Faggot

The raw emotions continue to be painful. I’m still spazzing. I’m still distraught. I’m still frantic and furious. I’m working hard to shed this baggage and the image that has been branded upon me. Meanwhile, I am damaged. Mentally and physically, I am unable to cope on my own. I need support. I need help. I need an advocate.

I finally understand what it means to be a survivor. I must find my footing, pave my way, and mow over the resistance. Even if I’m all alone, I fully intend to fight for my self-worth for as long as it takes.

The Apology I never thought I would receive from the Kindergarten Bully

It was kindergarten. I was in my colorful floral dress that flowed over my bright magenta leggings. I wore white socks that had lace on the ends. I might have even had my purple patterned headband with gold outlines. I was learning how to be a four-year-old, navigating herself in Read more

After 35 Years, I Finally Grew a Pair

After 35 years, I finally grew a pair. That’s right, I finally stood up to a childhood bully. The end result of my adventure, however, is still quite a shock. Let me explain. I was bullied as a teenager as I grew up in a small town in New Jersey. Read more