Putting up with it

Transfer Talks

Occasionally, though, the jokes became sexual and vulgar. The inappropriate jokes about my body or their body or even customers’ bodies became a normal part of my work day.
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Placing home

Launching into Limbo

But if my neighborhood and hometown are my close friends, then my home itself may as well be an organ in my body, so attuned I am to its rhythm and pulse.
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Embracing uncertainty

Sex on Tuesday

But what I do know is that it’s OK to not know. It’s okay to identify as a lesbian and realize you’re bisexual. It’s normal to not know, to question yourself, to experiment.
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Finding my way

Launching into Limbo

If freshman year of college was a cloud of water vapor, then my recent family vacation can only be described as a block of glacial ice that’s been buried at the bottom of my freezer for the past 11 years.
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Looking like Mulan

Sex on Tuesday

I allowed myself to be violated, offended, objectified, dissected, because I didn’t think I held enough worth to deserve to live my life on my own terms.
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First impressions

Transfer Talks

Early one Sunday morning, my sister and I drove northbound on Highway 101 toward the Bay Area. It was about a five-hour drive to Berkeley from Santa Barbara, and we were both excited to visit the campus that would become my home for the next two years. I’d driven to
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Passing through

Launching into Limbo

Unlike the doorway of my room, the threshold to adulthood is not one you can simply dive right through. In fact, it isn’t even hollow.
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Trusting myself

Sex on Tuesday

I was giving away my power, my independence, my ability to dictate my sex life for myself. I allowed myself to be pushed and pulled like a rag doll.
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It’s just a number

Transfer Talks

I can’t exactly pinpoint what I thought the outcome of attending Santa Barbara City College for all those years would be, yet starting when I was 18, I managed to be enrolled every fall and spring semester at SBCC, varying between part-time and full-time enrollment.
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Let’s just pretend

Launching into Limbo

Granted I am 19 now and spending my days making fake phone calls to people who don’t exist would certainly raise some valid concerns. But those unburdened years — spent pursuing entirely made-up occupations from the comfort of my living room — seemed valuable to me.
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