This is the one where I came out and made a new life. I found family and learned how to make home. Oh, and I JUST turned 21.
Your default mode is being owned by yourself, and no one else can tell you who to love, what to fear, or what to find joy in. Your religion is not my religion, and that's okay.
I believe in those of us who look at god and see queer. I believe in those of us who look at the mirror and see god. I believe in those of us who are learning to love the god that is made visible in us.
Tassja and I found each other through the #ReligiousTraumaSyndrome tag on Instagram, and I'm happy to share her story with you. It involves an up-and-coming in the Toronto film industry, a stint at a tattoo shop, losing a best friend to a high-demand religion... oh yeah, and Mean Girls.
For a kid who was already anal about creases in her looseleaf, exiting a group of people who were so sure about their right answers that they tried to convert everyone they knew to The Light was world-shaking. It was humbling. It was awkward. And it was also fundamentally freeing.
From Ludacris' hoes to ancestral migrations. What does a map with North Korea at the center look like? Why is the map you grew up with a lie? And which way is up?!