Jetta Rae DoubleCakes

A tale as old as rhyme: boy meets girl, gets his feelings hurt, and spreads her personal information on the internet. Here's my take on Zoe Quinn.

Being a polyamorist has yet to afford me that “communal pride.” It’s not an identity that I associate with good politics. Yet.

Jane Lynch, Aubrey Plaza, Rosario Dawson, Laverne Cox . . . we're looking at you.

This classic film takes the cautionary tale into the "supersonic age," foregoing a cerebral edge in favor of murder and a giantess fetish.

I have an intense, irrational fear of amputation. I threw up trying to read Geek Love. I get light-headed, piss-pantsy in Halloween stores.

We deserve to be safe. We deserve to live—even at the cost of your flawed, incomplete grasp of lesbian identity.

Every Friday, our very DoubleCakes scours the videosphere for the best cringe-inducing documentaries, found footage and TV specials of yore.

I put the lotion on my skin for a week after they left, hoping that it would bring me stop-gap solace until they forgave me and came back.

Visibility and respect, held with tired arms in a dire double headlock—this is the struggle of women in sports.

The apron was a birthday gift—to both of us, really. She was the first woman to ever call me 'Mommy.'