you hang a picture over your bed
of a silhouette lost like a wrinkle
in the folds of the desert
at 19 and an immigrant
one-way plane ticket from Hong Kong
hen I was 14, I walked into a church youth lock-in and fell head-over-heels in love with the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I immediately knew four things:
1. I liked a girl. A lot.
2. I was a girl.
3. Girls couldn’t like girls.
4. This was an especially bad situation given that I was at church.Read More
I never really confided in my family about who I dated. My attitude towards dating was nothing like my parents'. I saw dating as a series of experiments that eventually lead to something amazing or absolutely nothing. My parents, on the other hand, moved in together on their second date and didn't approve of me dating anyone that wasn't a potential marriage prospect for me. SO to avoid conflict I just didn’t talk to them about who I was dating. I figured if my feelings for someone ever stuck then I would tell my parents. I don't like most people so I thought I was pretty safe from having that "I'm a lesbian talk.”Read More
I cannot recall how we even started chatting about lesbianism. We hadn’t known each other very long, maybe just a few months. I remember thinking how I would be kinda of nervous to bring up something like that with someone I barely knew, but really loved how open and comfortable Emma was in conversation.Read More
After shaving my head for the first time at 21, I suddenly, for the first time in my life, had game. That whole summer was a glorious festival of flirting with the brave and visible queer ladies of Ann Arbor, Michigan. We danced like goddesses at Necto nightclub on Pride night, leaving the straight males alone in their college-night shark tank.Read More