I thought something looked familiar about OP, so here goes. I'll probably make the ignore list for turning this into a /b/ trap thread.
"Cassie Le Chat" is most likely also "Katrina Elisse Caudle" a transexual person. You might have mentioned that in your OP.
Similarities?
OP has a blockchain based game.
Katrina Elisse Caudle started a game called "Fairie Dark" later called DarkMoon City or somesuch. Google is your friend.
https://matthewkirshenblatt.wordpress.com/2014/02/20/a-travelers-account-of-katrina-elisse-caudles-dark-moon-city/
Now we have the photo from original post here: http://i.imgur.com/EH5ZwG4.jpg?1
Which we can compare with THESE GOOGLE SEARCH RESULTS of Katrina Elisse Caudle.
I'm pretty convinced that we're not dealing with a biological woman here peeps.
"Cassie Le Chat" is most likely also "Katrina Elisse Caudle" a transexual person. You might have mentioned that in your OP.
Similarities?
OP has a blockchain based game.
Katrina Elisse Caudle started a game called "Fairie Dark" later called DarkMoon City or somesuch. Google is your friend.
https://matthewkirshenblatt.wordpress.com/2014/02/20/a-travelers-account-of-katrina-elisse-caudles-dark-moon-city/
Now we have the photo from original post here: http://i.imgur.com/EH5ZwG4.jpg?1
Which we can compare with THESE GOOGLE SEARCH RESULTS of Katrina Elisse Caudle.
I'm pretty convinced that we're not dealing with a biological woman here peeps.
http://queerofgender.com/post/111786443998/year-of-the-femme-katrina-elisse-caudle
[Image description: Katrina Elisse Caudle, a mixed race femme with afro hair wearing a red and gold scarf, a white sweater falling off her shoulder and glasses, looks off to her right as she hold a jacket in her arms and plays with her fingers]
Last weekend, I stepped onto a stage to perform with my choir. I took adeep breath, filled my lungs with air, and realized as I was about to sing my first note that I was absolutely head over heels in love with forty femmes.
I didn’t always identify as a femme. I came from the land of androgynous prairie dykes with bikes - which was its own kind of fun but had very little for me in the way of seeing myself reflected in the queer community. It was also ripe with biphobia and whorephobia. As a sex worker and a person identifying as bisexual, those phobias made my community a space fraught with anxiety and subtle daily rejection that fray the nerves of my being.
The afternoon I started identifying as femme, I was driving with my masculine of center then-girlfriend who shared some of the queer history around femmes and sex work. I felt something in me crack just a little. Here was a piece that spoke to me, an element of queer life and history that I could see myself in beyond who I was attracted to. I felt a strong, spontaneous kinship to these unknown femmes.
Seven months later when I moved to the West Coast, I was at my lowest point. I was experiencing the second wave of what would become a chronic health problem and I was running from some serious mistakes, trying to find space to heal and somehow make sense of the mess of my life. I didn’t know if I was going to survive. On a whim, I joined a new choir that was starting up. It was described as being a choir specifically for femmes of all genders. With no friends and no real anchor, it was the first tether of a few that would do the important work of keeping me alive. Every Thursday, with the exception of the weeks when I was not well enough to leave my apartment, I have invested in the slow, beautiful work of building a femme community.
To say that joining this choir changed my life seems like such pale words in comparison to the gifts I have been given.
Femme City Choir has been a safer space to enjoy and share beauty. I have been loved and supported in sharing my voice, a source of repressed power in my life. Though we have had conflicts and problematic moments, we always, without fail, greet each other in love as we navigate how to deconstruct the behaviours that we have learned outside this space.
Femme City Choir has been a space where I have been seen and heard as a queer person. It is a space where my queerness and gender are not questioned. It is a space where my queerness is not seen only through the lens of who I show up with and not compared against a skinny white andro-masculinity that I will never possess. It is a space that not only encourages but celebrates our differences. We have femmes who id as women, femmes who id as men, femmes who id as non-binary and more. We learn to celebrate words like diva and don’t have it forced on us. We shake off our shame about loving pop songs and glitter, all the while using our sharp and sophisticated collective politics to change what can be changed around us. We don’t shy away from accountability. If we don’t like the racist or ableist lyrics to a song, we change them. If we aren’t sure we’re into the message of a song, we discuss it.
We are naturally growing and sharing community outside our practice room as well. We have gone on to do art projects together, organize other events, create care packages, hold discussions, and rally in emergencies more than once.
My femmes keep me accountable. I have made the most amazing friends who lift me up and make me better for challenging me and sharing their experience and wisdom. My femmes have taught me how to shine in a room of lights that are also shining. My femmes have taught me not to be ashamed of my femininity. Being with them in community spaces has also given me space to explore my masculinity because I do not have to be so fiercely protective of my femininity; because I know it is valuable. My gender journey has become a space that feels so much more holistic and rooted in love than I have had the opportunity for before.
We are a family born of the love of our two choir directors, an ever-growing love that each of us has been touched by and are building on in our own unique ways. Self love, friendship, and romance all exist in the space we make and together we are becoming strong.
We are not letting the status quo stand. We are dismantling and changing the problems we see in the world and the queer communities we inhabit. We are using the skills, sensitivities, adeptness at emotional labour and more that we bring to relationships with our lovers to teach each other. Some of us are shy, some of us are outgoing, some of us work social justice jobs, are caregivers, or do office work. Some of us love makeup and glitter, some of us could do without it. We all look different, we are many ways of being femme, but we have a kinship through femme identity that links us together.
We are mighty, we are reborn, and it is the year of the femme. Femme phoenixes forever.
Author Bio: My name is Katrina Elisse Caudle. I am an artist, writer, event organizer, and community activist living in Vancouver, BC on occupied Coast Salish Territory. I am a mixed race, black, polyglamorous, chronically ill femme whose purpose in life is to “make it enchanting, make it exquisite”. My favourite thing to do is my interactive story telling project “Darkmoon City” built with short stories, games, twine, and events. I am also part of the QueerofGender Committee, organize femme-centered queer events in Vancouver, and am a part of the collective that runs Spoken Works – a recurring event that showcases the words and songs of QTIPOCs (queer, trans, indigenous, people of colour). You can also find me on Twitter.
You're seriously commenting with a rating? Wtf is wrong with you boys? You should give your money to all women to apologize for how inept you are.
