Suddenly, a label I’d fought long and hard to embrace just didn’t feel right anymore.
In this space, BIPOC were seen and celebrated. I had never experienced that in a purportedly sex-positive space before, and it felt like a homecoming.
I swear, I’m really not much of an exhibitionist. But a certain Social Sex Revolution compelled me to change my tune.
Romance: it’s one of those ideas that’s culturally omnipresent, but is actually pretty nebulous once you try to pin it down.
I’ve actually always loved my skin color. I love its layered richness, its opacity, its resilience to the sun.
It’s June. I miss when that used to mean the end of schoolwork and the beginning of beach trips. Now, I feel the need to brace for impact: Pride is here. Or as I tend to think of it, the Month of Queer Gatekeeping.
Like with sex, my spirituality is something I physically experience.
My body has never felt like it totally belonged to me.