What I will say is that nobody tells you how much grieving is involved in being assaulted. Instead, I’m documenting this journey to becoming: to better understanding my queerness, my transness and my femme. I’m not going to write about the gory details of being assaulted, and honestly, I’m tired of rehashing the worst moments of my life. I was a Fleshlight whose feelings - and whose no - didn’t matter. My previous relationship was violent and lonely. We’re certainly not supposed to have sex or even talk about it, and when someone throws us a pity fuck, keeps us hidden from their friends or only dates fat people at night, we’re supposed to be grateful that someone would want us, no matter how dehumanizing and abusive a relationship can become.
The strain we’re allegedly putting on the environment and our employers and the rest of society.
The decadent swelling, ham-fisted lack of self-control.
