David Minerva Clover

David Minerva Clover

Bio

David Minerva Clover is a queer and transgender writer, covering everything from parenting to why dinosaurs are awesome. His work has appeared in The Washington Post, New York Mag, The Establishment, and many other places. He lives in beautiful Detroit Michigan with his spouse, one child, and an embarrassment of animals. Check out his blog at Postnuclear Era or follow him on twitter at @dm_clover.

David Minerva Clover Articles

I never expected to struggle like this.

Dancing On The Poverty Line: It Was Never Supposed To Be Like This

Back when we decided to have a baby together, we had a plan. She was never, ever going to have to work full-time. She was going to work part-time, and I was going to work part-time, selling dog food at that cute little store I used to work at. We would have one day off a week in common, and we would be broke, but we would get by. We would be tired, but we would be happy.

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It only reinforced and strengthened my belief that women and other people who can become pregnant have a fundamental right to decide what happens to their body.

Pregnancy Made Me More  Pro-Choice

Something had clicked in my head. Suddenly I didn't give a shit when life began or whether or not a fetus counts as a “baby.” I was overwhelmed by the new-found knowledge that pregnancy is unfairly invasive in every single way.

If you believe in bodily autonomy and consent, folks should get to consent (or not) to the process of gestation. Full stop. No caveats.

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Listen, a vagina is not an artificial waterway for babies to be born.

Let's Talk About Genitals: The Term Birth Canal Is The Actual Worst

The way we as a society discuss genitalia is already messed up and confusing. When the word “vagina” is used to mean everything from, well, “vagina” to “vulva” to “the entire female reproductive system — yes, even including the ovaries,” it’s no freaking wonder we don’t know how to talk about this stuff.

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No one has ever explained to me what “be careful” means in this context. (Image: Thinkstock)

Why Are Men Always Telling Me To Be Careful?

I’m not scared on the street very often, but y’all, this time I was scared. But if there’s one thing I know, it is that you do not answer these guys, because that only makes it worse. So I held my breath and hoped that if I didn’t engage, he’d drive off eventually. I felt for my cell phone in my pocket, wondering how quickly I could get ahold of someone if I needed to.

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It was like a part of myself woke up, but it was a part of myself that I was sure was dirty and wrong; a part of myself that I was sure I could squish down if I just tried hard enough.

I Just Have To Tell Someone About This Weird Thing I Do: On Discovering Masturbation

It was like how you might feel if you thought you were the only person who liked apples. Maybe everyone else just thought apples were for decoration, but you liked to eat them. And then one day you found someone else who also ate apples, and you got really excited about that! And then suddenly, it hit you… What if everybody secretly ate and enjoyed apples, only we were all too afraid to mention it?

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Once I realized that I could embrace the parts of femme that I liked (lipstick! frilly skirts!) and reject the ones that didn’t work for me (shaving! heels!) things got a hell of a lot easier.

I'm A Queer Femme — And It Only Took Me 30 Years To Embrace It

Faced by the extreme pressure to conform to impossible beauty ideals, I followed my instincts (and my budding feminism) and rejected them wholesale. I wasn’t going to play like that; I wasn’t going to let my gender require that I wear makeup or perform a certain way.

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My epidural made me stop wanting to die. Image: Thinkstock.

Whether Or Not Someone Gets An Epidural Is None Of Your Business

We compare birth stories like war stories. Twelve hours of labor, 32 hours of labor, three hours of pushing, we fall into the trap of trying to one-up each other. So yes, I can see why, to a parent-to-be who is enthusiastically anticipating pain relief, the refusal of an epidural might seem like a bit of a hero complex. And maybe for some people it is! But it’s none of your goddamn business.

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I stand at the ready to remind these adults what ought to be common sense: mind your own plate. Stop policing how kids eat!

Other Adults, It’s Time To Stop Policing How Kids Eat

I stand at the ready to remind these adults what ought to be common sense: mind your own plate. Stop policing how kids eat!

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Candles Or Candies? Celebrating Halloween As A Mom — And A Witch

I don’t want to deprive my child of these magical Halloween memories, I just also want to light candles and talk about our ancestors.

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There are definitely classist roots in here, but I still like Konmari. Image: Thinkstock.

This Sh*t Brings Me Joy: Konmari For Poor Folks

Getting rid of all of your stuff is all well and good if you are childfree, but if you have the fortune (or misfortune) to have children, they literally will not let you.

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