David Minerva Clover

David Minerva Clover

Bio

David Minerva Clover is a queer and transgender writer, covering everything from parenting to why dinosaurs are awesome. His work has appeared in The Washington Post, New York Mag, The Establishment, and many other places. He lives in beautiful Detroit Michigan with his spouse, one child, and an embarrassment of animals. Check out his blog at Postnuclear Era or follow him on twitter at @dm_clover.

David Minerva Clover Articles

Most wild animals do not seem to over-breed in their earliest years of fertility, but cats absolutely will. The more that I learned, the more that I felt for these creatures put in a terrible position by irresponsible humans.

How Feminism Made Me Love Feral Cats

I believe in reproductive justice. I believe everyone deserves a say in how, when, and if, they choose to reproduce. I believe comprehensive sex education and access to safe and legal abortion are important parts of giving women, girls, and other people with uteruses full agency over their reproductive lives. Could we extend this to cats, too?

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Having my son pushed me entirely off my course, and then bumped me onto a different one. Image: Thinkstock.

Having A Baby Forced Me To Become A Writer

I am at the bar, working on a piece about kids’ books, while my wife stays home to mind the baby. The lady next to me strikes up a conversation about this and that. Then she notices that I’m still casually clutching a copy of Guess How Much I Love You?

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It only reinforced and strengthened my belief that women and other people who can become pregnant have a fundamental right to decide what happens to their body.

Pregnancy Made Me More  Pro-Choice

Something had clicked in my head. Suddenly I didn't give a shit when life began or whether or not a fetus counts as a “baby.” I was overwhelmed by the new-found knowledge that pregnancy is unfairly invasive in every single way.

If you believe in bodily autonomy and consent, folks should get to consent (or not) to the process of gestation. Full stop. No caveats.

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Yule is a promise: winter sucks, but spring will come again.

Centering Yule During A Month Full Of Christmas

After the solstice, the light very slowly begins to return, and every day is a little longer. Yule is a promise: winter sucks, but spring will come again.

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What I love, what I’m most interested in (at least in terms of written and spoken word), is the telling of stories.

Selling Yourself For Scraps: Why I Love Personal Essays

But what I did write, and write constantly, were diaries and journals. I kept notebooks and three-ring binders filled with observations about my life that I thought were interesting. Sometimes I worried that these personal stories were too naval-gazing, but I still held on to them, hoping that someday someone would want them.

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I’m fat in my wedding photos, and I also look damn good. Image: The Clovers.

The Summer I Got Fat: A Love Story

I had always considered myself to be extremely body positive. I loved my body! I had several close friends who were fat activists, and I was working hard to be a good thin ally. But despite all of that, I wasn’t ready for the changes that were happening in myself.

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Breastfeeding saved my life.

Breastfeeding Literally Saved My Life

Breastfeeding brought me back. It kept me in my body, forced me to hold my son’s body, and helped me stay connected to the physical reality of everything. What I remember are flashes of joy in the darkness, his tiny hands clenched in determined fists. His feet curled against my soft stomach. The release of the milk starting to flow. My arms wrapped up around him.

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For years, I fell into tropes popularized by the romantic comedy genre, without even realizing it. (Image: Thinkstock)

I Hate Romantic Comedies, So Why Do They Matter?

Here’s the thing though, hating romantic comedies, and avoiding them when I could, didn’t stop me from absorbing their all consuming messages about love, sex, and romance.

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In this family, those figures traditionally made of three snowballs stacked atop each other — they’re called snowpeople.

In This Family, We Say Snowperson 

People might raise their eyebrows when they hear me say “snowperson” for the first time. But it makes perfect sense. A man is just a kind of person.

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The baby is on the outside. Image: Thinkstock.

The Shower, PTSD, And My Traumatic Labor

[CN: PTSD, pregnancy, birth] Something snapped inside me and I was transported backwards in time.

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