Jetta Rae DoubleCakes

This implies there are rules. And when it comes to GamerGate, there are no rules.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

Nail polish and straws put rape prevention squarely on the shoulders of women, a responsbility we've always borne.

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

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

Speaking out for the rights of all women doesn’t make me a misandrist or an infighter.