Natalie Slaughter

At this point gender basically exists to sell us stuff.

A polyamorous relationship is like any other relationship — you set rules and sometimes you hit bumps along the way, but everyone involved knows what is and isn’t acceptable.

I barely had a chance to say “What’s taking him so long?” before he stepped up to the counter to ask me what he could help me with. Me. Not my friend who had been standing there for a minimum of twenty minutes waiting for assistance, but ME, the white girl.

Even a Google search will conflate “queer women” with “lesbian.” So the first and most obvious thing I wish people understood about being a queer woman, is that we exist.

Because you only get one shot at life.

We’ve all made bad choices when it comes to dating. Mine involves Hannah Montana, a tractor, and an awkward invitation to a threesome.

You can learn to live with the pain, you can move on as I have after over a decade of self-reflection and hard work, but you never, ever get over it.

I’m very aware of the fact that I’m fat — trust me. I’ve had this body for longer than you’ve been familiar with it.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with loving my body. I don’t have to choose between being fat and beautiful, I can be both.

[N]o one held my molester down and called the police for what he did to me. He was quietly escorted away, and over the course of a few months, the whispers of support turned into accusations.