“When I first began exploring options and exploring the possibility of transitioning, it was Tumblr and Youtube that provided those resources and provided those perspectives…When I could not afford my first vial of testosterone, it was Tumblr that came together to raise the money for me to get it. Tumblr and Youtube have been the best at helping me improve my body image. It has been Tumblr and Youtube that comforted me when my life has been in these shambles of chaos. So it is not just what I can do for Tumblr. It is what Tumblr and Youtube have done for me. It is always been a space that has been there…” —The (Shaan)anigans
Tumblr + Youtube + a Post-Transition Return [closed captioned]
Being around women as they talk, in detail, about their sex lives is an amusing privilege for a queer man such as myself. I love being around women who are so in touch with their sexuality and freely discuss their interests and activities among each other (and myself) with little to no fear of judgement. They cover everything from details of their last sexcapade to the time they introduced millions of potential children to their esophagus. I admire their honesty and sisterhood.
I feel much more comfortable being around women discussing sex than men doing the same. Perhaps because men tend to discuss sex in violent, misogynistic ways. And that’s just gross. In addition, I can’t relate to the way many men—homo or hetero—have sex—physically, mentally, or emotionally.
It’s funny when women begin discussing female genital piercings and you—someone perceived as a cis-male—are able to join the conversation with ease because, well…you just can.
I used to be so active here. Now I come on, scroll down, and leave. I feel like I’ve left a lot of people hanging and I apologize for that. I suppose I’ve just said all that can be said? Or, Twitter has become my new place to vent and I’m working on building my “brand” (as a writer) via Wordpress.
I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for Tumblr, though. Still, it’s not what it used to be. My dashboard isn’t even the same yet I follow the same people. Where did everyone go? I hope they’re all alright. We had good times on here. We had connections. I used to know life stories, now I can barely remember names.
Sigh. Guess it happens. I’m around, though, in case anyone was wondering. Maybe once my life picks up a little more I’ll find a new need to post regular updates here. Until then, I’ll just be in the shadows.
How are you?
Wondering how I achieved this super glamorous look? Sit on buses for a total of 17 hours, get lost in downtown Cleveland because of detours caused by the filming of the new Captain America/Avengers movie, almost miss an appointment for a surgery, have said surgery under local anesthesia so you can watch it, skip getting painkillers, almost miss one of three buses to get back home, walk through the pouring rain accompanied by lightning and thunder, then meet a dandy girl on the final stretch. Then, and only then, can you too look this divine. And by divine, I mean crappy. But at least your areolas will be the same size! Hello, summer nipple piercings…
A’yo you…you right there with more love to give than the world will accept! You are pro-consent, so start acting like it.
Consent is not a term reserved for sexual activity or that thing police are supposed to have before raiding Brown bodies (but seldom do). Consent is a term rooted in respect for the world around you. Respecting others as equals means asking permission. Healthy relationships of any nature require consent.
With this in mind, let us discuss the passion…
‘The Beloved Community That Mugged Me’
One week ago, almost to the minute, I was mugged. (I’m fine. Life happens.) What stands out the most about the incident is not my newfound inconvenience of being phoneless; it was that I was mugged by people who looked like me. Yes, this Black boi was jumped and robbed by Black boys.
It’s ironic, really.
I recently engaged in a discussion about the way people have been socialized to fear groups of men—specifically those who are Black and Brown—despite sometimes being of a similar identity. Following that conversation, I promised to make a conscious effort to do away with that irrational discomfort. In practicing this, I found that Black men are generally quite friendly. Say ‘hello’ to them and they will say ‘hello’ (or ‘sup,’ ‘what’s good,’ etcetera) to you. Slowly but surely, I worked on dissolving internalized prejudices and crossing paths with Black men caused less and less discomfort.
Black youth, however, were a completely different case…
- Self, excerpt from an article in the making