i really believe that i was set up to be awkward. being an immigrant brown kid in the u.s. is isolating and i have learned to navigate the tiring hyper-visibility and invisibility that comes with being who i am. i learned early on to code switch on some fronts like school and with my friends parents. but when it came to peers i didn’t get the memo and i was left with my internalization of hyper-visibility and invisibility to fall back on. what this meant that i was either incredibly quiet and hard to get to know or loud and lacking tact. there was little gray area for me growing up…
the thing about getting sober is that it doesn’t solve the problems or issues that we had when we were drinking. getting sober didn’t get rid of racism for instance. i still deal with that shit on the daily but what it did what it gave me time to figure my shit out. i mean think about the hours and hours occupied either drunk or hungover, now that i don’t have that i have time for other shit. but the downside to all that is that it gives me time to think about my past and all the things i could do differently. also being sober means that there is no out of having the hard feelings they come regardless of how much we try to run from them. for me my first two years of sobriety meant confronting my discomfort with my awkwardness.
From ‘thoughts on being an awkward sober brown queer’ in Quiet Riot aka the shy sober kid zine available at Left Bank Books in Seattle and available to read at the zine library in Halifax, Nova Scotia. email firstname.lastname@example.org if you want a copy
As the title suggests, a zine about being sexually dysfunctional whilst participating in sex-positive queer spaces. Written by four queers, this zine discusses feeling excluded from sex-positive spaces, the limits of consent, not feeling queer ‘enough’, bad sex and sad sex.
Some things about us (from the introduction):
We are a group of four white queers, and – despite differing gender identities – were all assigned female at birth and are now usually cis-female passing. We are all currently physically non-disabled, in our 20s, south London-based, attracted to people of various genders, have had shitty abusive relationships (mostly but not exclusively with men), are currently suffering or have previously suffered from various mental health problems, love cats.
Content note: these pieces include subjects such as rape, sexual assault and coercion, abusive relationships, drug use, self-harm, anxiety and depression. The writing also reflects cisnormativity and internalised homophobia and misogyny. Content notes have also been added to individual pieces where necessary.
Word-processed, 56 pages, black & white. Includes some hand-drawn pictures of cats!
More writings on being sexually dysfunctional whilst participating in sex-positive queer spaces. We took contributions from around the world to put together 2FURIOUS and this zine contains writings from fifteen different authors. It includes responses to the first zine and the workshops we’ve run since its publication, and also discusses similar topics as before: feeling excluded from sex-positive spaces, the limits of consent, not feeling queer ‘enough’, bad sex and sad sex.
Content note: these pieces include subjects such as rape, sexual assault and coercion, abusive relationships, disordered eating and mental health issues. The writings reflect internalised homophobia and misogyny.
A5 size with 40 pages, black & white copy and hand-drawn pictures of cats!
Have you ever felt left out or alienated by sex-positivity and the way it plays out in your interpersonal relationships or in the spaces where you hang out? Have you ever felt pressure to feel/perform desire, to be (or be seen to be) sexually active, to have relationships or date people, to do non-monogamy (or to do it in a specific way), to have fulfilling/pleasurable sex or to have certain kinds of sex?
Do you feel like sex-positivity often ignores the reality of living, and trying to be sexual, in a racist ableist cissexist hetero-patriarchal rape culture? Have you ever felt like consent shouldn’t be framed in terms of sexiness? Does your queer or feminist community fail to make space for people on the asexual and aromantic spectrums?
When most of the queer and feminist spaces we have access to are explicitly sex-positive and/or centred around hooking up, talking about sex-negative or sex-critical feelings can often make us feel like kill-joys, pissing on everyone else’s sexually liberated parade.
This discussion aims to provide a safer space in which to talk about the above questions. We will also be exploring ways in which our queer and feminist communities can be more inclusive of those who can’t fuck, won’t fuck, don’t fuck, or who choose to only fuck some of the time.