I’m not here, this isn’t happening.
A twig picked up after a coastal gale in Clovelly, North Devon, home to a lichen colony.
Painting in progress in watercolour.
Who taught me to suck in my stomach,
or my cheeks?
Who told me to stand with my legs apart
and my hips thrust back
to create the illusion of a gap
between my thighs?
Who made me believe that the most beautiful part of me
is my negative space?
Because I still have this sad, hopeless belief that the people featured on this blog will actually listen when people explain things to them, I made a handy-dandy chart in an attempt to explain marginalization versus minority status.
It’s true that some minorities are marginalized … but some minorities are just that: a small subsection of the larger population. Blue-eyed people, former presidents, otherkin, tulpamancers, Mormons, people who actually like Project Runway: all of these small populations are minorities, but they AREN’T marginalized. In other words, they do not face systemic prejudice, bigotry, and oppression simply for being who they are.
big dogs are always happy