We see ourselves as slogging through the dirt Whilst others upon golden pathways tread We see them as above mere mundane hurt Such as we know whom to the dirt are bred This is illusion, manufactured by Those who well understand a little hope Keeps us content, continuing to try Forever to climb that fictitious slope They but conduct the very same Mundane activities as do mere we They also have places to which they came Where they would not by pref'rence rather be Let not the gilding cause you to forget For all its gold, all life's a lilly yet
There are a lot of things on which the trans community disagrees. One such thing relates to the concept of “male privilege”. As trans women, we live part of our lives as if we were men- at least until we figure it out and do something about it. 831 more words
So You Want to Be An Ally?
It appears that the word “ally” meant something at one point in time in history, has meant something else more recently and now is beginning to change again. 2,784 more words
Acceptance is a complicated and loaded term in the counseling world. We generally hold it up as an aspirational value, particularly in recovery circles, but the term, the concept and the practice are laden with nuance and difficulty. 1,495 more words