My queer body

My queer body will not bend to your cis white ableist capitalist heteropatriarchy that abuses this earth and its people. My queer body is a vessel for my queer heart and mind, neither of which you are allowed to have or break. My queer body is absolutely magical even though I have not always known this. Even though I have spent most of my life failing to understand or appreciate it, my queer body remains. My queer body is here and it is hairy. It is angry most days, yet remains capable of love. My queer heart, body, and mind are capable of love when they have not always received it from myself or this world. My queer body is tired, and happy, and sensual, and frustrated, and it loves chocolate. My queer body is not an inclusivity addendum: it is included in my presence and being, in my thoughts, feelings and speech. I cannot be separated from it. And I love that. I love my queer body—or at least I’m learning to. I love all the things it can and can’t do, all of its flaws and imperfections and the weird and wonderful things it makes me feel. So my queer body demands revolution. It demands nuanced understandings of self-love and goodness. It demands to be in the forefront of society’s mind, not relegated to an afterthought. My queer body demands radical, difficult, and utterly life-changing conversations surrounding it. Not just my queer body but all bodies. This is the revolution we deserve.