, but I found a book that I can relate to so much better, with a main character whom I genuinely admire. Rather typically of me, I suppose, my cult favorite is about a gay kid.

This fabulous book is called Freak Show, by James St. James (the author himself a drag queen). It's relatively obscure but undeniably beautiful, and it's about a seventeen-year-old, fabulously badass "drag queen-in training" named Billy Bloom. Billy's mom kicks him out when she finds him wearing her clothes, forcing him to move in with his macho man dad in a ridiculously redneck, Republican town in the south of Florida. He goes to this school there where apparently NOBODY HAS SEEN A GAY PERSON BEFORE. It's so stupid, the way they all treat him. The way the straight guys, particularly the jocks, react is atrocious of course, but much of their torture isn't anything the average American queer teen hasn't seen before (I'm not saying all cishet male jocks are like this, so don't get your panties in a bunch. But a mysteriously high number of them are. I suspect the homophobic ones have taken a few too many knocks to the head in those tackles of theirs; however, we shan't quibble when there's writing to be done). Except for this one part where Billy gets...ah, how do I put this delicately...beaten up (understatement of the century), they are merely immature cretins who get away with their bullying behavior because no teacher wants to punish the football players. Can't have those Manatees lose the game, now can we?

The girls in the story, except for Billy's amazing fag hag Mary Jane, are vicious. One of them had the nerve to ask Billy, after approximately five seconds of knowing him, if he "eats poo." Really, how juvenile can anyone get? The cheerleaders frequently mob and torment Billy, asking him disgustingly rude and personal questions based on imbecilic stereotypes about gay men. Especially at these scenes, I was honestly sad that I couldn't physically enter Billy's world. I was a little tempted to flirt with those cheerleaders and freak them out, just so they'd shut up. Hey, those of us who ride the rainbow have to stick together.

Thankfully, not every heterosexual in the tale of our bedazzled hero is as despicable. The aforementioned Mary Jane is pretty cool. She's one of exactly two students who is willing to befriend Billy. She lets other people dictate a little too much of her life at first, imho, but her school is brutal and she knows it. Who could blame her? I've been guilty of the same thing at times, so I certainly have no place to judge. Meanwhile, there's Flossie, the Blooms' housekeeper. With Billy's mother out of the picture, Flossie acts as his mother figure and sardonic sidekick, cheering him on and protecting him from behind the scenes. The last somewhat decent cishet character is Billy's dad. At first, Mr. Bloom just seems like a typical Republican father who disapproves of his flamboyantly gay son, but when Billy is hurt, he really comes through for him. Even if he doesn't approve of homosexuality, he puts those feelings aside and supports his son.

The last character to be mentioned here is Flip Kelly. Flip is pretty much the only football player with an actually cool personality. He's the one who rescues Billy when he's attacked and comes to visit him in the hospital every day when he's comatose, which is absolutely adorable and has completely turned me into a Blippy shipper. When Billy gets out of the hospital, they become best friends. It's the sweetest thing ever, darling.

In short, Freak Show is a wonderfully fabulous novel with a fun, brave protagonist who overcomes every obstacle presented to him in style and is a fantastic role model for gay kids everywhere. Oh, darling, you absolutely must read it!

Setting the Record Straight...Sort Of

Last month, I wrote this post, and considering my belief in letting your freak flag fly and being yourself, I feel like rather a hypocrite for writing it.

I was scared, honestly. There are some people reading this whom I know disapprove of my sexuality...and, honestly, they can just shut up. I am who I am. And who I am is neither straight nor gay. I'm bisexual.

And, well, now the record is set straight...sort of. I'm officially coming out now, and pretty soon the poop shall hit the fan. But God will get me through it.

Why Does a School Project Need to be Gendered?

 I get that from the perspective of many - not all, but many - of the more privileged people in the world, they don't need to learn about sexual and gender diversity, or any other kind of diversity for that matter. After all, much of it doesn't apply to them personally, right? But when someone like that does or says something ignorant or forgets to check their privilege - and I'll admit I've been guilty of this on occasion, but I'm trying to stop that - it's really annoying.

Here's an example. In my economics class, we're working on group projects in which we have to create an imaginary product, make a logo for it, and write a one-page paper about how and why it works. My group is making a scent patch for athletes to cover up their B.O. after games and practices (it works like a nicotine patch; you put it on your skin and it puts something in your body to make your sweat smell good. We're calling it the Buddy Body Patch). 

With everything else done, we needed to work on the logo. Our design was on a big piece of poster paper, with five circles showing the different patch 'flavors': lavender, berry, bonfire, after-game, and the ocean. Lavender and berry were on one side, bonfire and after-game on the other, ocean in the middle. The lavender and berry side was labeled 'her scents' and the bonfire and after-game were 'his scents.' (Until the side-labeling started, I had merely watched the drawing of the poster. I'd already done my part as group secretary, and I'm not exactly the world's greatest artist.)

I didn't really take this personally or get angry about it, the way I did when a guy in science class was ignorant about asexuality, but it did bother me.

"Some guys like wearing lavender and berry," I protested mildly, simply not seeing the point in gendering sides of a poster. Even with the ocean in the middle and labeled as 'his and hers,' it just seemed a bit  much. Since getting into LGBTQ+ activism, I'd noticed more and more about how society was geared toward those considered 'normal,' and it irritated me every time I saw an example of that.

"Yeah, guys who like guys," the girl doing the labeling chuckled with a derisive snort.

"Not always," I tried to explain, but the conversation had already moved on.

I want to hear your thoughts on this. Ideas, anyone?

The Stars are Fading

The serialized story blog is up! I have five characters shown in a character chart - Lena, Jesus (pronounced hay-soos, like on The Fosters), Cam, Gillian, and Adrian, in that order. I'll start up the actual story the minute I have time, but I'm in North Carolina at the moment for a family function, and I'm going back to Michigan on Labor Day (and after that, I'm starting my junior year). I haven't seen any relatives yet - most of them are staying at other hotels, so I'm going to just walk around for the moment. It's really pretty down here (hot, yet pretty...that sounded vaguely dirty...) so I don't want to miss anything. I'll try to keep you guys updated, but no promises.

Link to The Stars are Fading

Serialized Story

I was reading this book, Goth Girl Rising, where the main character's love interest was a comic book writer who serialized his work. I thought it was really interesting, and even though I don't draw, I've decided to do the same. So, even though I'm still keeping up We are the Rainbow, I'm starting a new blog for a serialized thing that I'm working on. I haven't decided what it's called, though.

It seems like a really fun idea, and hopefully it'll get a publisher to take notice of me. Wish me luck.

Is She Gay or Not?

Two posts ago, a reader asked (indirectly) if I was gay. And doubtlessly, many other readers - besides the few already know what my sexuality is - have wondered but haven't asked. So I figured I should address the issue.

First of all, my sexual orientation does not affect my advocacy. I would support equality no matter what. Second, if I were gay, it would not affect my faith in God. Third, if I were gay, coming out so widely and rashly would likely have uncontrollable fallout in other aspects of my life. Fourth, my sexuality is none of your business unless I choose to share it.

That's why I'm stating right now that until further notice, I'm choosing not to leave my sexuality ambiguous. Who I'm attracted to is my business and shouldn't affect how I'm treated.

Just wanted to let you know, everyone. Have a nice rest-of-the-summer!

THANK YOU!!!!!!!

I was looking at my blog statistics just now to check how many views I've gotten today. The number? One hundred fourteen views. That's the highest number of views I've gotten in one day since I started We are the Rainbow. And my views of all time? Eight hundred sixty-six in two months, with readers from ten different countries. It's all kind of amazing; when I started, I never dreamed I'd be so successful.

For years, it's been my dream to change the world through writing. But I can't do that without you wonderful people, my amazing readers, and of course God - my eternal best friend and the motivation behind much of my writing. So thank you, thank you, thank you, everyone who's read this blog and spread the word to others. And thank you, God, for giving me the inspiration to write this.

Well, that's all I wanted to say. Thanks again, everyone!

Frustrated with Prejudiced Former Friends

So. I'm not going to name names here, and that is why we're going to call the two girls mentioned in this post 'Daisy' and 'Rissa.'

Until recently, Rissa had been my best friend. We'd known each other since before we were even born. When I was two and she was three, her family came to visit mine (then living out of state). And I, being the most awkward toddler ever, would barely talk to her. But she pried me out of my shell, and for the next fourteen years she was like the sister I never had.

Rissa has a younger sister named Daisy, about four years younger than her. Daisy, for much of my friendship with Rissa, was just my friend's annoying kid sister whom I had to put up with. But as she got older, Daisy became our friend too, and as close to me as her sister was.

The problem? They were homophobic and transphobic, and for obvious reasons I'm not cool with that. And their prejudice really hurt me, though every time I consider telling them the exact reasons why, I freeze up and panic.

Taking the advice of another girl who'd been similarly burned, I decided to simply cut off my friendship with them. And I tried. I don't hate Rissa and Daisy; I love them as sisters in Christ, but I really don't like them and the way they're acting right now. But I didn't remove them from my Facebook friends list, because that seemed rather petty. So when I posted a message on my page protesting the transphobia of reality star Michelle Duggars, they saw it and responded negatively.

I won't go into the whole argument, but eventually Daisy messaged me with all the Bible verses that fundamentalist Christians interpret as condemning homosexuality and transgenderism (they don't condemn either, actually; they condemn shrine prostitution, rape, hostility to strangers, and lack of hospitality but I'll go into that later with the help of some friends and family who have studied the Bible much more extensively than I and can explain much more efficiently.) and I told her to shut up unless she had something positive to say, and that her sister could do the same. At which point she replied with a series of 'I love yous.' But those are just words, and honestly I'm not convinced she means them.

 I told her honestly that I love her too, but explained also explained my other feelings on our whole awkward, hurtful situation. Thus far, she hasn't responded.

The whole thing is just so frustrating. I want our old friendship back and I'm sick of this drama, but I'm not going to put up with their prejudice (especially when it's directed at several of my other friends, who have supported and loved me through this mess and have helped me pull myself back together again) and I'm not going to back down from my advocacy for the LGBTQIAA+ community. I also know that right now, being friends with either one will only get me hurt. As I wrote in Sunshine, it's my choice whether to let these destructive people into my life or not, and right now I choose not to.

But...fourteen years is a long time. I literally can't remember a time when Rissa and Daisy weren't a part of my life in some way. They really are like my sisters, and it hurts to cut off two people so close to me. Any thoughts?

Another Random Poem

A guy we'll call Rick once asked about his troubles letting go of his anger and heartbreak toward his sociopathic ex-boyfriend. I gave him some advice about what I do when I get my heart broken: live. Do the things that make you happy! But I think Rick is really depressed about this guy (which makes me want to track the jerk down and cut his balls off), so I thought about what else I do: pray.

God has always given me strength when I felt weak, hope when I thought all hope was lost, love when I needed it most. He has given me strength to conquer the most difficult challenges I've ever encountered and sometimes even been the only reason I've had to strive. He is the best thing in my life.

I was going to say that, but there's one problem: Rick is an atheist. So instead, I reached deep inside and thought about how else I could communicate the power of love that is the Holy Spirit in each of us, the power that can perform miracles and give eternal hope. I could have said that the hurt of this earthly life will feel like nothing when we are faced with eternity, an eternity of love and light, the most perfect and all-consuming to ever exist. Because then? Then, all our time on Earth will just feel like a flash, and the bad times will seem like nothing. Eternity can really give you perspective. I could have said that even though human beings can be vicious and cruel, at least we know that there is one Person who loves us enough to bring about our very existence, die for us, and forgive us when we don't deserve it.

What did I actually say? I'll portray it in this poem (not the exact words I used).


 Sunshine
I've been hurt, broken, crushed. I've loved and lost and had my heart shattered by those who didn't deserve my love in the first place. My world has been stormy, and I've lost my sunshine.

No, I haven't. I've been damaged, but not beyond repair. I've been hurt, but not killed. My world has been stormy, but I've never lost my sunshine.

It is our choice and our choice alone to allow destructive people into our lives. My life is too valuable to waste on those who don't deserve it, and so I surround myself with love and become renewed with strength in that my sunshine may spread.

There is always tomorrow and things are never as bleak as they seem. And in reminding myself of this, I became renewed with strength. Although the world may be stormy, there is a little sunshine in every situation.

In the sunshine, I forgave. I let it go, because anger and bitterness would only darken my soul. What's the point of holding a grudge when we can set it all - including ourselves - free?

I've been hurt, but I clothed my spirit in sunshine...and learned to dance in the rain.





Hope you liked it.

The Legion of Sprelves and Mervamps!

Last night when I couldn't sleep, I was chatting online with this girl named Estella. In this one part of the site, a bunch of guys had this thread going where they were all pretending to be really gangsta and deliberately misspelling every word they typed. At which point Estella joined the thread and replied in the most epic way possible: And then comes in some random chick with a dictionary who beats the he** out of everybody with it. Which made me laugh, and somehow led to us discussing whether we'd want to be aliens or magical creatures, and what kind of magical creatures we would be. I said sprelf, half-sprite and half-elf. She said mervamp, half-mermaid and half-vampire.

So it was quite late and this point and I think we'd both reached that giddy, hyper stage of utter exhaustion in which one is extremely tired yet also extremely euphoric, because we soon started joking about taking over the world with a legion of sprelves and mervamps, and I decided to make a blog post about it.

So! Here is...

             The Manifesto of the LSM

• Letting one's freak flag fly is encouraged. In fact, it is required. Freak power!
• Getting sugar highs and randomly laughing at nothing, as if possessed or on helium, shall be a common occurrence.
• Fangirling (or Fanboying) is healthy and shall be held in high esteem.
• Yes, we are indeed aliens. And that is a good thing.
• Geeks are powerful badasses who shall be given medals of honor.

THE LEGION SHALL RISE IN ALL ITS FREAKY GLORY! JOIN US, MINIONS, AND REVEL IN OUR EPIC FREAKINESS!

Hope this made you smile.