Author: Talia Smith

I’ll give a well-deserved shoutout to my girl Tweety, the nail tech who has swindled me into a routined residency at the shop that conveniently sits around the corner from my apartment.

I credit much of my fashion sense to other people, as I think most of us should. If we aren’t designing it, we’re curating it—which, yes, deserves recognition.

I’d sit through conversations with straight family members and friends, and the couple seemed to be a source of common ground to any queer relationship that was brought up—my own included.

It’s as though representation sounds and looks good on paper, but is approached with little accuracy or genuine celebration of difference when put into practice.

Nonetheless, when my queer friends disapproved of my lack of “gay aura,” I figured implementing some minor fashion changes would do nothing but good for me and my adventure towards “outward gayness.”

I think it’s most important to highlight and understand that polyamory does not just mean one thing— and therefore cannot be pinned as being such.

But representation in our government just isn’t as in touch with a massive part of the population—the younger generations whose lives have just begun.

But, for me and other queer-identifying singles, new intimate connections involve the ever so familiar and anxiety-filled reality known as “coming out.” Unfortunately, the process of explaining my own sexual identity to others seems almost cyclical when seeking potential partners.