Stories about: gender
By virtue of experiencing genital trauma at the hands of surgeons, I cannot help but feel aligned with the intersex community.
With T4T: A Transgender Showcase, for once we’re not coming together to defend our humanity, we’re coming together to celebrate it.
Reading literature can help us tend to ourselves as if we were a sapling. Emerging into a non-binary self is like reaching for sunlight.
It appears the only way society has allowed femme rage is when it is displayed by white, conventionally attractive women, and portrayed through the aestheticised lens of film.
I write like all the sex I’ve had is happening now. This is the anatomy of a trans sex scene: ‘now’ is never just now.
It’s like we are refugees in our own country, on our own land. Hunted by coppers and racists alike, we remember how our ancestors must have felt as we live through it.
I grew up as two things: a closeted queer and a closeted Justin Bieber fan. Just like any other girl in my year seven English class, I was writing ‘JB’ over and over again in my notebooks with big love hearts. I couldn’t care less if Justin Bieber had a girlfriend, or if the paparazzi …
At every point, my gender, disabilities and material circumstances put me into situations where I was at constant risk of violence and abuse.
Uboa and Liturgy’s music acknowledges the trans rage of disempowerment, and how unleashing that rage can create a sense of self-affirmation.
The heart of this story is a karaoke booth in LA’s Koreatown where four queer Arabs are belting Queen at the top of our lungs.
For so long, I perceived my femininity as something that made me visible or vulnerable, but in the pages of Dress Rehearsals, I was inspired to create a place where those feelings could coexist beside joy and euphoria.
How can the mind transcend madness when it’s confined and magnified within these walls?
When the email arrived to tell me my artificial intelligence images were ready, I wasn’t expecting to feel like I’d been punched in the guts as I clicked through.
The “bury your gays” trope is a real one to combat, but They/Them doesn’t even fully engage with the potential horror of the setting.
From the very beginning, The Dreamlife of Georgie Stone offers warmly murmured answers to all the whataboutisms that pepper discourse around trans children.
I have been thrown in jail multiple times simply for existing in public. I’ve become wiser and stronger because of my traumas.
A one-size-fits-all approach to hormonal birth control is almost guaranteed to cause unintended harm, but we’re told that it’s unavoidable.
Unlike our younger counterparts, this representation isn’t reflecting our growth, it’s reminding us of how much growing we had to do alone.
I draw parallels between being agnostic and agender: both are non-binary. I feel my agnosticism is my non-binary nature manifest spiritually.
I think of how my sister and I have nothing shared but suffering – a suffering so fragile and cumbersome it is akin to an antique vase.
My characters are genderless, stunning creatures. They are not afraid to talk about what really needs to be talked about.
It became apparent why the way women’s sport is participated in and played resonates so deeply with me: it is so critically important.