Tag Archives: growing up

stuck between a sandwich and a queer place

I was a bender from the start: letting my female playmates choose their imaginary personas first, knowing very well they would hop on the opportunity to clinch the “the girl”, “the mom”, “the damsel in distress”, just so I could … Continue reading

Posted in Q Center | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment