Of all the things I hate about Bethany, none is more irksome than her clomping. She clomps around at all hours, each footfall landing solid on the hardwoods and reverberating throughout the house.
I’m getting outta Texas, and I’m getting vocal about how wrong some of the shit going down is. I’m tired of being “civil.” I’m ready to be RUDE in the name of equality.
It’s just a story. That’s what you’ll tell yourself. That’s how folks keep from losing their minds. But I seen things—horrible things. And there are things even I won’t dare to look at.
I attempted discourse with people online who don’t see things the way I do. I know what you’re thinking. “Ashley, they’ll eat you alive!” And they did, but I’d still do it all over again.
The fire in me is born of righteous indignation. I don’t care what holiness you claim or what heathen name you call me. I know what I am, and I stand against those who would abuse.
Every single time I see someone post something well-meaning that suggests (or overtly endorses) hate as a solution, it hurts. That won’t work. That never works. Hate is no solution. It never has been.
Day in, day out, I find myself trying to make sense of the madness and coming up empty time and again. Because, come on, people. KINDNESS isn’t hard. It really isn’t. Can we please give that a try?
I know how jazzed you are about the idea of reading a whole article on privilege. Probably as jazzed as I am to be writing it. Which is to say, not jazzed at all. Let’s do this.
I’ve been quiet for a while. Let’s not make it a thing. Yeah, I know. I brought it up. Okay. Fine. If you insist. Where does one find attractive lesbians who are cool with trans chicks?