Jetta Rae DoubleCakes

We deserve to be safe. We deserve to live—even at the cost of your flawed, incomplete grasp of lesbian identity.

When you openly deride poor/sick/incarcerated people who have access to nutritious and delicious food, you set us all up for failure.

Beth's story of abuse and murderous desire is ultimately one of redemption and insight into the human condition.

The apron was a birthday gift—to both of us, really. She was the first woman to ever call me 'Mommy.'

I put the lotion on my skin for a week after they left, hoping that it would bring me stop-gap solace until they forgave me and came back.

Every now and then a “Mommy” would escape her lips and I would wipe it from my face, like mud or mosquitos on an otherwise idyllic summer’s drive.

Being a polyamorist has yet to afford me that “communal pride.” It’s not an identity that I associate with good politics. Yet.

DoubleCakes dishes out advice to a reader who did something unseemly in her one-night-stand's bed.

News that televangelist Angley forced congregants to have abortions shocked the nation. But his actions don't exist in a vacuum.

I have an intense, irrational fear of amputation. I threw up trying to read Geek Love. I get light-headed, piss-pantsy in Halloween stores.