The price of expressing your own queer self
Consider the price of a single word: of one fluttering of the tongue, one pursing of the lips, one releasing of the self into the world. Some words are worth less than others. There’s no price for the, an, or a— these are careless words, tossed around like worn-out articles of clothing. Some words are worth more than others, but not by as much as you might think. There’s rampant price gouging in the adjective market, at least for certain buyers. I remember the spring of my first college year, when I shaved my itchy beard away and said that I felt “pretty.” Then came the gouge: a few careless words, tossed into my chest, twisting.