“We need any support we can get, no matter if it’s from our parents, friends, or the school.”
We call each other family because so many of us are blacklisted by our own families, so we find our kin in the LGBTQ community. My mind was blown, my heart broke open and I found my people.
And since millennials and generation X are two of the most open and fluid demographics, it’s important these topics aren’t cis- and heteronormative.
People pouring into the streets, crying publicly at award shows and TV interviews, showed me that I didn’t need to cry in the closet or the bathroom. That there was nothing to be ashamed of.
When the decision to have children occurs in a Black family, thoughts of loss and death at the hands of the state often pervade their reality.
Nia Green is a 16-year-old girl whose mother beat her after finding pictures on Facebook of the teen and her boyfriend wearing only towels. The beating was livestreamed to Facebook and went viral. This is an open letter dedicated to her, from one Black girl to another.
I really want to know what to expect, what to anticipate, and perhaps, even, what not to do as I age and grow in relationships so that I, too, can have a fulfilling and healthy partnership.
In the last six months, five of my friends’ moms have died. My mom is 63, healthy and here, but her capacity for intimacy is incompatible with my desire to be nurtured.
We are forced to make decisions about our families, often not always based on our hopes and visions for the future, but on the money in our pocket and whether we have access to competent healthcare. But what if we could change that?
Queer and trans folks have been making babies for a long time, and it’s rarely ever easy. Even when we create biological children, we have to fight to be recognized as their parents.