fattou's picture

days in hospital

I was hospitalized in 2008, I spent 3 weeks there, it was a very tough period, it was like a prison with medicines, after K.S convinced me that I need professional help, I went to the hospital with

Christina Engela's picture

Who Are We? Why Are We Here?

I sat down this morning wondering what our community is all about. I'm thinking about the Pink Community of course. Pink, because of the confusing array of acronyms we apply to describe ourselves, that almost always put some sub-groups before others, and invariably leave someone out. Pink, because of our association with the feminine, with the notion that we break the boundaries set for us by society, and because it flies in the face of some beliefs that pink represents weakness and inferiority - an idea some are growing to realize is not the case at all.

Who does our community include? Well, anyone who breaks the stereotype, any person who does not feel the description of straight and cis-gender describes them. Anyone who does not fit into the neat, ordered little pigeon-holes designated for them by a straight, patriarchal society that decrees males shall behave like this, and females shall know their place, and behave like this, and be subservient to the male. It includes anyone who does not feel comfortable with these designated roles, and refuses to accept having them forced on them, being more inclined to fight for their freedom and equality.
Christina Engela's picture

Friendly Advice

I find the older one gets, the harder it is to find and make true friends. Some time ago I had many real life friends, some with whom I had kept relationships going since junior school, people that I shared and did everything with - even until long after high school. And then one day, about ten years ago - I lost every single one of them, every single one - including a best friend I had known 14 years.

The event that precipitated this? My coming out as transgender. It seems that suddenly people didn't know me anymore (or want to know me) and were suddenly far too busy to call, talk, or socialize. Suddenly, everybody was a workaholic. Suddenly, people weren't talking to me as much as at or about me. Even my best friend at the time - a guy I had known since starting high school, who was as a brother to me, and who had been quite comfortable with the thought of me being bisexual (as long as it was closeted) - was suddenly afraid to be around me in case people started doubting his manhood.

It seems that when you keep your nature a secret, and when you lie about who you are, people love you - and when you reveal yourself and live honestly, they despise you and even fear you for it.
Olga Wolstenholme's picture

Sex Education

When I was eleven, my brother (who is five years older than I am) told our Mom that it was time for her to give me the talk. The walls in our house were rather thin and I could hear them having this conversation in the kitchen from my bedroom. To be fair, I might have been eavesdropping (I wanted to be a detective at the time).

I was rather mortified at the prospect of having this conversation with my mother and  besides at age eleven I was pretty familiar with the subject, not from personal experience mind you, but I had a firm grasp of how babies were made. My best friend and I had already seen our first porno: an orgy of hippies fornicating in a meadow, a tape we had found in her Dad’s closet. So when, my mother called me down into the kitchen, I was happy to tell her she didn’t need to put either of us through this, since I already knew all about it. She wanted to have the talk just as much as I did, so she let the subject drop.

My parents were separated and weren’t the best communicators in the world, which meant that my Dad also took it upon himself to have the sex talk with me. His version was to awkwardly knock on my bedroom door and hand me a book about puberty and sex, at which point he immediately left. That was it, not a word was spoken. Still at least I had access to some information and he didn’t just hand me a box of condoms like he had done with my brother.

Christina Engela's picture

Friends For Life


A few times in my life I have had to pack bags of assorted crap with unpleasant sentimental value which I cleared out of my home - and send them to charities or give them away in order to get rid of them and have peace of mind.

These days I only choose friends who don't need anything from me - people who have no reason to want me around other than for my company, people who I cannot see any ulterior motives in, other than friendship and mutual interest and even compassion. It is sad that I have to penalize new friends - and even lovers - for the conduct of the ones who went before, who unwittingly made me a much wiser person. And I must add that having a dodgy memory can be a blessing in disguise. At least the things that formed me as a person, particularly the unpleasant ones, are no longer as clear as they once were, their edges less sharp and dulled by the passage of time.

In a more complicated sense, the similarities between interpersonal dependencies called "friendships" and the relations between political parties and the electorate are not as dissimilar as you may at first think.

Syndicate content
Powered by Drupal, an open source content management system