iam:
jes
(gender)queercrip feminist kid;
one short leg and one odd stride.
literature enthusiast.
dance fiend.
my mods are my reclamation; a control over that body which is the source of [most of] my otherness.
pierced: right eyebrow, left nostril, septum, labret, 3 lobish left ear, 2 lobish right ear, upper left ear cartiledge, and left nipple.
inked: small red adrinkra symbol on inner right wrist, small/medium coloured daffodil on the back of my neck, three circles on inner right arm, squid and whale coloured half sleeve, chest piece outline of old school 'crooked' heart.
wish list (aka. coming soon):
-finish chest piece
-disabled pin-up! (where?! maybe inner right bicep)
currently reading: extraordinary bodies by rosemarie garland thomson
Buddies
jessica*xo
cherriesgalore
nikki<3
anne <3
bang bang
Mod-Tracker
xxxx
crooked: heart
starlight pussy
1
accessible sexuality
2007/04/15 19:39
Interesting article in the Toronto Star yesterday, dealing with sex and disability (yay!) and respective social policies. The columnist, Helen Henderson, writes an accessible column (audio RSS feed available through iTunes), centred around disability politics.
i suppose the most difficult aspect of beauty is with relation to oneself. i can look in the mirror and think that i am beautiful, and that can be true if by definition beauty is subjective. however, if upon entry into the world/society, i am met with a large amount of contradictory evidence/contrary thought, this collective energy can and would influence my own entitled opinion of myself.
i think that is the apex of my own struggle
and undoubtedly everyone elses.
it is impossible (in my opinion) for us to look at our own reflection and hate all that we see when we see ourselves. if not already influenced to hate certain features. why would we be innately programmed into self-loathing?
i think the disconnect lies in interaction with others. and mass medialization. and standards of beauty that few can meet, though all are encouraged/forced to try.
its frustrating because there is nothing i can do to get to that holy grail. no amount of surgery exists to undo my making, such that i may be recreated into a being worth lusting after.
but it is the falsity accepted as truth that persuades me to desire this unattainability in order to be a full person that has me doomed.
i can only be what i am. perhaps someone else can love that. perhaps not. but no amount of striving for the top of a mountain not made to hold everyone contently will leave me fulfilled.
so where does that leave me? ah yes...struggling with who i know i am, who i see i am, who the world sees i am, and how i am treated therefore.
if i essentialize things, i guess that leaves me either narcissistically confined to my room for the rest of my days, or head down and mouth shut interacting with the rest of society
i guess for my sanity's sake, i'm going to hope for a third option
