Matt Joseph Diaz

I know, it's Monday. BLECH. But, that also means it's time for #MondaysWithMatt.

I’m recovering from some pretty major surgery that has made it really uncomfortable to move around. In addition, because of the painkillers and antibiotics, obviously, I’m not allowed to drink or basically do anything I enjoy anymore.

Taking the time to find clothes that I liked, to dye my hair, and get tattooed — for the first time I was building a place of my own.

When I lost that ability for a while, being too weak and swollen to really put the effort in, it felt like I’d lost a part of myself. It felt like I’d regressed, like I’d gotten to the finish line and was forced back into the race.

This is the trap we fall into when we discuss recovery, emotional development, mental health, or body image: believing there’s a destination.

The “you” who opens their eyes in the morning isn’t the same “you” lays down their head in that bed that night. In those few hours of consciousness you have more exposure to life, you experience a world of compassion and cruelty that has the potential to change the trajectory of your entire life.

How embarrassing is this story, and is the value in it (be it entertainment, educational, or both) enough that the benefit in sharing it outweighs how mortifying it is?

Being a "nice guy" has become an excuse for unacceptable behavior in romantic relationships. Matt says enough is enough. It's time for honesty to take the place of kindness with ulterior motives.

Instead of being allowed to exist as fully complex and sexual human beings, they’re relegated to being a tag in pornography. They’re seen as a guilty pleasure among those with “abnormal” sexual appetites, something to be viewed sexually in spite of their comparison to what we consider "the norm."

Feeling unsafe and feeling uncomfortable aren't the same. Pushing yourself into uncomfortable places can help you grow.

When you go through a difficult, traumatic, or transformative experience, there’s a part of you that wants to hold onto the person you were before it happened. You try so hard to hold onto a simpler time–a time when things weren’t so scary. But you can’t.

For a long time, passing privilege made me feel like I didn’t deserve to call myself latino.