Living Authentically Books
Showing 1-15 of 15

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.37 — 2,590 ratings — published 1989

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.19 — 500,094 ratings — published 1997

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.13 — 841,038 ratings — published 2020

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 3.79 — 42,319 ratings — published 2022

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 3.93 — 127,147 ratings — published 2013

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 3.88 — 592 ratings — published 2021

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.04 — 25 ratings — published

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.29 — 238,599 ratings — published 2012

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.25 — 217,544 ratings — published 2010

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.07 — 3,187 ratings — published 1989

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 0.0 — 0 ratings — published

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.47 — 217 ratings — published 2021

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.13 — 33,549 ratings — published 2021

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 3.78 — 2,740 ratings — published 2020

by (shelved 1 time as living-authentically)
avg rating 4.13 — 9,977 ratings — published 1998

“Being queer was like holding the golden ticket to a club nobody wanted to go to. I had no idea that once I blasted down those closet doors, with their bouncers of fear, religion, and internal bias, the club would be lit. The way a party can be when everyone inside finally knows what it means to come home.
My queerness is a Tupperware container (thank god) that nobody will ever find a lid for. A box that cannot be closed. The reclamation of wholeness over goodness, transforming the perpetual misfit into one holy hell of a celebration.
Owning my queerness was like learning the desert floor was once the bottom of the ocean, meaning the towering 200-year-old saguaro watching over me was somehow born underwater. It is the dogged insistence on coloring outside of every single line.
It is the refusal to accept a singular definition that makes the word witch at me finally feel at home in the spaces where words are left behind.
My queerness rests its foundation on a ground named freedom. I speak it loudly because I have the freedom to do so without fear of reprisal or harm. I claim this life of mine under the rainbow and the complexity of the history it has given me fiercely.
To love a woman in a world that said I must not will never be anything but a revolution.
And when I kiss her, trust me, entire galaxies are mine.”
―
My queerness is a Tupperware container (thank god) that nobody will ever find a lid for. A box that cannot be closed. The reclamation of wholeness over goodness, transforming the perpetual misfit into one holy hell of a celebration.
Owning my queerness was like learning the desert floor was once the bottom of the ocean, meaning the towering 200-year-old saguaro watching over me was somehow born underwater. It is the dogged insistence on coloring outside of every single line.
It is the refusal to accept a singular definition that makes the word witch at me finally feel at home in the spaces where words are left behind.
My queerness rests its foundation on a ground named freedom. I speak it loudly because I have the freedom to do so without fear of reprisal or harm. I claim this life of mine under the rainbow and the complexity of the history it has given me fiercely.
To love a woman in a world that said I must not will never be anything but a revolution.
And when I kiss her, trust me, entire galaxies are mine.”
―

“Life can sometimes seem an endless experience in compromise, in bending into the break, in the give + take + lead + follow of interconnection. This is all so good and necessary to building a community of souls, trusting that we are not in this world on our own, learning the power of leaning into the collective good. And yet. There are spaces and places and ideals in my life that are not open to discussion, not up for negotiation, not an invitation to debate or argue or compromise. Leading this list are the terms of my own freedom, the ways I have learned to know and name my ownership of this one life I am living. I have come to name this sense of ownership my personal sovereignty. It is mine and mine alone. The container of this sovereignty—what it includes and leaves behind, the way it moves through the world, how it dances with others—all of this may change a million times over, but that is mine and mine alone to decide.”
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