Issue 1
Enter I* Into my life. I, Imagine, I—Myself—Me. In a world where I can be, I* and I don't have to try, To fit in places where I do not.
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My body is intersex. And no, that does not mean that my body is broken, abnormal or diseased. Still the context of my body has been defined and rewritten in and out of existence so many times that I don't know what it is or where I stand.
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Pregnancy tests. Ultrasounds. Gender reveal parties. Maternity shopping. Childbirth. On the day we take our first breath, a clinician typically lifts us in the air, does a speedy examination, and pronounces our sex.
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I am caught in between, or rather, I exist there comfortably. Wedged in, or rather, nestled, right where I was born. Some don't see me as whole. Others see me as a hole—in their ideology.
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I twirl my hair like I'm making candy. I pull it out like I'm made of metaphors. I'm biting your tongue. You're biding my time. Years of miscommunication, disparate conversation. I down another disappointment and build another boundary for greedy hands to push and for me to cower behind.
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I grew up amongst those who spoke in the voices of angels, yet my body was a fantasy. A conjuring of nature, an abrupt reminder of the dissonance of thought which dominates the chosen.
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Although I have never identified with any of the letters in the LGBT acronym, I feel deep empathy and love for this community. I understand the problems and discrimination they face, since every day I face those same problems and discrimination.
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I knew as a kid I was different and I had this perception it wasn’t in a good way. When I was 12, I found out the name of what made me different. My parents told me I had 17 beta hydroxysteroid dehydrogenase deficiency. What the fuck is that?
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I am canvas cut in the shape of a woman. What rainbow of truths I see people paint upon theirs. Those colours, shapes, and techniques upon mine Will always be upon canvas Cut in the shape of a woman.
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This drawing represents how in the past and in other cultures intersex people were seen as Gods or Demigods or as beings that somehow came to teach the world of something.
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Kaleb has been my partner for more than six years and is a person who was born with an intersex body. Since we met, she has always been honest with me. She told me that her body didn't fit within the social idea of a typical woman.
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It was the day of my talk and my body was calm. I had three hours before my talk and the nerves had not sunk in yet. This was a pretty common occurrence; the last time I talked about being intersex was on a panel at an intersex conference.
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I am writing this to provide some basic advice for parents of intersex children. But first, I would like to tell you a little about myself. I was born in Mexico City more than 30 years ago.
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Pro frugal tip: save money on therapy by becoming a famous intersex activist! Recently I wanted to tell my intersex story to my therapist. Instead of paying for an entire session dedicated to telling my story, I just sent him links to my interviews, and that was it!
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What is privilege? Privilege is when a certain aspect of your life will make sure you are not discriminated against—in this specific case, I want to show you how intersex people, my people, I, have been and are institutionally discriminated against.
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Hi! My name is Frida. I am a girl from Oaxaca, Mexico, but I am not a typical girl. I am different; I have something that makes me special, something that has made me happy: I have Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia or CAH.
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I was adopted at the age of 2 from India and met my two mums and moved to America. I was raised female and always knew I was intersex.
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I know that the orchid can have other meanings for different intersex people. I personally see the orchid as a symbol of intersex because it’s a flower that can have many forms.
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