As a neurodivergent queer person, I have always had problems with sudden input of triggering content.
I sit in my room every day now
Waiting for your call
To hear an “i love you” from you
With ‘you’ being all of me.
You fumble and drop sentences, your leg trembles and beats a staccato rhythm on the pavement while she patiently hears out your half-complete, constantly backtracking stories, nods and keeps brushing her hair back.
Two people came along that sparked off another incredible alchemy within me. A messy change that scooped the confetti off the ground and merrily tossed it into the air again.
Intersex people spend a lot of their lives doing this emotional labor for others because they are inherently responsible to be born an error.
It's been on my mind
For a month or two now
I'm not any different from who I used to be,
Just one secret down.
As a kid, I wanted to be the strongest girl in class; I wanted to hand-wrestle better than any of the boys, and have them stare at me in admiration. They did. I could beat all of them in a single sitting.
she's a habit. an 8 am class that I take, a 5 pm phone call that I make, my best/worst muse.
By the time I was 9 years old, I had decided that Nikhil from Daddy would break my heart at the tender age of 18 - leaving me floundering in a state of melodramatic, bangle-breaking depression - until I was ready to be rescued from Heartbreak™ and my own female fragility, by my superhero: Raj from DDLJ. But alas, my childhood fantasy remained unfulfilled.
I am taught by these women
fortunate enough to have had them raise me
whether in my house or oceans away
Over the years, I’ve experienced a plethora of WLW crushes of fluctuating degrees – which usually range from sugary-sweet and ecstatic to mind-numbingly painful. Upon introspection, I’ve been able to pinpoint 6 crushes that almost all WLW experience at some point in their queer journey.
When I joined the course, I was excited to share my experiences with the class. But with time I realised not everyone was interested. Most of them didn't interact with me, asked questions, or exchange their experiences.
If I wasn’t feeling like shit because I was turned on by girls (one girl in particular), I’m sure I would have found something else to hate myself for. I was young, female, loud, and had a body. Society does this to you. It moulds you till you are all soft woundable spots, and then it makes you kick yourself.
I tried to remember if the booth on screen is the same booth that I and my partner usually go and get a security check from. I couldn’t recognise it. I stopped thinking and concentrated on the film.
I want to tell him how I feel,
How I struggle to sleep,
That fear of the two letter word,
Makes me weep,
He is The Only One.
It’s a chilly, Friday evening when Maulana – with his wide, expressive eyes and ochre, paan-stained teeth – announces that Islam considers the marriage of a man and a woman to be a contract. You giggle and blush, unaccustomed to conversations about the M-word.
how do you know it's girls?
i wonder as my friend comes out to me
how do you know the limit of your love?
and somehow, weird quizzes dragged me all over the internet
My family, for one, cherishes a ritual that I like to refer to as the "chai peelo, sab theek ho jaayega". The chai peelo, sab theek ho jaayega or CPSTHJ is a delicate ritual that must be performed every time an uncomfortable truth is brought up.
The acronym LGBT+ came in my life when I had a feeling I might love women. I was not sure until I turned 20. Before that, I defined myself as heterosexual ? a woman who loved men.
Here, bisexuality is more like
like gay, but not gay enough,
like double the options (or so you think)
but eight times the panic.