Elis de Guerre

Elis de Guerre

Bio

Mx. Elis de Guerre is an androgyne writer, editor, and activist specializing in mental health, addiction, and trauma. They have written online copy for rehab centers, and essays, narrative nonfiction, and journalism for multiple online and print publications. They are currently working on a manuscript about complex post-traumatic stress disorder and addiction, and they are affiliated with Active Minds, the Mental Health America Advocacy Network, the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), the National Association of Memoir Writers, the Nonfiction Authors Association, No Stigmas, and the One Love Foundation. You can also find them on Medium.

Elis de Guerre Articles

How many spoons can reasonably be left for what makes you happy, what makes life worth living?

The Maddening Difficulties Of Going On Mental Health Disability

I first went on disability when I lived in Rochester, New York.

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“We’ve got to be nice and cool, nice and calm. All right, stay on point, Donald. Stay on point. No sidetracks, Donald. Nice and easy.” (Image Credit: Instagram/donaldtrumpjokes)

It's Presidential Joke Day. Laugh It Up, America (LOLSOB)

Whatever you choose to call Trump’s somewhat less-than-presidential-much-less-good words and actions, today is the day to celebrate them by mocking them online. Thankfully (?) Trump has given us plenty of material to work with.

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"Comparison is the thief of joy."

Why You Should Never Compare Sex Partners 

I have slept with seven men: five bona fide boyfriends, one guy I was seeing for a time, and one one-night stand. According to Slate’s sex history calculator, which is based on data in the General Social Survey from 2006-2014, I have slept with more people than 53% of my female peers, which I think gives me an edge comparing the sexual performances of men.

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Aaron Wiseman created the most beautiful alphabet soup Twitter party for us, and it's raging hard.

#LGBTBabes Is Our New Favorite Trending Hashtag

Let the #LGBTBabes party rage on, my fellow rainbow darlings. You're beautiful. You're supported. You're loved. And you're perfect just as you are.

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I have a name, you know.

The Not-So-Subtle Sexism Of The Service Industry

My jeans are tight, and show off the curve of my ass. My black shirts are fitted, sometimes low cut, but always flattering to my figure. The only thing that isn't crafted to maximize my appearance are my non-slip shoes. Otherwise, I have to look pretty. Pretty girls get better tips.

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Keep going forward.

Strap On Whenever It Seems Appropriate: Why This Quote Became My Life-Changing Mantra

After the breathless panting of my previous panic attack had converted over time to lust, I found myself with my new love having sex in the shower. Bent over the rim of the claw-foot bathtub, I felt the past being replaced with the new joys of the present.

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NSA might be exactly what you need...

What It Means To Date With Intention

Over the course of 12 years, I’ve had relationships with eight men: lived with three, planned for marriage three times, and followed through with marriage once. But it has only been within the past six months that I have started dating with intention.

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Sometimes it's right where you left it.

After Separation: How I Stumbled Upon The Courage To Love Again

Undoing a marriage costs five times as much as it does to tie one up with a bow, and the paperwork is even longer. I've cried so hard I've thrown up my dinner in a municipal lot, exhausted myself with memories to the point where 7 p.m. seems like reasonable bedtime, and contemplated spending my wedding anniversary alternating between taking a pair of scissors or a lighter to my wedding dress.

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How I Learned To Thrive Without A Father

I disowned my father when I was 17. He was a perfect storm of a human being, drowning women in physical abuse, rape, judgment, and his excuses. I experienced all but rape, and for that I consider myself lucky.

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My 6 Month Love Affair With Cocaine

For six months I was a heavy user, a big spender, the girl who let her boyfriend snort lines off her ass and tits. For six months, I fell into cocaine culture, and then, just as suddenly, I fell back out.

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