Little Bear Schwarz

I’m not brave because I’m shameless, or superior, or strange. I’m brave because I’m afraid.

I appear to be someone whose queerness, hairiness, and chubbiness has been wholly embraced and celebrated. I must have the answers! I don't.

The building pressure of trying to find security and a future on my own, compounded with my heartbreak, caused me to snap.

So the result, therefore, is a culture of “fans” considering us Sideshow Freaks — bearded ladies included — to be “neat” and “fun,” but not actually real.

If the world told me that I would never land a career, a love life, or happiness as a woman, with a face & body covered in hair, is it not empowering (and to a degree, feminist) for me to flip them the bird, grow it anyway, and prove them wrong?

If we were to cut off all of our favorite forms of media because they contained problematic elements, we would live in a very silent and still world.

Kinksters, I am not here to shame you. I am not telling you not get your rocks off. I am simply advocating introspection.

At its core, body-autonomy—and feminism itself—is about giving women the benefit of the doubt that they can make up their own minds.

I can’t just eat in moderation—at least not yet. But I am fine-tuning and honing and perfecting my body with the honor, respect, and love of a hand-crafted sword.

Is this a thing that happens? Do people come out — or come BACK out — as cis? Is there a closet with a hidden door?