lgbtq

Non-nuclear is the new normal; millions of children belong to happy families with lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender parents.

Hijra Dreams
Ratnagiri, India, 1967 Hands are spaces of relation, undeterminable from the present reality. Fingers are digits of imagination, capable of creating realities of possibility. What happens when I tell my story of forsaken worlds that were a breath away from being?
By Rishi Guné5 years ago in Families
Being Transgender and Wanting a Child
Disclaimer - These are my views and opinions and do not reflect anyone else's. So a bit of a backstory about me, I'm 18, and I'm a man. A transgender man. This means that I was assigned female at birth. Around the age of nine, I realised I wasn't female and I was actually male. I didn't come out until I was 14, but that is a completely different story.
By Alec Blackwater5 years ago in Families
The Outcast Path
My sweating palms told me that I was making a big mistake. The thick letter-headed paper with the address on shook in my hand. I was at the correct location. My phone in the other hand also shook, it’s screen still displaying details of the type of establishment I’d been sent to. I had been expecting an office, a house, anything but this.
By Laura-Jo McCarthy5 years ago in Families
Packaged Women
Staring in her bedroom mirror, Babe grabbed her stomach with the left hand, and with the right one she smacked the roll several times: this image seared on my psyche at age five. She was convinced her stomach had fattened itself and for its defiance she would publicly humiliate it. Chastising it in the car after strapping her belt and especially when trying on new clothes. As our grandmother, she’d take us clothing shopping at one of those stores that sell groceries, tires, and furniture. All the women in our family are indistinct, but with a bit of flare added through differing hairstyles. Uniform and humdrum—like fortune cookies—uninteresting until cracked open.
By Hali Kimball5 years ago in Families
The Inheritance
“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” thought Alice Hooper as she was browsing Reddit. It’s been exactly a year since she came out as transgender, and yet it still hasn’t fully sunk in. As she kept on browsing, she couldn’t help but reflect on everything that’s happened. Alice furrowed her brow slightly as she thought of everyone she lost over the last year. Some left right away, in silence, others left gradually, slowly fading away from her life. Somehow nobody made a scene as they left her life, to the disappointment of some of her more confrontational friends. The ones that hurt the most were the ones that she had to leave herself… Her phone rang with the one contact she did not expect to see.
By Alice Capewell5 years ago in Families
Odysseus in the Underworld
Odie’s phone balked at the incoming call with such vehemence it died. She had not recognized the number. She yelled at the empty living room, “How could I forget a charger?”
By Blake Montgomery5 years ago in Families
Dear Zach
"Shit!" Zach cursed as he tripped over another box. A cloud of dust swept into his face, and he coughed, wiping at his eyes and mouth. Once cleared, Zach frowned at the box; messy, sprawling sharpie declaring it was "High School Stuff." The question was: whose?
By J. Bearse5 years ago in Families
8 ways to show your at-risk LGBT teenager you love them
An earlier version of this article appeared on News Break. The nation’s first large study assessing teen suicide risk by gender and self-identifying sexuality shows gay, lesbian, and bisexual children have more than double the risk compared to their heterosexual peers.
By David Heitz5 years ago in Families
The Greatest Love
Jane was an eccentric being, standing alone in a community full of Gospel. It were of no surprise to her, being raised within the Bible Belt, that she didn’t fit “in”. Coming of course from a family of prestigious Pentecostals, she felt a certain duty toward morality. However, that wasn’t quite who she desired to be. Never was she allowed to cut her hair, she was also forced itno wearing long skirts, as pants may entice those of the opposing sex. If only it were the opposite sex that she suffered worry. Shackled from herself within, a person she couldn’t quite come to terms with. Truly she loved her family, which love, did breed her inclination to guilt. Unsure of what was wrong with her, why did she feel in her stomach this rushing warm sensation every time she saw her best friend Lily. Or why she would lay awake each night thinking only of Lily’s smile.
By Derek Smith5 years ago in Families
Sardine Tin
Though the hot-dog failed to bait crustaceans, it seduced an expensive fly-fishing vest; it’s mesh exterior caught on the wire cage of an old crab trap. Vivian, knee-deep in marsh, hemmed by sedge and palmetto, cut the fabric free and brought his treasure to shore. Cross-legged on an oak stump, he examined his trouvaille. Rubbed his thumb over the tag. Durable straps. Water Bladder. Ten pockets plump with possibility. My man’s gotta have a wallet in here. Vivian cracked his knuckles, eager for the rummage. Unzipped the first cavity. Silver bodkins. Shiny, without rust. Mama will like these. Pliers and line clippers. Insect repellent. Bobbin holders. Castille soap. Come on man. I know you have a blade. He wanted a hatchet to add to his knife collection. Vivian unzipped the last pocket slowly, prolonging the unknown. Please God let there be some money or a Case Trapper. He reveled in those ephemeral flickers of opportunity, yet, he remained grateful when he pulled out a sardine tin. Knew better than to wallow over chance.
By Keegan 5 years ago in Families
Stares, whispers belittle LGBTQ in nursing homes
An earlier version of this article appeared on News Break. During World War II, Alexandre served his country as a medic. He respectfully and dutifully helped save the lives of those fighting on the front lines to keep our country free.
By David Heitz5 years ago in Families
The Hidden Notebook
It wasn't that I didn't know my father. I didn't know him the way he knew himself. I was his son, but not his confidant. Even my mother didn't claim to know him well. She knew the parts he revealed. They were good and loving parts, she always asserted, but it was hard for me to imagine what his love looked like for me as his son. Neither of us would have known if it hadn't been for that small black notebook tucked between the wall and his desk.
By Presley Thomas5 years ago in Families