Why heterosexual relationships are so bad for us

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  • Sexuality and gender researcher Jane Ward researched the history of heterosexuality and concluded that straight relationships are “tragic” because of their inherent inequality. 
  • Through interviews and research for her book, Ward concluded that straight women bear the brunt of opposite-sex relationships.
  • This unequal burden has led to the physical and emotional mistreatment of women, rising divorce rates, and lackluster sex lives among straight people, Ward told Insider.

Since the pandemic began, there has been an uptick in reports of divorce and studies finding a rise in lackluster sex — mainly among straight couples.

These trends of heterosexual relationship crises aren’t surprising to Jane Ward, a sexuality and gender professor at University of California Riverside and author of “The Tragedy of Heterosexuality.”

“I think in some ways the pandemic is revealing the tragedy of heterosexuality to people who might not have otherwise paid attention to it,” Ward told Insider.

Ward, a lesbian, has spent years researching the history of heterosexuality and its legacy. The result is a thorough academic account of all the ways the “straight” relationship dynamic restrains and hampers both men and women.

She feels sorry for straight people, especially straight women, who typically report some of the lowest sexual satisfaction in society, Ward told Insider. But she also feels sorry for straight men, who are pigeon-holed into toxic-masculine culture that teaches them they both need, and yet should also demean, women. 

“It really looks like straight men and women don’t like each other very much, that women spend so much time complaining about men, and we still have so much evidence of misogyny,” or woman-hating behavior, said Ward of her findings. “From an LGBT perspective, [being straight] looks actually very tragic.”

Straight women are the least likely to orgasm during sex

Ward interviewed almost 100 men, women, and non-binary people of varying sexual orientations about their thoughts on heterosexuality, and a common theme emerged: Straight women put straight men on a pedestal, even though it doesn’t benefit them to do so.

“I find it depressing to see what my straight female friends put up with regarding treatment from men. I really sympathize with these women, but at the same time it makes me feel alienated from them. Our lives become so different when theirs revolves around attachment to a cruel, insensitive, self-centered, or simply boring man,” a queer white female from Europe told Ward for her book.

One queer white female told Ward that she saw a post circulating among her straight friends on Facebook about “how men know when sex is over.” Every man had commented “when I cum,” and it shocked her.

“As a lesbian, I can’t imagine stopping sex with my partner the minute I cum. It’s kind of hilarious to think about! But of course it’s also sad that this is apparently the reality for straight women,” she told Ward.

Research backs up the anecdotes.

A 2018 study in the Archives of Sexual Behavior Ward cited in her book looked at orgasms differences in gay, bisexual, and straight men and women and found that straight women were the least likely to report orgasms during partnered sex. The majority of straight men in the study reported orgasming almost every time the had sex with a partner, and the other sexual orientations fell in the middle.

And though straight women often cite clitoral stimulation as a prerequisite for an orgasm, people are taught little about female sexual pleasure and how to achieve it. Instead, the focus remains on penetrative sex.

Rituals like weddings and gender reveals have resulted in literal disasters

Even joyous lexicons of straight culture have been shown to cause harm.

Just this year a gender-reveal party caused a California wildfire and firefighter death, and large weddings in Washington, Maine, and elsewhere led to coronavirus outbreaks and deaths.

Both weddings and gender reveals stem from the gender binary — the concept that there are only two genders, men and women — and the stereotypes that binary has instilled in virtually every aspect of our lives, from housework to career to sex.

“It’s that straight culture is based in a presumption that men and women are really different kinds of people, that they want different things, that they have different interests, and that they are sort of opposite. And they come together sexually and romantically because opposites attract,” Ward said of the gender binary, or idea that “man” and “woman” are the only two genders.

Heterosexual men are encouraged to objectify women and smother their own feelings

Similar to the gender-role constraints straight women face, Ward said masculine standards are suffocating straight men.

In her book, Ward wrote of the “misogyny paradox,” which refers to boys’ and mens’ struggle to appreciate and respect women in a culture where they’re also applauded and considered more masculine for hating and objectifying women.

Young men are also taught sex with women will make them manlier, but they aren’t taught how to make that experience pleasurable, or even pleasant, for the women involved.

Then there’s the issue of communicating needs and feelings, something that has been coded as a “feminine.” Men, as a result, are subtly and explicitly encouraged not to open up emotionally, leaving their partners in the dark.

“Men and women are defaulting into these gender categories,” Ward said.

“I think that if men could recognize that equity and feminism are actually really central to a healthy and happy relationship, if that’s something they want, then they might be able to move further in that direction,” said Ward.

It wasn’t always this way

Through her research, Ward found that the concepts of heterosexuality and homosexuality came into existence in the 19th century. Before then, people didn’t consider the gender or sex of the person they were having sex with as way to label themselves.

“Before then, people engaged in homosexual sex acts but it was just considered an act, not a type of person,” that you had to label, Ward said. When a person had sex with the opposite sex it was for reproductive purposes, for example, while sex with the same sex was pleasure-based and not for reproduction.

But everything changed when Hungarian journalist Karl Maria Kertbeny coined the terms “heterosexual” and “homosexual” in the 1860s. Psychotherapists began to suggest heterosexuality was a superior “type” because it allowed for procreation, while homosexuality didn’t have the same utility, BBC previously reported.

Thus a romanticized narrative of the gender binary, or idea that there are two genders of man and woman, was born. This story taught people that opposite-sex attraction, love, and family planning was the most natural way to do things, and it endures to this day in the form of straight rituals like the gender reveal party and lavish wedding ceremonies.

Since the pandemic began, there has been an uptick in reports of divorce and studies finding a rise in lackluster sex — mainly among straight couples.

These trends of heterosexual relationship crises aren’t surprising to Jane Ward, a sexuality and gender professor at University of California Riverside and author of “The Tragedy of Heterosexuality.”

“I think in some ways the pandemic is revealing the tragedy of heterosexuality to people who might not have otherwise paid attention to it,” Ward told Insider.

Ward, a lesbian, has spent years researching the history of heterosexuality and its legacy. The result is a thorough academic account of all the ways the “straight” relationship dynamic restrains and hampers both men and women.

She feels sorry for straight people, especially straight women, who typically report some of the lowest sexual satisfaction in society, Ward told Insider. But she also feels sorry for straight men, who are pigeon-holed into toxic-masculine culture that teaches them they both need, and yet should also demean, women.

“It really looks like straight men and women don’t like each other very much, that women spend so much time complaining about men, and we still have so much evidence of misogyny,” or woman-hating behavior, said Ward of her findings. “From an LGBT perspective, [being straight] looks actually very tragic.”

Straight women are the least likely to orgasm during sex

Ward interviewed almost 100 men, women, and non-binary people of varying sexual orientations about their thoughts on heterosexuality, and a common theme emerged: Straight women put straight men on a pedestal, even though it doesn’t benefit them to do so.

“I find it depressing to see what my straight female friends put up with regarding treatment from men. I really sympathize with these women, but at the same time it makes me feel alienated from them. Our lives become so different when theirs revolves around attachment to a cruel, insensitive, self-centered, or simply boring man,” a queer white female from Europe told Ward for her book.

One queer white female told Ward that she saw a post circulating among her straight friends on Facebook about “how men know when sex is over.” Every man had commented “when I cum,” and it shocked her.

“As a lesbian, I can’t imagine stopping sex with my partner the minute I cum. It’s kind of hilarious to think about! But of course it’s also sad that this is apparently the reality for straight women,” she told Ward.

Research backs up the anecdotes.

A 2018 study in the Archives of Sexual Behavior Ward cited in her book looked at orgasms differences in gay, bisexual, and straight men and women and found that straight women were the least likely to report orgasms during partnered sex. The majority of straight men in the study reported orgasming almost every time the had sex with a partner, and the other sexual orientations fell in the middle.

And though straight women often cite clitoral stimulation as a prerequisite for an orgasm, people are taught little about female sexual pleasure and how to achieve it. Instead, the focus remains on penetrative sex.
Rituals like weddings and gender reveals have resulted in literal disasters

Even joyous lexicons of straight culture have been shown to cause harm.

Just this year a gender-reveal party caused a California wildfire and firefighter death, and large weddings in Washington, Maine, and elsewhere led to coronavirus outbreaks and deaths.

Both weddings and gender reveals stem from the gender binary — the concept that there are only two genders, men and women — and the stereotypes that binary has instilled in virtually every aspect of our lives, from housework to career to sex.

“It’s that straight culture is based in a presumption that men and women are really different kinds of people, that they want different things, that they have different interests, and that they are sort of opposite. And they come together sexually and romantically because opposites attract,” Ward said of the gender binary, or idea that “man” and “woman” are the only two genders.
Heterosexual men are encouraged to objectify women and smother their own feelings

Similar to the gender-role constraints straight women face, Ward said masculine standards are suffocating straight men.

In her book, Ward wrote of the “misogyny paradox,” which refers to boys’ and mens’ struggle to appreciate and respect women in a culture where they’re also applauded and considered more masculine for hating and objectifying women.

Young men are also taught sex with women will make them manlier, but they aren’t taught how to make that experience pleasurable, or even pleasant, for the women involved.

Then there’s the issue of communicating needs and feelings, something that has been coded as a “feminine.” Men, as a result, are subtly and explicitly encouraged not to open up emotionally, leaving their partners in the dark.

“Men and women are defaulting into these gender categories,” Ward said.

“I think that if men could recognize that equity and feminism are actually really central to a healthy and happy relationship, if that’s something they want, then they might be able to move further in that direction,” said Ward.
It wasn’t always this way

Through her research, Ward found that the concepts of heterosexuality and homosexuality came into existence in the 19th century. Before then, people didn’t consider the gender or sex of the person they were having sex with as way to label themselves.

“Before then, people engaged in homosexual sex acts but it was just considered an act, not a type of person,” that you had to label, Ward said. When a person had sex with the opposite sex it was for reproductive purposes, for example, while sex with the same sex was pleasure-based and not for reproduction.

But everything changed when Hungarian journalist Karl Maria Kertbeny coined the terms “heterosexual” and “homosexual” in the 1860s. Psychotherapists began to suggest heterosexuality was a superior “type” because it allowed for procreation, while homosexuality didn’t have the same utility, BBC previously reported.

Thus a romanticized narrative of the gender binary, or idea that there are two genders of man and woman, was born. This story taught people that opposite-sex attraction, love, and family planning was the most natural way to do things, and it endures to this day in the form of straight rituals like the gender reveal party and lavish wedding ceremonies.

Complete Article HERE!

Cisgender vs. Straight

— It’s Not Always One and the Same

by Alysse Dalessandro Santiago

If you aren’t familiar with the many terms used to describe members of LGBTQIA+ communities, they may seem like a big ol’ bowl of alphabet soup. But there’s a good reason for all those terms: People are unique, and varying gender identities and sexual orientations can make it hard to fit into a two-gender box.

But what about other terms, like “cisgender,” that often (but not always) exist outside the LGBTQIA+ community? Are you automatically straight if you’re cisgender?

Let us explain cisgender vs. straight.

A cisgender, or “cis,” person identifies as the gender they were assigned at birth. So a cisgender person’s sex on their original birth certificate matches their current gender identity.

You might also see terms like “assigned male at birth” (AMAB) or “assigned female at birth” (AFAB) used to describe someone’s birth gender.

If a person’s gender identity doesn’t match the gender they were assigned at birth, they may identify as transgender or nonbinary.

Are you always male or female at birth?

In the United States, there’s a legal movement for a more inclusive approach to gender. Currently, 13 states allow you to change your birth certificate to say “male,” “female,” or the gender-neutral option “X.”

Identifying as straight is pretty, er, straightforward. Having a sexual orientation of straight means that someone’s attraction, either sexual or romantic, is to a gender other than their own.

This definition is deeply ingrained in societal norms. A straight relationship is typically between a person who identifies as a man and a person who identifies as a woman.

Cisgender” is a gender identity. Gender identity describes how a person identifies themself, such as man, woman, nonbinary, or another identity they prefer. So if someone who was assigned male at birth identifies as a man, he’d be a cisgender male.

“Straight” is a sexual orientation, which describes one’s attraction to other people. Someone is straight if they identify as one gender and are attracted to the “opposite” gender.

A straight relationship is typically seen as involving a cisgender male and a cisgender female. But people whose gender differs from the one they were assigned at birth can still be straight if they’re attracted to a different gender.

When Murray in “Clueless” refers to Dionne as “woman,” that’s her gender. But calling her “female,” well, that would be her sex. What’s the difference? It’s not a simple answer.

Gender is typically influenced by society, not biology, and is responsible for the association of certain traits, language, behavior, and characteristics with being a man or a woman. But gender can be more complex and nuanced than the binary terms.

A person’s gender is often conflated with their sex. Sex is traditionally designated by doctors based on a person’s genitalia at birth. But gender identity is a more expansive view that goes beyond your sex. For example, a trans man could have female genitalia but identify as a man, not a woman.

Bottom line: Your sex (based on genitalia) doesn’t have to “match” your gender (how you identify). Your gender identity isn’t stuck in the construct of your sex.

What about intersex?

The term “intersex” refers to someone’s biological sex not fitting into the binary of male or female. But this term doesn’t dictate gender.

When a person is born intersex, their genitalia, sex organs, hormones, or chromosomes have both female- and male-identifying characteristics. This means an intersex person can have both a uterus and testicles, but they could identify as a man, a woman, nonbinary, etc.

This is also known as a person having a difference in sex development (DSD). It occurs naturally, although some characteristics don’t develop until later in life. Research suggests that about 1 in 100 people are born with DSDs.

As with most things related to gender, it’s not as simple as a person being either cisgender or transgender.

To be either cisgender or transgender still relies on the gender binary of male or female as the framework. Have a penis and identify as a man? Cisgender. Assigned male at birth but identify as a woman? Transgender.

Other gender identities or expressions that don’t always fit into the category of cisgender or transgender include:

  • Nonbinary. Some folks don’t identify as either a man or a woman, while others identify as both. “Nonbinary” is often used as an umbrella term for people whose gender identities exist outside the binary of man and woman.
  • Gender-fluid. A person can also identify as gender-fluid, which means their gender identity is not fixed — instead, they move between identities. One moment “man” fits, and another “woman” feels best.
  • Gender nonconforming. This means someone’s gender expression doesn’t match the gender they were assigned at birth. But people who identify as gender nonconforming may also identify as cisgender.

These are just a few examples. There are more than 64 terms that can describe a person’s gender identity or expression.

The deal with gender identify

Gender identity is up to each individual to decide. And someone’s gender identity may not match their gender expression. For example, someone may identify as a woman, but their appearance may be masculine.

Complete Article HERE!

The difference between gender, gender expression, and sexuality

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  • Gender, gender presentation, and sexuality are concepts that are commonly lumped together and confused for each other. Insider has compiled a guide to each.
  • Gender is how you identify, whether it be as a man, woman, non-binary, or something else. It can differ from the sex you were assigned at birth based on your genitalia.
  • Sexuality, or sexual orientation, refers to what gender or genders of people you are attracted to, if any.
  • Gender presentation is how you dress, act, and physically present your gender identity, whether it be through clothes, makeup, hair, and more. It does not have to “match” your gender.
  • As more people in the United States begin to openly identify as transgender and/or non-binary, conversations around gender, gender presentation, and sexuality are opening up.These terms are often confused for one another in discussions. Not understanding these terms can make it difficult for some people to understand queerness and transness.Here is an easy guide on the difference between gender, gender presentation, and sexuality.

    What is gender identity?

    Simply put, gender identity refers to how a person sees themselves in terms of their gender.

    While many babies are typically assigned male or female based on their genitalia, with the exception of intersex people who express sexual characteristics of both sexes, this doesn’t necessarily reflect what their gender identity is or will be.

    People who do not identify with the gender they they were assigned at birth typically identify as transgender, non-binary, or both. People who identify with the sex they were assigned at birth are cisgender.

    For example, a woman who was assigned female at birth is a cisgender woman. A man who was assigned female at birth is a transgender man. A person who identifies as a gender outside of man and woman can full under the non-binary spectrum. Many non-binary people are also trans, but it depends on the person.

    Transgender and/or non-binary people do not have to have any medical procedures to be considered valid, though many people do opt for gender-affirming procedures like hormone replacement therapy or surgery.

    Any person can be trans, regardless of their medical history or use of transitionary care.

    What is the difference between gender identity and gender expression?

    While gender is how people identity, gender expression is how a person decides to present their gender externally. This can be through clothing, hair, interests, and other physical forms of expressing yourself.

    Someone’s gender presentation doesn’t dictate their gender identity.

    People can express their gender in ways that don’t match the traditional expectations of the gender they are. For example, a woman can dress in a masculine way and still be a woman. 

    This concept doesn’t change if a person is trans or non-binary. A transman is still a man even if he wears makeup every day and a trans woman is still a woman even if she doesn’t have long hair.

    Non-binary people also do not have to present androgenously to be considered valid in their gender.

    What is the difference between gender and sexuality?

    Gender is who you are, whereas sexuality or sexual orientation is who you are attracted to.

    Sexuality is a spectrum, not a series of distinct categories. Someone can identify as a lesbian, queer, straight, gay, heteroflexible, bisexual, pansexual, and more.

    People can be any sexual orientation, regardless of how they express their gender.

    A person being trans doesn’t automatically mean they are queer in their sexuality. For example, a transman who is attracted to women can identify as straight, and a transwoman who is attracted to women can be a lesbian.

    Ultimately, it’s best to ask people for their pronouns and how they identify, since it’s not possible to assume someone’s gender, gender expression, or sexuality based on how they look.

Complete Article HERE!

Dating All Genders for the First Time?

Here’s Where To Start.

Explore dating new people with care and compassion front of mind.

by Taylor Hartman

Sara Saito was nervous. Her palms were sweating as she sat at a crowded bar, waiting for her date.

Saito had been in the U.S. for a semester studying business abroad at the University of Utah, and she was about to go on her first real date since starting school.

The date itself wasn’t what was giving Saito nerves — after all, she’d dated people in high school and had a boyfriend for a year.

She was nervous because after struggling with her sexual identity for years, this was the first time she was going on a date with a woman.

“I’d always been attracted to women but I was too scared of the unknown,” Saito said. “I’m a pretty shy person, so doing something social that’s new is scary for me.”

As a single person in a new city, Saito said she was finally ready to better understand herself and explore dating a wider variety of people. When she first found out she wanted to start date women, Saito felt lost, unsure of where to look or how to begin.

“I can download Tinder and change the gender to women, but for me, I was still nervous,” Saito said.

“What if I say the wrong thing or break a ‘rule?’ What if I find out I am less attracted to girls [than I thought]? Those were real concerns for me because I was so new to everything, it all was overwhelming and scary.”

Ready to date different genders? Self knowledge is key

Like Saito, many young people feel more comfortable with exploring their sexuality these days, but navigating a new social landscape can be a scary prospect.

For mental health experts like Sorin Thomas, exploring and understanding one’s gender is a beautiful part of life. But it should be done with care and other people’s well-being in mind, and always remembering hearts are at stake.

Thomas is the founding and executive director of QUEER ASTERISK, a Colorado-based nonprofit organization providing queer-informed counseling services, educational training and community programming.

“When we explore dating different genders the danger is people can get tokenized,” Thomas says,

“And then that could become further harmful when the person doesn’t have a good framework for how to validate another person’s gender, body, sexual identity and more.”

Thomas points out if a person isn’t sure what gender they’re attracted to, it may not be the best time to experiment with other people.

“It comes from that person unlocking things in themselves first,” Thomas said.

Get rid of misconceptions in you and others

One of the most common misunderstandings Thomas sees in counseling queer individuals and their families is that biological sex, gender and sexual orientation are all the same part of a person’s identity. In reality, the notions of gender, sex and attraction are much more nuanced, and often act independently of each other.

For example, Thomas said many people assume a transgender man would identify as heterosexual.

“The parent who’s saying something in their head like, ‘Gosh, I can’t imagine my child as a trans boy, they’ve always been attracted to boys,'” Thomas said.

“We try to help people understand that these things aren’t determined by each other.”

Thomas says the first step in dating new genders is to do some self-searching, and find out how you may identify, and how your biology, gender, and sexuality relate. When we understand how we’re oriented in the world, we can better understand how other people are.

Find inclusive resources and communities

No matter who we date, getting out there and meeting potential partners is a challenge. For folks who are just starting to date all genders, the usual resources for meeting people can be overwhelming.

Jake Arnold came out of the closet in December 2018, his senior year of college.

“I decided to download Grindr because I figure that’s where I’d meet people,” Arnold said.

“I was immediately bombarded with d*** pics and messages of people wanting to hook up. It was overwhelming.”

Arnold took a step back from Grindr and decided to research other dating platforms that were queer-friendly. He joined OkCupid, an app long hailed as an inclusive dating service, and felt less pressured. He eventually met his boyfriend on the site.

Arnold now volunteers with his local pride organization to provide a safe, pressure-free space for queer people — a space he felt he missed.

“I know how scary it is to come out and start looking,” Arnold said. “I want to be there for those people who are scared and say ‘I know what you’ve been through, I know how crazy gay dating can get, here’s what I did.”

Dating services and resources tailored to include queer people are becoming more common, Thomas said. At the end of the day, it’s important to realize that one’s sexual journey is just that — a journey.

Most of the time, we never arrive exactly where we thought we would, and the journey itself is something to celebrate.

“No one is a polished finished product,” Thomas said. “Trying something is messy. But to be able to do this with as much grace and integrity as possible is really great.”

Complete Article HERE!

Beyond X & Y: Chromosomes and Sex Organs

When it comes to sex chromosomes, there’s more to it than XX or XY

Gender and sex beyond X & Y.

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Welcome to Beyond X & Y! This blog will explore all things gender and sex, and there’s a ton of ground to cover. Just a few of the topics I aim to explore include the latest studies on sexual and reproductive health, psychology and gender, sex worker health policies and more — including the titillating stuff.

Let’s start with the bread and butter: genes.

Sex and gender are complex, and our understanding of both is constantly evolving. Even a quality as seemingly simple and binary as biological sex is a spectrum rather than an either/or. In fact, sex chromosomes — and how those chromosomes translate into physical features — can vary in quite a few ways.

Here’s what’s regarded as the “norm”:

XY chromosomes = penis & testes = man

XX chromosomes = vagina & ovaries = woman

Gender is subjective to each person, and sex organs don’t dictate gender. People with penises aren’t necessarily men, and people with vaginas aren’t necessarily women. The thing is, XX and XY chromosomes aren’t cut and dry, either. Actually, sex chromosomes and genetic expression vary widely, beyond a penis/vagina or XY/XX binary. XX and XY with the aforementioned expressions are the most common sex chromosomes and corresponding organs, but they’re not the only ones.

Some people have differing sex chromosomes, such as those who are born with an extra X chromosome (XXY) or who are missing an X chromosome (XO). Or, some people with XX or XY chromosomes might have physical characteristics that don’t seem to align with what’s typically expected of their DNA. All of this is to say that many bodies that exist outside of the assumptions that come with XX and XY sex chromosomes.

One word that often describes these bodies is “intersex.” Intersex is an umbrella term that describes any person whose sex characteristics do not neatly fit into binary categories. Intersex people might have sex organs that include both XX and XY sex characteristics. Babies born intersex are often subjected to superfluous surgery in infancy in order to make their genitals appear either male or female.

Being intersex itself is a spectrum. It’s not always clear-cut when someone is intersex. What’s considered an abnormal size for genitalia? What about when someone has sex organs that align with one binary, but secondary sex traits that do not? Like gender and sexuality, genetic expression varies, too. There is not just one way to be intersex. Here are just a few examples of intersex variations:

Klinefelter Syndrome (XXY chromosome)

A person with this condition has an extra X chromosome, and is usually socialized as male, meaning the doctor will say, “It’s a boy!” at the delivery, and the baby henceforth will be treated like a boy. Affecting about 1 in 650 newborn boys, this is one of the most common sex chromosome variations.

Turner Syndrome (XO chromosome)

While a functioning pair of X chromosomes is common, some people only have one functioning X. They are usually socialized as females (“It’s a girl!”), and have underdeveloped female sex characteristics.

Swyer Syndrome (XY gonadal dysgenesis)

A person with Swyer Syndrome doesn’t have functional sex glands, and typically appears female. The glands they do have are known as gonadal streaks — slightly developed gonad tissue. Those with Swyer Syndrome will not develop secondary sex characteristics (e.g., breasts, Adam’s apple) without hormone replacement because gonadal streaks cannot produce sex hormones characteristic of puberty.

Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia (CAH)

CAH is the most common cause of intersex traits in those with XX chromosomes. It does not cause intersex traits in those with XY chromosomes. CAH results in an imbalanced production of hormones from adrenal glands, which are hormone-producing glands above the kidneys. The glands create an unusually high amount of virilizing hormones that can result in physical characteristics such as a deep voice, dense body hair and prominent musculature.

Ovotestes

These sex glands include both ovarian and testicular tissue. One with this condition can be born with any combination of ovaries and ovotestes. The genitals of a person with ovotestes may appear more typically male, female or somewhere in between.

Some might argue that the fact these physical traits are called “syndromes” or “conditions” means there’s something wrong with the individuals; they have an illness or irregularity. Just because someone is different doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with them. Equating the two results in the stigma that often comes with being intersex. 

Others might argue that intersex people might be sterile, which definitely indicates that something’s wrong or “not natural.” Equating fertility and humanity harms everyone, not just intersex people — plenty of cis men and women are sterile, but each one is no less of a person. Reducing a person to their reproductive organs, and even to their genes, and only rendering two viable options fails to recognize a swath of the population, harming our concept of human sexuality, and — sometimes literally — the people it tries to erase.

Complete Article HERE!

Gender and sexuality in autism, explained

by

Gender, like autism, exists on a spectrum. In the 1990s, as growing numbers of children sought care related to their gender identity, clinicians and researchers began to notice a trend: An unexpected number of these children were autistic or had autism traits. The observation has spurred researchers to work to quantify the association.

The field is beginning to get a clear picture of the extent to which the two spectrums overlap: Gender identity and sexuality are more varied among autistic people than in the general population, and autism is more common among people who do not identify as their assigned sex than it is in the population at large — three to six times as common, according to an August study1. Researchers are also making gains on how best to support autistic people who identify outside conventional genders.

Here we explain what scientists and clinicians know — and don’t know — about gender and sexuality in autistic people.

What is gender identity?
Gender identity is a person’s internal sense of their own gender. People who identify as the sex they were assigned at birth are called ‘cisgender,’ or cis, whereas those who do not may use terms such as transgender, nonbinary or gender fluid. Researchers often use the phrase ‘gender diverse’ as an umbrella term for different gender identities, similar to the way some people use ‘neurodiverse’ to describe variations in cognitive style, including autism and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.

How common is gender diversity among autistic people?
Many studies have examined the prevalence of gender diversity among autistic people. One of the most frequently cited studies found that about 15 percent of autistic adults in the Netherlands identify as trans or nonbinary; the percentage is higher among people assigned female at birth than among people assigned male, a trend seen in other studies2. By contrast, less than 5 percent of adults in the Netherlands’ general population have an identity other than cisgender3. And in a 2018 study in the United States, 6.5 percent of autistic adolescents and 11.4 percent of autistic adults said they wished to be the gender opposite of what they had been assigned at birth, compared with just 3 to 5 percent of the general population4. This study also found that, on two measures of autism traits, higher scores were associated with a higher likelihood of gender diversity. A 2019 study found a similar association in children who are not diagnosed with autism5.

Similarly, autism appears to be more prevalent among gender-diverse people than it is in the general population. A 2018 Australian survey of transgender adolescents and young adults found that 22.5 percent had been diagnosed with autism, compared with 2.5 percent of all Australians. Some experts estimate that 6 to 25.5 percent of gender-diverse people are autistic6.

Sexuality also appears to be more varied among people with autism than among those who do not have the condition. Only 30 percent of autistic people in a 2018 study identified as heterosexual, compared with 70 percent of neurotypical participants7. And although half of 247 autistic women in a 2020 study identified as cisgender, just 8 percent reported being exclusively heterosexual8.

Why is the prevalence of gender diversity higher in autistic people than in the general population?
Social experiences are likely a main component, experts say. Compared with neurotypical people, autistic people may be less influenced by social norms and so may present their internal selves more authentically. “You could then understand the co-occurrence as perhaps a more honest expression of underlying experiences,” says John Strang, director of the Gender and Autism Program at Children’s National Hospital in Washington, D.C.

It’s possible that autistic people may come to conclusions about their sexual identity differently than neurotypical people do, says Jeroen Dewinter, senior researcher at Tilburg University in the Netherlands. Some autistic people have told him they would be likely to identify as bisexual after one same-sex sexual experience, but neurotypical people may be less likely to adopt that terminology based on a single same-sex encounter.

Biological factors may also play a role. Exposure levels to hormones such as testosterone in the womb may be linked to autism, some research shows; increased prenatal testosterone may also lead to more typically ‘male’ behaviors and to less common sexualities and gender identities, although there is some evidence against that link9,10. Regardless, prenatal testosterone does not explain why autistic people assigned male at birth might identify as more feminine, Dewinter says. But the biology of sexuality and gender in the general population is not well understood either.

Experts say it’s likely that a combination of these and other factors contribute to the increased variety of gender identities and sexualities among autistic people.

What does this mean for clinicians and caregivers?
Clinicians who work in gender clinics may want to screen for autism, and those working in autism clinics may want to discuss gender identity and sexual health, researchers say. They should also be sensitive to different information processing styles, Dewinter says. Some autistic people may struggle to express their feelings regarding gender. Even when they do express these feelings, they often face doubts from clinicians because of stereotypes about autistic people, which can block their access to medical care. In a 2019 paper, one autistic and gender-diverse person wrote, “The combination is seen to be too complex for the majority of clinicians, which led to long waiting times for specialized psychiatric care”11.

Screening tools may also need to be updated to better identify autism among gender-diverse children, just as they need to be adjusted to spot the condition among girls. “Clinics are working to understand what autism looks like in girls and women, and we’re going to have to take that same question with the gender-diverse youth,” Strang says. Identifying autistic children who may need support in affirming their identity is particularly important because some may seek medical interventions, such as puberty blockers, that are time-sensitive, he says.

Clinicians should be aware that autistic people may present their gender identity differently than neurotypical people do. Some autistic people who transition from one gender to another are not aware of how they also need to change their social cues, such as how they dress, if they want to clearly communicate their gender identity to others. Clinicians can help autistic people navigate these transitions and ensure they have the same access to gender-affirming medical care that neurotypical people have, says Aron Janssen, associate professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Northwestern University in Chicago, Illinois.

How do autistic people best learn about gender and sexuality?
For years, many parents and caregivers believed that autistic people, particularly those with intellectual disability, shouldn’t be given information about sexuality and are less interested in relationships than neurotypical people are, Dewinter says. That belief is changing as researchers recognize that providing relationship support is important to ensure the overall well-being of neurodiverse people, just as it is for neurotypical people. Belonging to any kind of minority group makes a person more susceptible to mental health problems, because of a phenomenon known as ‘minority stress.’ For a person who is both neuro- and gender-diverse, belonging to several minority groups can intensify those problems12.

More comprehensive and inclusive sex education can help. In ongoing surveys, Eileen Crehan, assistant professor of child study and human development at Tufts University in Medford, Massachusetts, has found that autistic people want information about sexual orientation and gender identity more than typical people do. Research has shown that lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer/questioning (LGBTQ+) adolescents who have more inclusive sex education in school have better mental health. But only 19 percent of U.S. sex-education materials are LGBTQ+ inclusive, according to the advocacy group GLSEN, creating an extra barrier for autistic LGBTQ+ people. “You have two hoops to jump through to get the information that you need,” Crehan says.

Where is the research going next?
Early research focused on measuring the prevalence of diverse gender identities in the autism community — and vice versa — but now researchers are increasingly turning to questions about how best to support autistic people who are gender-diverse. To do that, they’re working closely with the autistic community, ensuring autistic people guide research priorities. “I really think it’s incredibly important to lift up the voices in the community themselves, and I’m grateful to see that’s where the field is going,” Janssen says.

Complete Article HERE!

What Does it Mean to Be Cisgender?

Here’s What Experts Say

Plus how to check your cis-privilege and be a transgender ally.

By Leah Groth

We all know the most commonly used gender pronouns: she/her and he/him—they refer to a person assigned either male or female at birth, and who continues to identify that way later in life. But there’s another term that’s used to refer to those who continue to identify with the gender they were assigned at birth: cisgender. Here’s what you need to know about that term, including how it compares to sexual orientation, and when (or if) you should use it.

What does cisgender mean?

Cisgender—technically pronounced “sis-gender”—refers to “individuals whose assigned sex at birth is congruent with their gender identity, Christy L. Olezeski, PhD, director of Yale Medicine’s Gender Program, tells Health. The prefix “cis” is actually Latin for “on this side,” according to Merriam-Webster. “Trans,” on the other hand—as in transgender—technically means “on the other side of.

A person assigned female at birth, for example—meaning doctors saw female sex organs or genitalia—and who still identifies as a woman today, is cisgender. The same goes for a person assigned male at birth who currently identifies as a man.

According to Transgender Studies Quarterly, the term was initially created by transgender activists in the 1990s in order to differentiate between cisgender and transgender individuals, without further adding to the marginalization of trans people. “The terms man and woman, left unmarked, tend to normalize cisness—reinforcing the unstated ‘naturalness’ of being cisgender,” the text says, suggesting rather to use identifications like “cis man or “cis woman” alongside “transman” and transwoman.”

It’s important to know, however, that there is a bit of controversy around the term. “Some folx would argue that we should use the term cis- or trans- any time we are identifying people,” Olezeski says. However, “some folx would argue that we should not identify anyone using these, and should instead just identify folx as men, women or non-binary/gender expansive or agender.”

What’s the difference between cisgender and straight?

It’s important to know that gender identity and sexual orientation are two different things. Plainly speaking, gender identity is how someone identifies, and sexual orientation refers to who someone is attracted to. “As someone once said, gender identity is who you go to bed as, while sexual orientation is who you want to go to bed with,” Olezeski says.

That means those who identify as cisgender can fall anywhere on the sexuality spectrum—gay, straight, bisexual, etc.—just as anyone who is transgender, too, can identify with any sexual orientation.

What is cisgender privilege, and how can you work against it?

In an article published in the Journal of International and Intercultural Communication, Julia R. Johnson, PhD, explains that “cisgender privilege is given to persons whose morphology aligns with socially-sanctioned gender categories.” It has been well established that those who do not identify as cisgender—namely transgender people—experience discrimination on many levels.

Johnson’s article outlines a few different examples of what cisgender privilege can look like: “Some forms of cisgender privilege include: Having a government-issued identification that accurately represents one’s identity; not being ‘‘asked . . . what my genitals look like, or whether or not my breasts are real, what medical procedures I have had’’; not being forced ‘‘to adopt a different gender presentation’’ or denied medical care; or being refused ‘‘access to, and fair treatment within, sex segregated facilities’’ such as bathrooms, homeless shelters, prisons, and domestic violence shelters.”

In order to confront our own cisgender privileges—and therefore become a transgender ally, or cisgender person working to fight for the rights of the transgender community—Johnson argues that we have to examine not only our own interactions and relationships, but also structural dynamics used to continue the oppression of transgender individuals.

It’s also essential to educate yourself regarding issues that those in the transgender community face, to speak up against comments or actions that marginalize trans people, and to always remember to use someone’s appropriate pronouns, since trans people are often either misgendered or deadnamed (if you’re not sure how to do this, the easiest way is to share your own pronouns and ask for theirs).

Complete Article HERE!

What the Falwell saga tells us about evangelicals and gender roles

A Falwell from grace for Jerry and Becki?

BY

Jerry Falwell Jr. may well be wishing that a photo with his underwear showing and his arm around the waist of a woman not his wife was the worst of his problems.

That snapshot kick-started a round of speculation into the prominent evangelical leader’s personal life that has cost him his job. On Aug. 25, Falwell confirmed that he has resigned his presidency at Liberty University.

His resignation comes after allegations in multiple news outlets that Falwell and his wife, Becki, were both engaged in a seven-year sexual relationship with a young man named Giancarlo Granda.

‘Not involved’

Granda told Reuters that the sexual relationship involved both Falwells. He claims he had sex with Becki while Jerry Falwell watched from the corner of the room. Jerry Falwell Jr. disputes the allegations. In a statement to the Washington Examiner, Falwell said: “Becki had an inappropriate personal relationship with this person, something in which I was not involved.”

In other words, it’s Becki’s fault.

From my vantage point as a scholar who studies religion and gender, this comment from Falwell is revealing.

How male public figures react to a sex scandal can be a very complex process. In trying to preserve what is left of their reputations, my research indicates that they will often attempt to prove that they remain a “real man” – both a loving, devoted husband and a strong, virile leader. This behavior makes sense when one understands the conservative Christian gender roles that inspire them.

Under conservative Christian gender norms, men are described not only as naturally sexual, but also as divinely designed to be far more sexual than women. In fact, male sexuality is often depicted as out of control. The point of marriage, many evangelicals claim, is to harness that male sexuality so that it is productive rather than wild and unbounded.

This view of marriage may strike many as archaic, but these ideas nevertheless permeate part of American culture – one can see it in the “boys will be boys” defense of bad male behavior.

Such ideas also strongly influence how large swaths of the public tend to view sex scandals. Generally speaking, while the public holds the offending politician responsible, they are also often eager to condemn other figures who were involved for leading him astray.

More specifically, my research shows that women who are in any way associated with sex scandals are much more likely to be demonized or blamed for the sexual incident in question. Even when they are the innocent party, they can be portrayed as power-hungry strategists who stayed in a bad marriage to elevate themselves or enablers who give all women a bad name by sticking up for another adulterer.

And as scholar Amy DeRogatis has shown, if a woman is sexual outside of marriage, she is often described by evangelicals as compromising the “gift” of her sexuality intended for her husband. Giving her sexuality to someone else sacrifices her future capacity for intimacy, it is argued.

At the same time, some evangelicals claim that a wide number of marital problems stem from the fact that women do not provide their husbands with enough sex.

In this particular subculture, everything from men’s self-esteem to their job performance can be linked to the frequency and quality of their sexual encounters. In this way of thinking, when men have problems, their wives’ sexual attitudes and behaviors are often to blame.

Demonization of women

Negative stereotypes often extend to all women involved in a sex scandal, no matter whether any sexual contact actually happened nor whether the act in question was consensual.

For instance, Paula Jones and Anita Hill both claimed to have been the victims of sexual harassment, at the hands of Bill Clinton and Clarence Thomas, respectively.

In the case of both women, elaborate sexual stories were concocted by critics of all political stripes. These stories were then adopted more broadly by the general public to portray them as immoral women who must have been at least partially responsible for the sexualized encounters they experienced with two prominent figures.

The case of Paula Broadwell is also instructive. Broadwell was the lover of Gen. David Petraeus, one-time director of the CIA. While both Broadwell and Petraeus admitted to a consensual affair while married to other people, Broadwell’s ethics were called into question in a way that Petraeus did not experience.

In short, there is a pattern in American culture of finding fault with the woman in a sex scandal. Falwell’s response falls in line with this pattern.

But there is another aspect of Granda’s allegations that deserves attention when looking at the response to the scandal. In Granda’s telling – again, which has been denied by Jerry Falwell – the evangelical leader watched the sexual encounters between Granda and Becki but did not actively participate.

As scholar Joshua Gamson has shown, men whose sexual violations do not involve actual intercourse – for example sexting, as in the case with disgraced New York politician Anthony Weiner – are often portrayed as less masculine, even silly, for failing to “do the deed.”

Chance of redemption?

What we are watching play out before us with the Falwells is a study of conservative gender norms.

If Falwell can convincingly argue that the fault lies entirely with his wife, then this well-worn story might give him the chance to redeem himself at some point in the future. After all, in this version of events, he can maintain the appearance of a loving husband and father who has some integrity.

On the other hand, being the man who “watched from the corner of the room” fulfills neither the devoted family man role nor that of the virile, powerful husband. If this is the narrative that is ultimately adopted, then the path back to redemption in the eyes of the evangelical public is harder to imagine.

Complete Article HERE!

Sexual Orientation And Gender Identity Are Not The Same

by Dyuti Gupta

There are a lot of people out there who are confused as to how sexual orientation is different from gender identity, myself having been one of them for the longest time. It’s a common misconception that both are connected when they are really not. In fact, the meanings of these two terms don’t even intersect at any given point. For example, many people automatically assume that if someone is a transgender person, they must also be gay. However, that is not the case. So what exactly is the difference between gender identity and sexual orientation?

What Is Gender Identity?

According to the Human Rights Campaign, gender identity is defined as the “innermost concept of self as male, female, a combination of both or neither–how individuals perceive themselves and accordingly, what they call themselves.” In layman language, gender identity is one’s internal and personal sense of being a female, male or as someone outside of that binary. There are more than a dozen of genders, outside of just man or woman, that people can identify with. One can be gender-neutral, non-binary, agender, pangender, genderqueer, two-spirit, third gender, and all, none or a combination of these. People’s gender identity can mirror what they were assigned at birth, or be entirely different. And accordingly, they might or might not want to be referred to with certain pronouns—it all really depends on what they identify as.

Usually, cisgender is the umbrella term used to describe people whose sense of personal identity and gender corresponds with their chromosomal and phenotypic sex, while transgender is the larger umbrella term used to describe people whose sense of personal identity does not correspond with the sex assigned to them at birth.

What Is Sexual Orientation?

According to the Human Rights Campaign, sexual orientation is defined as the “inherent or immutable enduring emotional, romantic or sexual attraction to other people.” In simpler terms, it’s who one is interested in dating and being intimate with. A person might identify as straight, bisexual, pansexual, queer, asexual or use a host of other words that reflect their capacity to be attracted to more than one sex or gender or to not feel sexual attraction at all. Sexuality is a complex phenomenon and attraction can manifest very differently for different people. This emerging language illuminates a complex world in which simple either/or designations such as gay or straight are inadequate. Categories are commonly used to understand our attractions, but they aren’t always inclusive of the vast variety of expression that makes up human sexuality. Hence, one would notice that the language about sexuality is constantly evolving.

The Difference

Perhaps no one can put the difference between sexual orientation and gender identity in simpler terms than the Youtuber Brendan Jordan who identifies as gender fluid: “[Sexual Orientaion] is who you go to bed with, but gender identity is who you go to bed as.” Sexual orientation really doesn’t have anything to do with gender. Therefore, the next time you meet someone who identifies outside the binary system, don’t ask questions like, “because you don’t identify as a female, does that mean that you’re gay?” “How can you be straight when you identify as a transgender?”

People having different sexual orientations, i.e. who are straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, asexual, etc., are cisgenders if they identify themselves as the birth sex assigned to them. On the other hand, transgender people can be straight, lesbian, gay, bisexual, and so on. For example, a person who has transitioned from the gender identity of a male to a female and is attracted solely to men would typically identify as straight as far as their sexual orientation is concerned. The truth is that both gender and sexual orientation are essential components of who we are, and how we live our lives. But even so, the two, in any scenario, are not the same, and that’s a crucial fact we need to remember.

Complete Article HERE!

‘We are taboo everywhere’

— How LGBTIQ+ people, and their children, become stateless

By

No child should be denied her rights because her parents are LGBTIQ+, and no family should have to endure the indignity we did.

These are the words of Roee and Adiel Kiviti, a same-sex married couple who recently won a legal challenge against the US Department of State for refusing to consider their daughter an American citizen.

Both men are US citizens, but their daughter was born in Canada through surrogacy. The State Department considers such children of same-sex couples to be “born out of wedlock”, irrespective of the marital status of the parents. For the Kivitis, this meant their daughter was denied the automatic citizenship normally granted to the children of US citizens.

This isn’t just a singular case. For many children born to same-sex couples through international surrogacy, there is a risk they could become stateless — unable to gain citizenship in the country where they were born, or their parents’ home countries.

Immigration Equality, an LGBTIQ+ immigrant rights organisation in the US, says there is a

new double standard for citizenship: one for the children of gay couples and one for the children of straight couples.

What does statelessness mean?

Statelessness is defined under international law as not being recognised as a citizen by any of the world’s 195 recognised states. According to the UN’s conservative estimate, there are some 12 million stateless people globally.

In practical terms, stateless people face many challenges due to their lack of citizenship. While these differ significantly from one context to the next, common experiences include the inability to access vital services (such as education and health care), move freely, own property and simply prove one’s identity.

Cases like the Kivitis’ daughter have brought high-profile attention to the risk of statelessness associated with LGBTIQ+ parenting situations.

Similar cases have been compiled by campaigners in Europe, where litigation is also underway.

An Irish-Polish lesbian couple, for instance, gave birth to a daughter through IVF in Spain in 2018. The girl, Sofia, is currently stateless because neither woman’s country will recognise her right to citizenship. Her Spanish citizenship is still pending.

And before international commercial surrogacy arrangements were banned in India and Thailand, the children of many same-sex couples born in these countries were at risk of statelessness.

However, statelessness is also a problem that LGBTIQ+ people themselves may face. My recently published research has identified scores of stateless LGBTIQ+ people around the world.

Stateless LGBTIQ+ people face double marginalisation

Why do we hear so little about their experiences? Indeed, this was the question that motivated me to study the links between statelessness and sexual orientation, gender identity and expression, and sex characteristics (relating to a person’s physical sexual anatomy).

Having worked on statelessness for the last decade, I have attended many conferences with little consideration given to LGBTIQ+ people. In contrast, much research has been conducted on the experiences of LGBTIQ+ refugees and asylum seekers.

As Eliana Rubashkyn, an intersex person from Colombia who experienced years of statelessness before receiving asylum and citizenship in New Zealand, explained to me:

Nobody talks about our case because we are taboo everywhere. Yet it is a chronic violation of human rights.

My research highlights that stateless LGBTIQ+ people often face a significant double marginalisation. They are discriminated because of their sexuality or gender expression, as well as their lack of documentation.

For example, one stateless queer man in Lebanon described fears of being arrested on grounds of public immorality (a common charge against the LGBTIQ+ community) and lacking the necessary paperwork to establish his identity. While he is not the only stateless person in his family (due to gender discrimination in Lebanese citizenship law), the risks are compounded in his case.

It goes without saying that being stateless can also make any problem I encounter due to my sexual orientation and gender identity much worse. And vice versa.

While no statistics are available, for some LGBTIQ+ people, discrimination is what caused them to become stateless in the first place.

They can lose their citizenship due to complex laws that do not recognise LGBTIQ+ marriages and relationships across countries. There is also a patchwork of different laws recognising sex and gender transitions, which can be especially problematic for trans and intersex individuals.

This was the case for Rubashkyn, who no longer resembled her passport photo following hormone treatment and became stranded in Hong Kong’s airport six years ago.

Desperate to prevent officials from deporting her back to Colombia, where she had suffered persecution, she ultimately renounced her Colombian citizenship, making herself stateless. She was later resettled in New Zealand and gained citizenship in 2018.

Asylum requests are often denied

Within asylum contexts, research shows both statelessness and LGBTIQ+ situations are often missed or misunderstood during the process of assessing claims for protection.

For instance, one transsexual interviewee from my research explained

the various intersecting elements of my narrative seemed to confuse the asylum officials who wanted to understand my experience through a singular lens. I tried to explain but they did not appear convinced.

 

The lack of attention paid to “rainbow statelessness” in the media and policy debates may further lead governments to question the credibility of statements made by stateless LGBTIQ+ asylum seekers.

This is why it’s critical to bring more attention to the links between statelessness and sexual orientation or gender identity.

Better understanding this intersection is necessary to improve laws and policies that discriminate against LGBTIQ+ people, and sometimes render them, or their children, stateless.

Complete Article HERE!

Exploring the common misconceptions regarding trans and non-binary identities

Eight reasons why anti-trans rants are unscientific.

By Hannah Seo

Last month, a series of anti-trans tweets by author J.K. Rowling incited a maelstrom of anger, pain, and indignation. Specifically, Rowling opposed the phrase “people who menstruate” in an article, commenting on the social media platform, “I’m sure there used to be a word for those people … Wumben?”

In her tweets, Rowling has perpetuated several common misconceptions about trans people, many of which actively hurt and harm the trans community. Here’s a breakdown of some common misconceptions and why they’re harmful.

Gender and sex are not the same thing

Sex is usually determined by a doctor shortly after birth based on the external genitalia you have, and even then it’s not so clean cut. Estimates suggest that 1 to 2 percent of all people in the US are intersex, meaning their bodies don’t fall neatly inside the male/female binary: Their gonads, genitalia, and hormones don’t necessarily match in sex characteristics.

Gender identity is less clinical and more focused on how an individual views themself. Human Rights Campaign defines gender identity as “one’s innermost concept of self as male, female, a blend of both, or neither—how individuals perceive themselves and what they call themselves.”

Gender presentation is how an individual chooses to look and show their identity through their appearance. How a person presents themself is separate to the gender they identify with—and trans individuals do not need to dress hyper-feminene of hyper-masculine to prove their gender identity.

“We still have that binary mindset of what a man and what a woman should look like. Then we have the additional layer of what a trans woman should look like and what a trans man should look like, and there’s often not a lot of space in between,” says Hansel Arroyo, a psychiatrist at Mount Sinai’s Center for Transgender Medicine and Surgery. He says being trans does not require adhering to stereotypical experiences: A trans woman dressed in typically ‘masculine’ clothing is still a woman.

Hormones are not sex specific

“Sex hormones” are a myth, says Katie Spencer, an assistant professor at the University of Minnesota who researches human sexuality and co-directs the National Center for Gender Spectrum Health in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Cis men have estrogen and cis women have testosterone, not to mention the wide variability among intersex individuals—”we all have sort of a blend of them in our bodies.”
Naturally variable hormone levels have been the center of controversy in competitive sports. For example, track-and-field star Caster Semenya has been scrutinized throughout her career because of her naturally high testosterone levels. Researcher Joanna Harper recently told Popular Science that we still don’t fully understand how all hormones affect athletic performance.

Spencer adds that there are plenty of trans people who don’t take hormones or have surgery just as there are plenty of cisgendered people who do need supplemental hormones, whether it’s for symptoms related to menopause, mediating sex-drive, or to prevent hair loss. So the perception that trans people taking hormones is evidence of something wrong or unnatural is completely moot, she says. What’s more, safe access to hormones is a public health issue: Hormone therapy can already increase your risk of heart attack, but taking hormones from unreliable black market sources means you’re never really sure how much of a hormone you’re taking, and that can result in serious medical issues, like kidney failure.

Cisgendered women are not the only people who can menstruate and get pregnant

“Lots of bodies menstruate,” says Spencer. There are some trans men and non-binary people who menstruate and get pregnant. On the other hand, there are plenty of cisgendered women who don’t menstruate. Menopause and other conditions like polycystic ovarian syndrome or uterine disorders can prevent regular cycles. To conflate menstruation with womanhood is wrong and offensive, says Spencer. Moreover, she says, it’s medically dangerous. 

Awareness of obstetric and gynecological care for men and non-binary folk is important, because their experiences are still poorly documented and understudied. That “time of the month” can come with a big psychological toll for some. One study of pregnant trans men found that trans men remain highly motivated to get pregnant at the prospect of fatherhood, despite the lack of information and support available to them. Another study shows that some trans men experience extreme isolation and body dysphoria during pregnancy.

Awareness of obstetric and gynecological care for men and non-binary folk is important, because their experiences are still poorly documented and understudied.

Access to the care they need to transition is crucial for trans folk and their mental health, says Arroyo. When they receive appropriate, thoughtful care, trans individuals have better mental health and are more likely to feel safe and satisfied with their care. Interfering with an individual’s ability to live their full life or to prevent them from having dysphoric feelings, he says, is awful.

Trans existence is not new

“Trans people have always existed,” says Jesse Pratt López, a photographer, activist, and proud trans woman who notably started a GoFundMe for homeless Black trans women.

For example, before Europeans reached North America, many Native American tribes had third gender roles. Indigenous groups to this day have many different names for people across the non-binary spectrum.

“Looking at past populations, from historical documents to archaeological artifacts, graves, funerary goods and skeletons, we know that the binary that we think of as gender being male or female didn’t exist in all populations—and we know it still doesn’t exist in all populations today,” says Sabrina Agarwal, a bioarchaeologist and anthropologist at UC Berkeley. “We have evidence of gender and sexuality fluidity across human cultures from even prehistoric times—from ancient Egypt, Mesoamerican, the Inca, Southeast Asia, and even in the earliest Mesopotamaian writing tablets.”

A lot of the archaeological record supports a long history of gender fluidity, Agarwal says. One way to see that is to look at grave sites. By analyzing a skeleton archaeologists can infer a person’s sex, but that sex does not necessarily match up with the gendered artifacts they find at the person’s grave site, she explains. This could be because the individual lived outside of the gender binary.

Suppressing “deviations” from what’s considered normal is an invention of white colonization, says Pratt López, and so framing transness as a new phenomenon is deceptive and wrong. When white colonizers moved in on communities around the world they forcibly brought with them tenets of sex and gender binaries.

Agarwal agrees. She says that “these ideas of a gender binary are a Western-centric perception—the white settler’s idea of how things are divided.” A noted example she has studied are the hijras, a term that includes transgender and intersex individuals, and eunuchs. South Asia has long recognized them, she says, but when British colonialists came in, they targeted and criminalized the hijra. They still face echoes of that stigma today, though India recently gave the hijra legal recognition as a third gender.

When you consider the record of gender fluidity in the world throughout history, Pratt López says, it becomes impossible to separate trans oppression from colonization.

Genitalia is not the only thing that matters in attraction and sexuality

Trans sexuality is a particularly frustrating misconception to talk about, says Pratt López. However, she says it’s difficult to pinpoint what is so hard for folks to understand. She puts forth this hypothetical situation: If a heterosexual man who is only attracted to women sleeps with a trans woman, the common public response to that kind of relationship is usually, “He must be gay” rather than, “She must be a woman.”

Further, sex and gender are not the only reasons people become attracted to one another. “People are attracted to people on multiple levels,” says Katie Spencer. “Bodies are a part of that, and gender is a part of that, but they’re not the whole picture.” You’re not attracted to someone because of their genitals in any relationship, says Spencer, so reducing trans people and trans attraction to genitals makes no sense.

Transitions aren’t the same for everyone

“Transness, like anything, is a spectrum,” says Pratt López. She notes that how a person chooses to transition, and how they want to present themselves during this time, should occur on their terms: “Trans people don’t have to have any surgeries or take hormones in order to be the gender that they are.”

Conversion therapy is dangerous and does not work.

Rowling has also insinuated that queer youth are being “shunted towards hormones and surgery,” calling it “a new kind of conversion therapy for young gay people.” Contrary to what the author claims, helping trans youth understand their identities, and meeting them where they are is pivotal to closing mental and physical health disparities between trans and cis youth.

“There are people who would oppose somebody who is trans from getting appropriate medical services, whether hormone therapy or surgery, and I would encourage them to look at the health outcomes,” says Arroyo. The health disparity between cis and trans communities is frighteningly large, he says, but we see in our patients and in the research that providing support to both youth and adults can help close those gaps.

Conversion therapy, a category of discredited practices that aim to conform a person’s sexuality or gender identity to the societal norm or expectation, on the other hand, is dangerous and does not work. The UN has called it a “‘cure’ for an illness that does not exist.” Comparing transitioning to conversion therapy is a baseless analogy that does not hold up.

We often think of transitioning as going from one stereotypical side of the gender spectrum to the other, Arroyo says, but thinking about transitions as crossing a binary is inaccurate. A transition can mean different things to different individuals: Some trans folk may only want to transition by way of clothing and expression, while others might want to go as far as hormone therapy or surgery. There is no set end goal to a transition, no final destination. “It is not for me to say that one person’s way of expressing their gender is a transition or is not a transition,” says Arroyo. “And I think that’s a good reminder for us as medical providers—that it’s not for us to determine what transitioning is, but it’s for the individual to discover what transition is to them.”

How to be a better ally for trans people 

Trans individuals, and especially trans women of color, are disproportionately victims of violence. As of July 27, 22 transgender or gender non-conforming people have been violently killed in 2020 alone. 16 of them (76 percent) were people of color.

“Here we are, in 2020, still begging and pleading for people to see our humanity,” says Milan Nicole Sherry, a trans activist from New Orleans who organizes the city’s NOLA Trans March of Resilience and created the hashtag #blacktranslivesmatter. She says that instead of complacent allies, they need active accomplices who speak with their actions—those who will not only stand with trans people, but walk with them and protect them, too.

Ask yourself, “how can I show up?” and ask your trans friends, “how can I help you and trans people?”, says Sherry. If you phrase it in a direct way, then you are more likely to get a direct answer.

Being an accomplice, as Sherry puts it, could mean joining them in protest, volunteering at a clinic or youth organization, or even just talking to those around you who are ignorant about trans people—all of it contributes to a movement towards acceptance.

Any and all action is impactful, especially during a time when celebrity authors and government agencies try to invalidate the trans community based on false interpretations of biology.

Complete Article HERE!

From Top to Bottom: Heteronormativity & Queer Relationships

By Raymond Matthews

Back in my day as a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed freshman, one fateful night the Universe (and a generous helping of Kirkland Vodka) guided my friends and I to a party on DP which we were assured would “pop off” any minute. We awkwardly stood in a circle, red Solo cups in hand, swaying to “Sicko Mode,” when we noticed a stray bro wandering toward us.

To set the stage, he was five Natty Lites in, and he’d adopted a Scottish accent while wearing a Texas University shirt and American flag shorts (a multicultural icon). After staring at me for a solid minute, off-brand Shrek asked me a question: “Are ye gay mate??”

I laughed it off and said yes, thinking that was that, but no, discount Braveheart wanted me to give him a deep dive into the gay lifestyle, the likes of which I hadn’t seen since my high school musical theater days.

“Are you a top or a bottom? Like, if you’re with another dude are you more like the girl or the guy?” he asked.

This may sound outlandish and I’ll admit I haven’t run into any drunk wannabe Scotsmen before or since, but the “top or bottom/girl or guy” question is one queer people hear quite often. Most queer people (myself included) find this question insulting because when straight people ask it, they’re asking you to validate yourself by mimicking straight romance and sexuality.

I’ll admit that for some, it can be comforting and familiar to understand yourself in terms of an unambiguous masculine/feminine framework, but the beauty of queerness is in its ambiguity. It offers the freedom to explore gender and sexuality without imitating straightness, because by definition queerness is a rejection of straight traditions.

This is to say that queerness is not an oddball parody of heterosexuality, but its own set of gender and sexual identities, making it impossible to “straighten out” in order to emulate heterosexuality.

It’s worth noting that this mindset is not exclusive to straight people; many queer people impose these dynamics on themselves because of pressure to perform gender, sexuality, and romance in palatable, familiar ways.

Many modern depictions of sex and romance are told from straight perspectives, which can cause queer people to internalize implicit messages that the only romantic and sexual experiences worth having must include a sharp masculine and feminine contrast. While there’s nothing wrong with enjoying masculine and feminine dynamics in your relationships, it’s important to remember that there are other — equally fulfilling — ways to enjoy sex and romance.

Feminine people often have feminine partners, masculine people have masculine partners, genderfluid people have genderfluid partners, and so on and so forth. These relationships are just as fulfilling as the more traditional masculine/feminine paradigm, and allowing yourself to choose which dynamic works for you rather than blindly following “normal” gender dynamics will likely make your relationships more authentic and enjoyable.

On the surface, most queer people hate the “top or bottom” question because it’s rude and creepy for someone to ask intimate questions about your sexual preferences out of the blue.

But on a deeper level, this question is insulting because using someone’s gender expression to determine their sexual role (or vice versa) is laughable. There are feminine tops, masculine bottoms, and everything in between. This can even go beyond queer relationships, as it would be laughable to assume that all straight couples act the exact same way in bed together based solely on their gender.

The main issue with all this is that romance and sexuality — whether queer or straight — is not a black-and-white Etch A Sketch. It’s a messy, multi-colored Picasso painting; you can try to make logical sense of it but it’s best to appreciate it for its disjointed, avant-garde beauty.

Complete Article HERE!

Stuck in the middle

Growing into my identity

As an empathic perfectionist, conflicts stung me. I used to perceive any conflict as a reflection of my flawed character. It took years of inner wrestling to understand that conflicts were opportunities to grow, not threatening, but nurturing in their tumult.

All too often, humans keep to their comfortable spaces, unwilling to engage in a conflict with those who differ. I do not have that luxury, nor do I want it. I open myself up to you today to push the conversation of sexual identity and religion, not as a destabilizing conflict, but rather a nurturing discussion that extends a welcome to all beliefs and identities.

I felt alienated in religious settings where my questions about the Bible and its origins were dismissed as irrelevant or spiritually weak, and as I learned more in school about the uses of the Bible to validate atrocities throughout history, I lost trust in my religious communities because the Bible wasn’t considered in its historical context or its imperfect translations. Specifically, I remember staying up one night at Christian camp reading Genesis 3, and as I read verse 16 in its NIV translation, “Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.” I cried without really knowing why.

Until, that is, I read Wilda Gafney’s womanist interpretation. In “Womanist Midrash,” the pain of that passage healed as she explored how the Spirit of God uses she/her pronouns in the Biblical Hebrew; how it describes an androgynous being, not Adam but rather the adam, referring to humankind that is then split in two; how “over” translated to “in” and “with” more often, reading instead “he shall rule with you.”

When I stopped living in fear and started letting go and opening myself up to conversations around religion, I found space to wrestle with my identity, my God, and their Scripture, leading me to where I stand today as a bisexual, Christian, cisgender woman.

I may have known my identity for awhile now, but only until recently have I found a sense of representation and visibility through my studies of queer and feminist biblical scholarship. With help from the class “Gender, Sex, and Religion,” I was exposed to multiple approaches to the Bible beyond just traditional biblical studies.

“I think [including more perspectives] just makes for more accurate, more representative, more interesting scholarship,” Mika Ahuvia, an assistant professor at the Jackson School of International Studies, said.] “The more [people] are looking at a text, the more nuances they notice.”

It turns out that biblical authors had no language for sexual orientation and gender identity, but rather viewed sex and gender within patriarchal constructs motivated over the years by different political, religous, and socioeconomic influences.

When the topic of “homosexuality” did arise in the religious circles at youth groups or summer camp, I was told that the Holiness Code of Leviticus in Scripture not only addresses it, but condemns it. Never, however, was I told during these conversations of its historical context, where it fails to mention how these laws merely condemned sodomy — non-procreational sexual acts — not homesexuality itself, nor did anyone explain the cultural beliefs that influenced these laws.

In biblical Israel, there was a cultural necessity to understand the religious and social significance of their bodies and so, procreation was viewed synonymously to achieving immortality and wasting semen was thought to be impure and harmful because it was believed to hold the most crucial role in reproduction.

By exposing myself in a variety of knowledgeable, heavily researched interpretations, queer and feminist biblical scholarship specifically equipped me with a platform and the language to heal. Whether it’s the deconstruction of gender and patriarchy through reinterpreted creation stories in Genesis or the contextualized and researched approach to the Holiness Code of Leviticus, biblical scholarship redefined my relationship with the Bible and deepened my understanding of its authors and how interpretations changed with time, and how they were shaped by and influenced societal constructs of gender and sex.

Regardless, the search for community as a queer Christian continues. Whether it was my faith in secular communities or my sexuality in religious ones, I still don’t know where I belong, a feeling all too familiar in my experience between straight and LGBTQIA+ communities.

While we may be the “B” in LGBTQIA+, the bisexual community still faces health disparities and stereotypes from straight and queer communities for a variety of reasons.

“Our research has found that bisexual people do experience many health disparities, both in Washington state as well as nationally,” Karen Fredriksen Goldsen, a professor in the School of Social Work, said. “For example, we found that bisexual women compared to lesbians have higher rates of disability and are more likely to experience disability at earlier ages

Fredriksen Goldsen especially noted the community’s lack of visibility, where an “increase in visibility could create opportunities to further build and expand communities” as well as reduce stigmas.

“As we recognize bisexual lives, we can begin to understand their distinct experiences,” Fredriksen Goldsen said. “Our research has documented many disparities as well as strengths in this community, as bi people are resilient.”

At the intersection of religious, secular, straight, and LGBTQIA+ communities, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that the majority of these communities and the unique individuals within them don’t know how to interact with each other. As someone on the receiving end, the lack of dialogue between these diverse communities lends its hand to miseducation, stigmatization, and polarization.

When Ahuvia started teaching “Gender, Sex, and Religion,” she noted that the biggest gap she felt like she had to overcome was between the secular and religious students. Now, four years later, it’s shifted.

Silence and invisibility serve no one, so I will never refuse the challenge to uproot what I hold true, wrestle with it, learn, and grow.

Complete Article HERE!

The Queer Lingo Dictionary

By Quinn Mathys

While some of the terms used in this edition may be known throughout parts of the queer community, not everyone — not even all queer people — may know their definitions. To help further the conversation, we have created this section so that you may reference it as needed as you read through the pieces. Words have power, and it’s important to understand what they communicate — all of their messages, the emotions with them, as well as their direct definitions.

AGAB — (acronym) stands for “assigned gender at birth,” a term trans* people may use to identify who were born in male (AMAB) or female (AFAB) bodies

Aromantic — (adj.) a person who doesn’t experience romantic attraction but may still experience sexual attraction. To read more about this, check out our piece on the Split Attraction Model (SAM).

Cisgender (sometimes shortened to “cis”) — (adj.) someone who identifies with the gender they were assigned at birth

Cishet — (adj.) a cisgender heterosexual person

Cisexism — (noun) prejudice or discrimination against trans* people

Closeted — (adj.) used to describe someone who is not open about their queer sexuality or non-cis gender identity

Coming out — (verbal phrase) the act of a person revealing their queer sexuality or non-cis gender identity

Cross-dressing — (noun) the act of wearing clothes and presenting as another gender, not to be confused with identifying as that gender

Equal protection — (noun) a clause included in the 14th amendment that keeps any governing body from denying its citizens equal protection

Femme — (adj.) presenting or acting in a way that is traditionally feminine, regardless of the person’s gender identity

Gay — (adj.) a person who is romantically or sexually attracted to others of the same gender, sometimes used as an informal umbrella term to refer to members of the entire LGBTQ+ community

Gender (as opposed to sex) — (noun) a social construct relating to expectations of behavior, characteristics and thoughts; commonly confused with “sex,” which is usually assigned by doctors at birth based on a person’s genitalia or their chromosomes

Gender expression —(noun) the way that a person chooses to present their gender identity

Gender-nonconforming — (adj.) a term used to describe someone who does not follow the traditional gender norms of the gender they were assigned at birth

Heteronormative — (adj.) an action or belief that pushes heterosexuality as the normal or preferred sexual orientation

Heterosexism — (noun) prejudice or discrimination against people who are not heterosexual

Homosexual — (noun) someone who is sexually attracted to people of the same gender; however, this label carries a negative connotation, as it has been used as a clinical term to discriminate against gay people.

Intersectionality — (noun) the different aspects of identity (race, gender, sexual orientation, ability, etc.) as they apply to an individual or a group of people; these social categories overlap in interdependent systems of discrimination

Masc — (adj.) presenting or acting in a way that is traditionally masculine, regardless of the person’s gender identity

Orientation — (noun) the determination of how one person relates to someone else (i.e., romantic orientation or sexual orientation). Gender identity is not an orientation.

Outing — (verb) the act of revealing a closeted person’s queer sexuality or non-cis gender identity, which should only be done with the permission of said person. Outing someone without their permission is a violation of their trust and is highly frowned on.

Phobia (as in homophobia/biphobia/transphobia/aphobia/etc.) — (noun) dislike or prejudice against gay/bisexual/trans*/asexual individuals, more obvious or direct than heterosexism or cissexism

Queer — (adj.) a person who is a part of the LGBTQ+ community

Spectrum — (noun) a range between two opposite points (i.e., the gender spectrum), but it is more commonly used in reference to autism spectrum disorder (ASD)

They/them/their — (pronouns) the most common singular gender neutral pronouns in the English language, which have been used since the 14th century

Trans* — (adj.) people who do not identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. The asterisk acknowledges there are people who may not feel like the term “trans” or “transgender” accurately applies to them, and its placement shows that those other identities are being included in the discussion.

Trans panic — (noun) an excuse that can be used by the accused to get a lighter sentence in a court of law if the accused has murdered a trans* person.

Complete Article HERE!

Why These Sexual Health Educators Took Their Activism Online

Education can be radical.

by Gretchen Brown

Sonalee Rashatwar believes education can be radical.

“Any time we are giving someone information about their own body, we are informing them about their rights, and that’s political,” she said.

“It destabilizes the structure when I tell someone they don’t have to opt into it.”

Rashatwar is a clinical social worker, sex therapist and grassroots organizer.

Known under the Instagram handle TheFatSexTherapist, she also works as a public speaker and sex educator.

She does this through her own lens as a person who is queer, south Asian and fat. Much of that means sharing her own personal story — experiences with dieting and sexual trauma, bifobia, fatphobia and xenophobia.

“I’m not generalizing, I’m not universalizing, and I’m allowing folks to map onto my narrative the parts of their own lived experience,” Rashatwar said.

That’s not the kind of sex education you typically get in schools. It wasn’t what Rashatwar grew up with either.

Sonalee Rashatwar is a clinical social worker, sex therapist and grassroots organizer.

Her teachers taught with the assumption that most people having sex were cisgendered, heterosexual, able-bodied, thin and white. There wasn’t information about sexuality, or gender identity or different body types.

Only eight U.S. states require that sex education programs be free from racial or gender bias, and only eight mandate that programs include information about sexual orientations.

“Sex has routinely been thought of as something that doesn’t happen pleasurably to people who look like me,” she said.

But there’s a new class of sex educators like Rashatwar — on the internet and beyond — who have flipped the script on sex education.

They teach it as a justice movement, as activism, as personal. And they include folks and identities that had previously been left out of the conversation.

Normalizing sexuality

Research suggests that many adolescents look to the internet for more information about sexuality.

Toronto-based sex educator Eva Bloom grew up on Youtube channels like “Sexplanations,” famous for their warm, casual and non-judgemental tone.

She’s always used the internet to fill in the gaps.

So when she became a sex educator herself — complete with her own YouTube channel, “What’s My Body Doing?” — it was a tone she wanted to emulate.

But Bloom is also a researcher, and just finished her Master’s degree in July, with an emphasis on sexting. She brings a distinct, research-based approach to her videos, many focusing on queer youth, like Bloom herself.

Eva Bloom is a Toronto-based sex educator.

She also talks about something that’s ignored in the classroom — pleasure.

“I talk about sex toys, I talk about kink,” she said. “And I try to really normalize and approach all of that with curiosity and excitement.”

Along with Nadine Thornhill, Bloom also hosts a Youtube series for kids, “Sex-ed School,” which has episodes on consent, gender identity, sexual orientation and masturbation.

“There’s one comment that sticks in my mind: ‘I’m really excited I can share this with my nonbinary kid,’” Bloom said.

Their goal is to make episodes that are normalizing, not dramatic. Think: the opposite of the sex educator in the film “Mean Girls.”

Thornhill and Bloom take into account that many kids already have knowledge about sex and sexuality. So the kids are the center of the show, and it’s about hearing from them, more than talking at them.

Access as justice

For some young people in the U.S., the internet is their only resource for sexual health. Many teens don’t get sex education at all.

Only 24 U.S. states require sex education, and only 20 require that it be “medically, factually or technically accurate.”

Haylin Belay grew up in Texas, a state where sex education is abstinence-only. So her career began as a teenager, as a youth intern and peer educator through GSA, a student-run organization for LGBTQ+ youth and straight allies.

A decade later, she’s still teaching sex education — often to adults who never had that education and are feeling that gap as they try to navigate their sexuality.

“They’re not new to sex, but they never had an opportunity to learn, ‘Here’s how your body experiences pleasure, here’s what you can learn if you are uncomfortable experiencing sex,’” said Belay, now based in New York.

Haylin Belay is a New York-based sex educator.

“… Just understanding how their body works, you can see the light go off in their eyes.”

She teaches with the manifesto, “all people deserve an integrated sex life and the healthy pursuit of pleasure.”

“Access to this information is a form of justice, it is a right, and it’s unsurprising that it’s a lesson that I was able to learn in high school through working with a queer organization,” she said.

Whether she’s going into a classroom and talking to young people about how to be sexually responsible adults, or teaching workshops about communication to adults in a sex shop, it’s liberation, she said — work that started with the reproductive justice movement in the 1990s.

So while she doesn’t call herself an activist directly, the work that she does runs parallel to activism. Information is power.

Space for survivors

“Something I like to bring into the classroom is how to say yes or no,” said Jimanekia Eborn, a sex educator and trauma specialist.

“…I had never had that. And I think that goes hand in hand with consent, and with learning boundaries.”

Eborn, who also goes by the moniker “Trauma Queen,” initially worked as a crisis counselor, in a mental health facility for young adults. The same life experience kept coming up: sexual assault.

Eborn, who is a sexual assault survivor, saw a need for sex education catered to other survivors, especially those from marginalized identities.

Jimanekia Eborn is a sex educator and trauma specialist.

That’s a space she had to carve out herself. Sex education is typically not catered toward survivors.

“There’s so many people that talk about the pleasure aspect, forgetting that people can’t get to that aspect because of the trauma,” she said.

Her approach is emotionally-focused, and treats recovery from trauma as a journey. As a Black, queer, polyamorous femme, Eborn wants folks like her to feel like they have someone to connect with.

It is a heavy labor. Eborn gets personal and teaches through sharing her own story. She finds that many folks have been sexually assaulted, but don’t have the words for it.

“I heal through my work. I’m constantly finding new things out about myself,” she said.

“And I think it’s nice for people to be able to see someone being able to share their story.”

Complete Article HERE!