Just how far can the girlboss bride's wedding-day deviance take her? Are her wedding-day glories any guarantee that her marriage will indeed be a site of feminist liberation?
I routinely traverse a minefield of reminders that I am living a double life. While I put on my best online activist hat and pontificate about queer rights being human rights, I deliberately omit doing so from the stance of a queer person. I am what you might term ‘partially closeted’.
For as long as I can remember, I have been fat—first, a chubby kid and then, an overweight adult. Somehow, it never bothered me. No one spoke about dieting or achieving a target weight in my family. I was happy the way I was, or so I thought.
