There was a time in my life not that long ago in which the only value or self-worth I had depended on others, men in particular. That was the only way that I knew that I had worth, was if someone else found me desirable.
*possible trigger warning for negative sexual experiences (coercion for example)*
As I scroll through the endless stream of photos on the internet – mainly my tumblr – I can’t help but be overwhelmed by how many adorable queer folks there are. With amazing haircuts, clothing, artwork, music, everything. Babes all on the internet with super cute selfies, what more could one want?
Only as I as I spend more time seeing these images, I become aware of a question that always seems to be lingering in the back of my mind when it comes to my sexuality.
Am I queer enough?
Looking through everyone’s blog posts and the internet there is obviously a huge increase in talking about fatness, thinness and everything in between.
I think I realized what is starting to annoying me with it all.
I don’t have to love my body.
I have a confession to make. I do not shave my arm pits. Hell, I only shave my legs if I’m feeling saucy and have clean sheets because nothing is better than smooth legs in clean sheets. (That’s a lie, a lot of things are better than that.)
While I like to think of myself as a badass feminist who says fuck you to anyone and everyone who tries to tell me what to do with my body – especially in regards to body hair—I am not. That’s my second confession. I wish it was that simple.
I don’t think it’s ever that simple.
Unruly Bodies 