So after reading a bit of Exile and Pride, I thought it interesting that Eli Clare considered his body as what was home to him.  To me, home had always been anything BUT my body.  For instance, the roof I live under is considered home to me, the neighborhood I live in is considered home to me, being surrounded by my family and their mannerisms and so on.   When looking at what my body is to me, it’s just simply that . . . my body.  I look at it as a piece of property owned by me.

Then Clare starts putting labels on his body, such as queer and disabled, which describes who he is and how it describes his body as home.  In relation to my own body, I’ve never considered even putting labels on it because the idea never occurred to me.  Don’t get me wrong, my body is very special to me, because it was given to me specially when I was born into this world, but I just can’t come to the point of naming it home, and putting labels on it.  That seems kind of abnormal to me.  Instead, on an ending note, I’d like to also look at my body simply as a miraculous piece of work that serves as a protection for my soul, which is in charge of my inner thoughts, actions, etc., contained inside.