Matt Joseph Diaz

As much as you want to believe people are all the same, we don’t have the luxury of being seen as the “default” in the same way white, straight, cis people often are. We don’t have the luxury of dismissing our painful history and systemic issues for the sake of everyone getting along, because we’re still in the middle of them.

Dear anti-feminist men, 

I’m writing to you because I want to have a discussion.

I promise you, people living with depression are acutely aware that things probably aren’t as bad as they could be.

Do you remember that incredibly awkward feeling you’d get during childhood when you went over to a friend’s house for dinner and their parents started arguing? This was like that — only your dick is out and you got caught having sex with one of the parents.

For a long time, passing privilege made me feel like I didn’t deserve to call myself latino.

This week, Matt kicks off our Conversation series on coming out with his own story.

I know, it's Monday. BLECH. But, that also means it's time for #MondaysWithMatt.

When you go through a difficult, traumatic, or transformative experience, there’s a part of you that wants to hold onto the person you were before it happened. You try so hard to hold onto a simpler time–a time when things weren’t so scary. But you can’t.

This week on Mondays With Matt: Wearing a crop-top. And I have a NEW BELLYBUTTON.

Vulnerability is a sign of strength, not weakness, and those who see being open and sincere as symbols of fragility have a skewed idea of vulnerability. It takes NO strength to close yourself off from the world — to refuse to be who you are because you’re afraid of the reaction of those around you. Feeling deeply and openly, even in the face of resistance, is what takes true strength.