After an unhappy stint in the nuthouse, where I was committed when the counsellor at my catholic college learned I was a lesbian and, worse, didn’t want to change, I found the heady and redemptive days of 70s feminism, where politics ended where sex began and vice versa.
Like what seemed like the entire Ottawa lesbian feminist cadre, I moved to Vancouver in 1981.
With Persimmon Blackbridge, I did Still Sane, a sculpture project and later a book about my experience as a lesbian in the nuthouse—sadly common in those days when being queer was listed as a psychosis in the DSM (psychiatrists’ bible).
I’ve been published in feminist periodicals, including Sinister Wisdom; and have just finished my second book, Mistaken Identity, about my experience being (mis)taken as a man.
I am doing a blog in hopes that others who have had experiences similar to mine will share them here. I haven’t seen them talked about much elsewhere.
So… write on, sisters!