I couldn't tell you if my favorite part of her is her deep, chocolate brown honey caramel eyes or if it's the way she talks to me like I'm the only person in the room or if it's the way her freckles dapple across her skin or the warmth in every fiber of her being. I couldn't say if I love more the way her hand totally envelops mine or that she's taller than me or that she screeches metal songs in the middle of the night or that she's a professional dominatrix.
Every single Drag Queen has an opinion, and every one of them (probably) believes that you should pay attention to what they have to say. Let's face it, most of them are (likely) right. For a long time, Drag Queens have had political, artistic, and social platforms within the LGBT+ community. As the faces of some of the most significant Queer events worldwide, it is essential for queens, and all drag performers, to use their platforms for good (also known as the Gay Agenda). With that being said, Drag has exploded as an artistic outlet for queer folks around the globe. So, why in the name of all that is good, should you be listening to me, Soña Rita, a drag queen not known for much in the middle of Weld County, Colorado? I honestly have a straightforward answer for you. Still, because I am also (again, probably) the MOST dramatic drag queen to ever walk the hallways of Weld Central High School, I can not in good conscience do that. I have to draw this out. It's what Nathaniel Hawthorne would have wanted.
Every little girls fantasizes about her dream wedding. Getting to dress up like a princess, looking beautiful, being adored by her friends and family. Every little detail being as perfect as possible. Most importantly, she gets to share the day with the love of her life. That special someone that sees past all of her flaws, looks past everything and sees who she truly is on the inside. Every little girl wants to grow up and be loved by her person, her soulmate. I mean that’s all that anyone wants, right? Everyone wants to be loved for who they are on the inside and out. The only problem is that finding that special someone is more difficult for some than others.
If I get told to think about a man while I dance one more time I’m gonna snap. I’ve been doing this for 19 years, and in that time, I’ve had dances about flirting with men, breaking up with men, chasing after men, shaping up because I needed a man, being in love with men, men, men, men, so many dances about men. 19 years and you know how many men have been on my dance teams? One. Just the one. It’s amazing how much men can be involved when they aren’t in the room half the time.
As a woman whom is bisexual I feel split into two. I feel and see myself as this woman because my genitals tell me so. I’ll look into the mirror at my make up tucked away in it’s pouch and think “I need that.” I need artificial color to confirm my gender. I recently just learned that clothes , hair, make up and so forth possess no gender. That was made clear when my five year old son asked to dress up with my unopened lipstick and high heels. How he told me he loved the way the make up brush swept over his skin like a little broom. He put on one of shirts and my heels. He walked around the apartment as he listened to music. It was in that moment that even though his genitals were identified as boy he was acting nothing short than a girl. I thought what if? What if my son is into men? What if he’s into women with a feminine touch? What if he’s actually a she? What if he’s into anyone and likes heels and good hits? Who cares. He’s into this moment. This moment of dressing up with his bisexual mother. Whom is dressing down into a young man while he’s dressing up into an older woman. I often put on feminine clothes to prove something. To prove I have a vagina. But I know so many men that look extraordinary in my clothes who have a penis. I play dress up with my husbands clothes. Like my curious son running his hands across my shirts and picking out his eyeshadow colors.
WANTED: SINGLE WHITE MALE
There is the most handsome man at my new job. He sits only a few desks away from mine. His name is Kevin Huntington and has gorgeous short dark blonde hair with the eyes that are bluer than the Caribbean Sea. I am guessing his is at least 6’2” and I would lay money that he played sports all through high school and college. He reminds me of the perfect “Ken Doll” that I use to dream about when I was a little girl. He dresses like he could step up and walk a fashion run way at any moment. All the girls in the office do whatever they can to get his attention and he doesn’t even notice them. I personally think it is really pathetic seeing all the office skanks throw themselves at him. I at least have some sort of class when I am attracted to somebody. I also remember to play it cool when I am the new girl in the office. But I can tell the other women in the office already see me as competition. I got wicked looks from them when he set a cup of coffee on my desk this morning, and thanked me for helping him catch up on all of his filing. He even knew my name! I wonder if he had asked somebody who I was or if it was the stupid name tag that I had to wear my first week of training.
To some people, bisexuality may sound like a superpower - double the romantic option means double the chance, right? But in reality, bisexuality can be regarded as a somewhat embarrassing identity. Bisexuals are not straight, so it's hard to think that they are the majority in terms of sexuality. On the other hand, they are often considered to be heterosexual, especially when they have heterosexual partners, which sometimes makes it difficult for them to feel their connection to the LGBT groups.
Hi! So, I thought I'd make a list of things I wish I had known or been told once I started transitioning. I came out when I was 15 and, despite how hard it's been, I've never looked back.
The Winter Express
It was the last weekend before Christmas. That last big holiday before everyone would ring in the new year. People from all over packed the train station, hoping to catch a quick trip to Winter Park to hit the slopes one last time. I included myself in this as I didn’t want to drive through the Rockies from Denver to a ski resort.
Logline: An illegal love in 1915 is a dangerous game; two young men, a medical student and a petty criminal face steep odds for making a life together.
It was a Sunday. June 30, 2019 to be exact. I was working for an Amazon fulfillment center at the time and a few of my coworkers were persuading me to join them in the annual Pride Parade. I have two sisters that are still in high school and at the time they were 15 and 16. I thought it would be good for them to participate in something like that and experience a little culture. I signed us up. At the time, I had no idea how miserably lonely I truly was. I'm a cisgender heterosexual woman (26 then) and was dating a man whose name I'll leave out of this. We had been together for 3 years and 6 months. We spent almost 1 year living together at my parents house and another 2 years living alone. He deployed for 10 months during that time period, and I stayed with him. We adopted 2 cats. And I was 1 semester into my junior year of college. All of these numbers felt crucial to me at the time. They were measurements of a life I wanted so badly to work. I didn't want to accept how much time I had been wasting.
Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDoR) is November 20th every year. This day is used to remember and recognize the lives of transgender individuals lost to hate-fueled violence. This year, there were at least 350 murders in the community worldwide. Many people's murders go unreported or not reported properly, so the exact number of how many individuals were murdered never really will be accurate. While we recognize and mourn our trans* siblings around the world, it is easier (for my sake) to recognize the 47 lives that were taken in the United States. A compiled list for everyone around the world will be provided at the end.