Cassie Q

So this drawing was in line to be posted last week but I didn't because it felt weird to be posting about my sex life, but then I concluded this is not a sex life, it's a Woody Allen rant. That's what it is, essentially. Being a woman is a Woody Allen rant more often than not, for me. When I drew this a few months back I had decided I would never ignore my rant modes again, so I drew it to celebrate that discovery. I had ignored all the red flags I saw, rationalizing that foo

My start into the adventures of dating happened later than I care to admit in a page with these many strangers, but suffice to say, it was late. The reason for that is that I didn't quite know how to be a woman with a disability, as I was only ever taught how to be a genderless sexless creature. And maybe in the future I'll offer more details on just how bumpy that change was, but the point today is that change happened, regardless of how confusing it was, I finally found my

If you're a person with a visible disability then you're no stranger to the general assumption that you don't have sex, not now and not ever, and that consequently, you have no clue what the grown ups are even talking about at any grown up party you happened to get stuck in. This was difficult to post because, among other reasons, I no longer relate to this Cassie, and probably should have posted this many moons ago. Truth is, at the time of this drawing, sex wasn't available

This drawing is one of my favorite works so far, and I think the point of posting it is more about sharing something others might relate to rather than an explanation or lecture or anything like that. It was inspired by a making out... (Session? Thingy? Situation? Let's go with situation) I had with a boy who casually implied he was doing all the work, and it made me think a lot about how much I need to be maneuvered, not just in sexual experiences but in my every day life, b

It is my belief that a supportive family is the greatest privilege someone can have. While mine never lacked in love, my folks have always struggled with chaos - orderly people who don't like things to be out of place and would rather deny what can't be fixed than to look at it. It's interesting how it works for people with disabilities, we usually come from abled families who had no clue their kid would turn out to be so completely different from what they expected, and the

Thirst By Brenda Ovando You. with giving words whispering validations into my ear oh baby, let me drink you down deep let me get drunk on the brief contact we keep when we are apart the precious liquid of your essence warms this lonely love i will mold yearning into something concrete please, just one more drink. #love #sex

Sexual objectification. We've all been there, right? No, no we haven't. It used to hurt me so much to hear about how all women are objectified, because even knowing it's not something they feel happy about, it had never happened to me and it made me feel less woman because of it. Now, I understand that this can lead to truly horrifying events, but that's not my story to tell. Most disabilities come with their own set of objectification as sexless beings, and the story I tell

I always felt like making out was something way above my reach, something that no one would want to do with an unmovable box. Now I'm starting to open up to using other resources, so we'll see how that goes. The fact is, that for better or for worse, box dating takes a deep challenging of all boxed ideals of what love has to look like, and I feel ready to find the person willing to explore other shapes with me. - for the first one #love #sex

So, about romance and disabilities. Well meaning friends will always tell me it can totally happen, look how many disabled people we see being happily married and whatnot, and I see that, but I honestly don't see any signs of it happening for me, despite my relentless search everywhere - and I mean EVERYWHERE - I go, to the point where it's as ridiculous as this very empirical comic that I drew back when I was still straight. I'm sort of waiting for it to fall off the sky: li

The Red Story is the tale of how my heart died, as well as the unintentional participation of a woman named Audrey in it. We started with the last posted piece, 'Winter', about how my offering was rejected and I lost all the sunlight. I suppose I have started by the climax. Today, I share my reaction to that event, which was wishing for a different outcome. The outcome I wished for was one where we could have offered our hearts to one another. I wished for the chance to rip m