Tag: queer

  • For Halloween, I Dressed Up As Myself

    For Halloween, I Dressed Up As Myself

    Growing up, I wanted to dress up as desirable. I wanted to trade in my straight eyelashes for curled ones and change my brown eyes to blue. I wanted to grow four inches in height and lose two around my waist. I yearned for wavy hair that framed my face instead of the stick-straight hair I was given. My eyes were wide enough to see, but not wide enough to be seen. I would have traded them in an instant. When I walked into a room, I wanted people to turn their heads to look at me. I wanted to hear it, the rustling of hair against shirt collars. I wanted the air to shift around me so that the music sounded a little clearer and the drinks tasted a little sweeter. All of this yearning and shapeshifting to be liked by boys. Boys who looked straight through me to get a better glimpse of my friends. Boys who made racist remarks about me as a joke, and friends who let it happen. I knew that the costume I wanted could never be bought online. In a world full of tricks, that was the biggest one of them all. 

    When Halloween rolled around, I was reminded that even on a day where anything was possible, I would never be able to be the one thing I really wanted: an equal. While I didn’t love the holiday, I knew an opportunity when I saw one. Without its quality of childlike wonder, it was a chance to flip expectations on their head. It was the one day a year when the impossible was possible. A nice girl could be a witch and a shy girl could be noticed.

    When I fell in love, things began to change. At last, I had caught the feeling I spent my whole life pursuing. The fog of self-loathing cleared, and I looked around, assessing the damage. I was alive, and other than 22 years of mental turmoil, remained mostly intact. I discovered that what made me undesirable was my environment, not me. And I discovered that the feeling I had when I looked at a pretty girl, the one I had almost convinced myself wasn’t real, was, in fact, the thing I had been wanting all along. With this newfound knowledge, I could start over as someone new, someone who dressed up as the character from their favorite childhood movie, for no reason other than for themselves. How strange and wonderful it was to put me first!

    Now, Halloween has taken on a new meaning. I no longer have to choose between pleasing others and pleasing myself, because the only person I care about is already next to me, holding my hand. Embracing my queerness helped me to accept many things, some more obvious than others, but I never imagined that a holiday that used to symbolize conformity could return to one of storybook characters and laughter.

  • Thomas Knights X Red Hot Debuts in Hollywood

    Thomas Knights X Red Hot Debuts in Hollywood

    Photographer and artist Thomas Knights, creator of the Red Hot movement–a celebration of red-haired men through photography and film–has a passionate mission to embrace and showcase redheads in visual media while bringing visibility to the queer community.

    Hoping to change public perception of redheads and queer sexuality, Knights has taken his movement across the globe. Now, the exhibition is arriving in Hollywood with a brand-new debut at CULTUREEDIT, a queer retail store on Santa Monica Blvd.

    Upon entering the gallery, visitors are greeted by a hallway lined with photographs of nude Red Hot models, pictured in New York and California by Knights himself. Spanning from the entrance walls to the main showroom, these photographs capture a playfulness and warmth, portraying these red-haired men as confident and empowered. With many group scenes, Knights depicts a strong sense of community and sexual freedom.

    The exhibition runs through November, so be sure to stop by CULTUREEDIT to experience this celebration of queer sexuality and redhead pride! You’ll also find Red Hot merchandise, including jockstraps, mugs, sandals, photography books, and calendars.

    Visit the exhibition at 6757 Santa Monica Blvd, Los Angeles CA 90038.

  • Halloween Photography

    Halloween Photography

    Photography from Halloween 2024 in West Hollywood by Kidmin Bellin and Paul Kneitz

  • Halloween in Weho

    Halloween in Weho

    What I Learned at my First Halloween Carnaval

    Every year since 1987, a mile of Santa Monica Boulevard has been blocked off on October 31st for the West Hollywood Halloween Carnaval. Thousands of costumed attendees roam the street and bars, enjoying the various food trucks and live DJ set.

    My boyfriend and I attended the event for the first time last year. I wore a devil inspired drag look and he went as Ghostface from the Scream franchise.

    We arrived around 10 PM, unaware that the event runs from 6 PM to 11 PM. On most nights this wouldn’t be too late, but on Halloween, it was absolutely packed, and every bar had an infinite line. After waiting in one of them for half an hour and hardly moving an inch, we gave up. Instead of bar hopping, we decided to walk around, socialize, take pictures, and admire everyone’s costumes.

    While the event may officially end at 11 PM, the crowd certainly didn’t thin out for the next couple hours. We stayed until midnight, only to discover that getting home wasn’t as simple as calling an Uber or Lyft. With the street blocked off and difficult to access, using a rideshare meant walking several blocks away from Santa Monica Boulevard. We headed toward W Holloway Dr and N Horn Ave, waited on the curb, and tried again. Although cars were now available, the prices were sky-high. We wondered if walking even farther, perhaps into a quieter residential area, might help reduce the fare. So we trekked 1.5 miles to Wilshire Boulevard, only to find that the Uber prices were exactly the same!

    This year, I plan to arrive between 8 and 9 PM—a potential sweet spot with a lively but less overwhelming crowd. And while there’s no avoiding the steep rideshare prices, at least this time I won’t be hiking 1.5 miles in my heels to try and beat them.

  • I Forgive You

    I Forgive You

    by Liv

    I forgive you

    For the hurt

    For the tears

    I forgive you

    Whether you want forgiveness

    Or not

    The words you spoke

    Echoing for years

    Deep inside

    I release them

    They belong to you

    Like they did before

    They hold power over me no longer

    And I relieve you of that power too

    Maybe you’ll understand

    Maybe you won’t

    But at last

    We are free

    Unbound

    From each other

  • A Drag Queen’s Top 5 Favorite Makeup Products

    A Drag Queen’s Top 5 Favorite Makeup Products

    As a beauty concierge by day and drag queen by night, I consider myself a dedicated makeup connoisseur. While I’m always exploring new brands and tools, I have my staple products I come back to time and time again. Whether you’re interested in drag or more natural looking makeup, here are my top 5 picks of drugstore and luxury products perfect for both drag and everyday makeup looks!

    https://www.walmart.com/ip/Burts-Bees-100-Natural-Blush
    1. Burt’s Bees 100% Natural Blush with Vitamin E

    Available at Burtsbees.com – $9.99 (lasts 2-3 years)

    This might be a surprising first pick, as Burt’s Bees isn’t known for their makeup products, but I cannot express how much I love their blush. I discovered their makeup line at Target in 2020 and was immediately blown away by the “bare peach” shade. I use this at work, going out, and even in drag. It’s the only blush I’ve consistently received compliments on. While they’re no longer sold at Target, they’re still available at Burtsbees.com and Amazon!

    https://colourpop.com/products/avenue-of-the-stars
    1. Colourpop Body Glitter Gel 

    Available at Ulta or Colourpop – $10 (lasts 3-4 years)

    Glitter might not be an everyday essential, but it’s a fun way to add some shine to your look! ColourPop offers these glitter gels in an impressive range of colors and are extremely easy to apply. With just a couple dabs, I apply it along my cheekbones and next to my eyes, though they work beautifully as body glitter too. The stunning sparkle will make you instantly stand out on a night out!

    https://www.sephora.com/product/contour-kit
    1. Anastasia Beverly Hills Contour Kit

    Available at Sephora – $40 (lasts 2-3 years)

    This is probably the least surprising and most popular entry on this list but for good reason! With six versatile shades for contouring and highlighting, it’s my go-to choice for sculpting my face and nose, both in and out of drag. I often use it to add depth to my eye makeup too. It’s hands down my most-used and most reliable product, with an impressive shelf life of two to three years.

    https://www.amazon.com/stila-Waterproof-Lasting-Smudge-Proof-Transfer-Resistant
    1. Stila Stay All Day Waterproof Liquid Eyeliner

    Available at Sephora – $24 (lasts 6 months)

    For years, I experimented with different liners. Some pens would dry up after a couple months, others stayed wet too long and smudged after applying. This Stila liner is a fairly recent discovery of mine but I have used it everyday the past three months and it’s as precise and sharp as the first day I tried it. While there are more affordable liners out there, this product casts a clean, sharp look and dries quickly (without the pen itself drying up.) I can’t recommend it enough!

    https://www.amazon.com/Makeup-Revolution-London
    1. Revolution Soph X Highlighting Palette

    Available at Amazon – $15.47 (lasts 1-2 years)

    This is one of my all time favorite products. I have yet to discover a highlighter product with as many shades and as good quality. They have enough variations to suit multiple skin tones and makeup looks. When I want a more subtle, natural highlight, I use the light tan, but if I want a more intense look, the white shade casts a beautifully bright shine. Its shelf life is also decent, mine having lasted me 2+ years. The one downside is that they don’t sell these in stores anymore and only seem to be available on Amazon but it’s 100% worth it for the exceptional quality. I can’t recommend it enough.

    Every item on this list has earned its place for its versatility, value, longevity, and above all else, performance. Whether you have an existing beauty regimen or are just getting started on your makeup journey, these are great products to explore and add to your routine!

  • No Longer a Tourist in San Francisco

    No Longer a Tourist in San Francisco

    Since moving to Los Angeles, I’ve clocked in countless hours on the 5 making the drive to San Francisco. But despite the frequency of these visits, it wasn’t until recently that I actually started to enjoy the city. Growing up in San Rafael, San Francisco was a 30-minute drive away. Once or twice a year, my dad would drive the family to Ghirardelli Square or Fisherman’s Wharf. As I got older, the charm wore off, especially when I was the one driving. Los Angeles has its share of terrible traffic and nonexistent parking, but at least you don’t have to endure such steep hills and winding streets!

    After I moved to LA, I made my way back home twice a year to visit my dad, sister, and high school friends. A couple years later–during a two-week visit–I decided to go on a handful of dates. At the time, I had very low confidence in my gender fluidity and often kept it a secret. To my surprise, however, these people were so accepting, I immediately felt safe enough to share my pronouns and identity. While one or two of the dates didn’t lead to anything, the majority resulted in long term friendships! I started to discover a version of San Francisco that I hadn’t been exposed to before: a queer version. 

    The amount of my friends in the city grew and grew, as did the frequency of my trips. I would spend weeks in advance planning who I was going to see and whose couch I was going to stay on, and on June 21, 2023, I headed north once again to celebrate SF Pride. 

    While the Pride Parade wasn’t until Sunday, the celebration started that Friday night. I stayed in the East Bay with a friend who drove us out to SoMA, starting out at the Hole in the Wall Saloon, a bar many of the earlier mentioned dates were at. You would be hard-pressed to find an empty space on the walls and ceilings here. Every inch is covered by stickers, chains, wheels, lights, records… the list goes on. The bartender that night was friendly, excited that I was from LA. He was from Orange County and “left for a reason.” –I didn’t ask. The bar’s tight quarters couldn’t help but make it intimate. A lot of the bars in this strip feel like that and draw out the same crowds. I always run into someone I know.

    On Saturday, I went to a party at a high school friend’s apartment in the Richmond District, spending time with old and new friends alike before venturing into the Castro for the first time. It was freezing outside but thankfully a lot of heat generated from the bodies crowding tightly together in line for the clubs. My friend and I waited outside of 440 Castro, apparently well-known for selling beer for just three dollars. We weren’t dressed very colorfully, so I applied glitter to my face, then to his… and then to the couple standing in front of us.

    Once we finally entered, it was nearly impossible to walk. Packed to the brim, we somehow made our way to the back of the bar where they indeed sold beer for just three dollars! We said goodbye to our new acquaintances and bolted for the exit to breathe, finishing our drinks on the outside patio before walking around the other bars and shops.

    Sunday morning arrived at last and we woke up early to drive to the city. Much to our relief, we spotted parking right away and headed for the Embarcadero where the parade would start. There we met and joined a group of familiar faces from Thursday night. The day was extremely sunny and relentlessly hot, though only for short intervals. The wind would pick up consistently enough that I began regretting the short shorts I was wearing. 

    Huddling close together for warmth, we watched the parade go by: a city taken over by the queer community: drag queens, performers, and activists marching with the most colorful and unique signs, banners and flags. Flags for Gay pride, Lesbian Pride, Pansexual pride, Transgender pride, Two-Spirit pride, and POC pride. Allyship pride, Bear pride, Leather Pride, Furry pride…  Any sub-community you could imagine was here and proud. And the crowd clapped and cheered for all of them.

    We followed the parade to the Civic Center where we were rejected from entering because security said our backpacks were too big. So we headed for the bars again. The wind finally seemed to relent, the heat showering down at last. As I sipped on a rum and coke, laughing with friends in the bar’s courtyard, I had a serene moment of reflection and bliss, taking in the warmth of those around me and how special it felt to be surrounded by such love and openness. So much freedom of expression and diversity. I had been a tourist before. And despite no longer living there, I had never felt more at home with familiar faces in every corner. This was the San Francisco I loved.

  • Yes, Emilia Pérez is as Bad as they Say

    Yes, Emilia Pérez is as Bad as they Say

    Rating: 1.5 out of 5.

    Emilia Pérez is a Spanish-language musical crime film about a Mexican notorious and ruthless cartel boss who discreetly undergoes gender affirmation surgery and fakes her death, leaving behind a wife, two children, and a life of crime. After recovering, she starts fresh as Emilia Pérez, and tries to live a moral life by founding a charity to help victims of the cartel. Despite this promising premise, the film offers little more than a sloppy characterization of a trans woman and a surface level depiction of the issues that it attempts to tackle.

    Initially, the film received critical acclaim upon its release, from receiving a standing ovation at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival to the various awards and nominations it has received from the Golden Globes and Academy Awards.

    Slowly but surely, as the buzz about the film grew, and as it reached more audiences, the reaction began to shift online. Audiences criticized the film’s depiction of Mexico from improperly representing the Mexican judicial system to awkwardly written Spanish lyrics. Audiences also criticized the film’s depiction of transness, showcasing a protagonist with an evil, violent, inner-masculine side that comes out when she’s angry. There is an entire song that her children sing about how Emilia smells like their father, the filmmakers seemingly unaware that Emilia, having taken hormones for years, would smell completely different. All of these criticisms could have easily been avoided with the smallest amount of research, which the director, Jacques Audiard openly confessed to doing none of, stating, “No, I didn’t study much. I kinda already knew what I had to understand.” As a result, the missed details expose Emilia Pérez for its laziness and insincere handling of sensitive issues. But the criticism didn’t end there; everything from its performances to its direction to its musical numbers began to receive mockery.

    In mid-January, the increasingly negative public perception of the film came to my attention when I came across a short clip on Instagram featuring the film’s “Vaginoplasty” sequence where Emilia’s lawyer meets with a doctor to discuss gender affirming surgery. The song features these inspired lyrics:

    Hello, very nice to meet you

    I’d like to know about sex change operation

    I see, I see, I see

    Man to woman or woman to man?

    Man to woman

    From penis

    to vagina

    The song continues with a doctor listing different gender affirmation operations while transgender patients undergo and recover from surgery and gawk at the camera.

    I didn’t know what was more shocking about “Vaginoplasty”: the silly lyrics or the unpleasant melody. The instrumentation is ugly, the singing is unimpressive, and the lyrics are blunt and graceless. I could hardly believe this was a real scene in Emilia Pérez, so I decided to see it for myself.

    Two hours and 10 minutes later, my confusion was even stronger. During the first 30 minutes, I was admittedly invested. The movie starts off from the perspective of Emilia’s lawyer, Rita, and learning about Emilia from this perspective adds a lot of mystery. It is easy to be sympathetic when she opens up about her gender dysphoria, but the film doesn’t let the audience forget she is still a dangerous person. When Rita is taking too long to find a doctor to perform the operations, Emilia has henchmen break into her apartment, threatening to kill her if she doesn’t hurry up. They allow Emilia to be complex and human. After she transitions, though, the film acts as though she has instantly been redeemed of any criticism, for both her past and present.

    As Emilia attempts to lead a new and moral life, I waited for the consequences of her past to catch up with her. They don’t. Instead, Emilia invites it all back herself. After four years, she starts to miss her children, so she pretends to be a long-lost cousin and orders her former wife and kids to move in with her. Surely, upon seeing how her “death” affected her wife and children, and after continuing to lie about her identity, Emilia will reflect or feel guilt over the trauma she’s been putting them through, right? No, instead, Emilia is just happy to have them around, wanting them to be as dependent on her as possible.

    Later on, when Emilia starts a nonprofit to help identify the bodies of cartel victims, I waited once again for her to reflect on her past as a vicious cartel boss. But she’s not interested in reflecting, and neither is the movie. The nonprofit is revealed to be funded by corrupt and dangerous donors, and though initially this hypocrisy is called out, Emilia doesn’t care, and the film never brings it up again. Emilia never acts remorseful, nor is she held accountable for her actions. Yet the movie’s finale presents her as a saint-like figure.

    This image released by PATHÉ FILMS via IMDB

    The problems don’t end there. Karla Sofía Gascón and Zoe Saldaña give decent performances, but the same cannot be said of Selena Gomez, who plays Emilia’s wife. At her best, she’s fine; at her worst, she appears like she doesn’t understand the words coming out of her mouth.

    While “Vaginoplasty” is by far the silliest and craziest musical number of the film, most of the songs suffer from underwhelming and occasionally awful vocal performances.

    In spite of all this, Emilia Pérez has already won four awards at the Golden Globes, including for Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy, and it has received 11 nominations at the Academy Awards.  I imagine that its various award wins and nominations will not be looked back at fondly.

    So yes, Emilia Pérez is as bad as they say. The movie is plagued by a lack of authenticity and it pretty much fails on every level: as a musical, a drama, and as an entertaining viewing experience.

  • Playing Dress Up

    Playing Dress Up

    I don’t remember a lot from my childhood. There’s no deeper reason like I’m trying to forget certain events or particular people–it’s not that serious; I simply have a bad memory. However, amongst the collection of things I do remember, like my old childhood best friend’s birthday and Greek alphabet song, are the consecutive Halloweens I spent dressing up as Sleeping Beauty. Everything about the holiday besides my costume is a blur and frankly unimportant. In my memory, it was all about the dress.

    Like many six-year-old girls, my favorite color was pink and this dress was my perfect shade. It had stretchy silk-like straps that looked like scrunchies attached to a tulle off-the-shoulder neckline that revealed my childish decolletage. In the middle sat a pendant with Sleeping Beauty herself. The sleeves were full length and ended at my wrists with a piping of gold stitching. The bodice held the most detail, with a v shape joining in the middle made with that same gold stitching, to create shape where there was none. Fleur de lis littered the top and bottom of the dress and shimmered in the light. I adored this dress, getting much more wear out of it than just once a year. I have a picture of me at six years old wearing it to the mall on a random Monday in August. At the time, I’m sure it was the color that lured me to it, but as I reflect now, it’s apparent that there was a part of me who loved it because I could finally be something that everyone else was. I wasn’t the adopted Asian girl with white parents, I was Sleeping Beauty. I had blond hair and fair skin and a prince who would do anything for me. I may have looked different but my dreams were the same. 

    Eventually, I grew up and the dress was passed on to someone else, and I was still chasing that feeling of belonging. Growing up in a small town meant that I was among only a handful of other Asians. As a whole, I was met with kindness, but to exist meant to stick out, and so I did my best to exist quietly. I fell in with the right crowd: friends from well-known families in the community who were popular but kind, and smart but humble. I excelled in school enough to remain in step with my friends but not enough to be noticed. I participated in student government but ran for historian instead of president, and joined the cheer team, choosing the position that faced away from the audience instead of towards it. I didn’t come out as queer until I was 16, though I knew a lot earlier than that. I couldn’t stand being even more different than I already was, so I sacrificed my love for uniformity. This became my new costume, which I wore comfortably and without hesitation. I didn’t stand out at all, and that’s exactly what I wanted. What felt like a persona at the time became synonymous with who I was. Before I knew it I was floating through life content with being 70% happy, so long as on the outside it looked like I was 100%. I didn’t find that last 30% until I was 22 years old. When I first met my now-girlfriend, I couldn’t believe that life was meant to be this good. The way our lives intertwined so seamlessly made me believe that that’s how it should have been all along. As someone who lives their life with bated breath, I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who felt like fresh air.

    The costume I had eagerly worn to survive had become my skin. It was the good things now that felt like make-believe. I would come home from a day of holding hands and writing love notes and look in the mirror and see a stranger. She looked like me, but there was a quality about her that was different. She shimmered, like how heat radiates off of the pavement on a hot day and how the air almost looks like it’s vibrating. Patches of my old self would reappear in moments of vulnerability or anxiety, but as time went on I started to shed my old skin. 

    It took my whole life to get to this point, but it doesn’t feel like I’m playing dress-up anymore. I used to have to pretend to be someone else to feel like enough, but now there’s no one I’d rather be than myself. I still experience all the hard parts of life, like everyone else, but I can find comfort in knowing that trying to suppress who I am is no longer one of them.

  • Take It or Leave It

    Take It or Leave It

    by Jocelyn Diaz

    I’ve found myself dissociating more than usual. It’s been so hard for my brain to accept that I was in a different country last week, and now, I’m back in California. I went from speaking Spanish in Spain every day, teaching English to young kids, to saying “No, yeah, for sure, I appreciate you asking” when the barista at Peet’s Coffee asks if I want alternative milk. 

    The job search hasn’t exactly been confidence-building, with most companies not directly rejecting me, but simply not responding. I try to tell myself that maybe they’ve found someone already, and simply haven’t taken the advertisement down yet. Then I see the advertisement being reposted a few days later and struggle not to take it personally. Without homework assignments and with no job, I have so much time on my hands, like I’m on summer vacation but it’s January. And I don’t have those anymore anyway since I graduated last June. 

    Even worse, or maybe less ideal, is that I’m back in my hometown. I graduated college a year early for my age, so a lot of my conocidos are no longer on Christmas break and are starting their Winter Quarter. I still get scared that I’ll see someone from middle school or high school, but so far I’ve yet to encounter anyone. 

    I saw this TikTok saying that when you feel like you’re in a slump, you should try one new thing every day to switch up your routine. I sit in the Peet’s parking lot and lazily stir my iced matcha with oat milk because it’s not my new thing to get matcha, more like a reason to leave the house. As I drive away, I think about what will be my thing today, something that’s cheap or free, if that’s even possible. I don’t want to drive aimlessly without a plan because I don’t have the gas money to do so and decide to make my way back to the house when I notice a sign that says “TAKE A BOOK LEAVE A BOOK.” I do a loop around because I’m genuinely curious about what kind of books the general public decides to donate. Plus, I want to pick up something new to read, while I wait for my library card in the mail. 

    I see a lot of self-help books, some cookbooks, and the book 1984. I was half-expecting to see those cheesy romance books with a Fabio-looking man on the cover, holding a swooning woman with one hand. I kinda wanted to read one of those, just for the fun of it. But before I close the door to the little book nook shaped like a birdhouse, I see a cartoon girl on the cover of a book. At first glance, I think it’s a puberty book titled “TOTALLY ME!” Yet the figure of the girl with a short, yellow bob and chunky platform orange sandals is too familiar, and I suddenly remember the show I used to watch every night with my best friend Mimi, Lizzie McGuire. I was named after my grandmother Elizabeth, so I pretended that I was Lizzie, and she was Miranda because that was her name in real life too. On my eighth birthday, when my parents gave me a cat for my birthday, I named him Gordo. We had our version of the show, and it was beautiful and perfect. 

    Once the wave of nostalgia settles down and my judgment of whoever donated a Lizzie McGuire book, much less who wouldn’t want to take it home, I realize it’s a diary, not a book. I quickly skim through the leftover pages; the missing ones likely ripped out by the previous owner to maintain confidentiality. I imagine using the cover as a collage in my diary, which is good enough for me for my “something new.” 

    When I get home, I set up my desk with my collaging supplies and rip off the journal’s cover, which loosens its spine and causes a few pages to fall on my floor. I grab the last page of the pile and notice the imprint of words left behind by this mystery writer become more prominent through the light from my lamp. Luckily, I remember how popular invisible ink pens were in the early 2000s, as I hold the page closer to the lamp and can make out more words. And as invasive as it feels, I can’t stop reading.  

    Dear Diary, 

    We watched Lizzie McGuire, all night, again. JK! It was like 10 pm. Her bedtime was 8 pm but we wanted to keep watching TV, so anytime we heard footsteps, we turned down the TV and pretended to be asleep. It was so much fun! Lizzie keeps saying that Miranda is so beautiful. That she loves her crazy hair and style. I notice that her saying these words makes my stomach warm and fuzzy. IDK why. Lizzie is my BFF and I am hers. Like when I say my prayers every night, I always pray for her the most. Is this what God feels like when he thinks of me? Mom says that I’m God’s treasure. That I’m his favorite person. I know what he means. Lizzie is pretty, smart, and super cool. I love her sooo much. Don’t tell anyone Diary, but I think I like-like her. What am I going to do? 

    Love, Miranda 

    Tears well in my eyes. I always told her that Miranda was my first TV show character crush on a girl. My Miranda, or Mimi, as she has gone by since high school, had a crush on me when we were kids. I had no idea. Oh my god. Did I like her too? Oh my god. 

    I forget about the collage altogether, and, instead, scurry up to the attic and quickly rummage through box after box, not caring about the mess I’m making right now. 

    Eventually, my hands find the same diary as Mimi’s, as if there was a two-for-one diary discount at the store. I run back to my room to open the diary, leaving the attic worse than before. Again, pages are ripped out for some reason as I frantically scan each page under my lamp with no trace of invisible ink. Until I find one page. 

    Hi,

    Mom says that I need to try journaling for my anxiety. I don’t know why I feel so sad and scared all the time. Watching Lizzie McGuire with Miranda helps me. Just having her next to me makes me calmer. IDK if she knows but watching the show with her is my favorite part of the day. We both have bangs like Lizzie and Miranda, and one time her hair was sticking up like when you rub a balloon on your head. I tried to smooth it down with my hands and then my cheeks got warm so I drank water and looked in the mirror and my face was as red as a tomato. It was so weird. Miranda is my BFF and every time we have a sleepover I always tell her I love her just in case something happens. She always says it back. That makes me happy. Anyways, my hand hurts, and writing in a journal is stupid. And no, stupid isn’t a bad word. 

    – Lizzie 

    I trace over her writing in pen and send Mimi a picture of her diary entry without thinking about how out of the blue it is. Before I can figure out a follow-up text to the picture, she responds immediately.

    Surprise?

    I text her back a picture of my entry, also rewritten in dark ink.

    Surprise.