You can’t file away desire. The maddening and amazing thing about the heart is its inability to be classified or pinned down. Labeling myself sexually has never worked. I have been a folder without a label, languishing in sexual limbo during a time of increasing mainstream acceptance of LGBTQ identity.
But while the Q of “queer” is rightfully gaining more traction, the Q of “questioning” doesn’t get a lot of love in a culture that demands definition. I have always envied people who find the perfect sticker for themselves and proudly display it one way or another, but I grew up finding role models in people of color who expressed a sexuality fluid enough to seem as close to being a questioner’s love as possible—the broad romanticism of Zora Neale Hurston, bell hooks’s adamant romantic flexibility, the undesignated bisexuality of Lorraine Hansberry, or the declared free sexual expression of Alice Walker and Meshell Ndegeocello.
— Joshunda Sanders, The Questioning Continuum
Francine Prose, Goldengrove
I love this lady. Shilpa Ray with “I Is What I Is.”
In a moment of “well why the fuck not” I made an okcupid profile again and the results were mostly all shit which was funny and sad but then I actually responded to two guys and I might meet one of them and now I want to vomit. I can’t judge attraction from pictures. I mean he’s cute but will I want to sit on his face? But he did make a joke about misandry and reads Allison Bechdel so I guess that’s something. I wish I could hang out with him without knowing it was him. Like maybe now that we know we have a lot in common and can carry on a conversation, Cupid can wipe our memories of this and have us bump into each other at a bar.
"There is a stigma in this country around women with jobs. So I want to start an organization that provides girls in the Congo with examples of women around the world who have balanced family and career. Most men in this country think it’s only about money. They think: ‘If I make enough money for us to live, then my wife should take care of the children.’ The common belief is that a woman who works is hurting her children. People don’t realize that children also gain from the knowledge and experiences of their mother."
(Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo)