Prism & Pen

An online journal of compelling LGBTQ fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. Calling on all readers and writers with LGBTQ flair to join us on Medium dot com slash prismnpen

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Zig Zag, A Multi-Polar identity: A poem

Knowing all along and trying not to be, then, discovery

Multi- polar identity, not an Illness. Moving back and forth...

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Am I Trans Enough? Why So Many Trans Women Feel Like Frauds

The psychology behind the imposter syndrome, self-doubt, passing anxiety, and impossible standards

What evidence would finally convince you that you are really a woman?Maybe another surgery? Or probably looking female enough in someone else's eyes? Or knowing that you transitioned a couple of years earlier than another trans woman?

In reality, no amount of evidence may ever be sufficient. The problem is not a lack of proof, but the belief that you constantly have something to prove.

That is your imposter syndrome talking to you.

Hi, I'm Kira, a transgender woman and a counsellor specialising in transgender care. Imposter syndrome is extremely common among trans women and takes many different forms. Today, we'll discuss just a few facets of it, the ones I notice most frequently among the transgender people I talk and work with.

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A.I. Presents a Threat to LGBTQIA+ Folks

A corporate brand deems Megan Rapinoe “a risk” because of her pro-trans views

On July 14th, Conde Nast’s queer-and-trans-centric online publication Them reported that Megan Rapinoe was booted from an ad campaign intended to be aired during 2026 World Cup broadcasts.

In an opinion piece published in Marie Claire Magazine, Rapinoe described being pulled at the last minute from this still undisclosed advertising campaign:

The brand had recently implemented AI software that flagged potential talent for “risk.” Mine was that I spoke in support of trans rights.

Two disturbing realities are being revealed here:

1. Corporations are becoming more skittish about any association with trans causes and/or trans allies.

2. Either A.I. is being programmed to reflect anti-trans attitudes or it lacks the objective judgment to identify and disregard a zone intentionally flooded with hateful, politically motivated disinformation.

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Rachel’s Public Debut — My Trans Trip To Meet a Fellow Medium Member

Peak — Part Three of a serial

“It’s beautiful, you can see why Wordsworth and the like would wax lyrical over this…”

Kay Luna is talking about the scenery that stretches for miles atop a large hill in the Peak District of England. We had a route for our walk, but then went a little off-piste by chatting more than map-reading. On a hot summer’s Sunday in July, we can’t see another soul, save for the tractor in the distance going to and fro in the field. From a distance, anyone looking would see two women at the summit.

We pause for a moment to take in the geographical and very literal high point of the walk. We’ve been talking for hours at this point, but for a few minutes, we’re left alone in our own thoughts. I don’t ask what Kay is thinking, but as a very candid woman, she would have told me. We’d met in person for the first time this morning. By mid-afternoon I felt I’d known her forever. We spoke about everything and anything — from our shared love of a sneaky Burger King at the Motorway Services, to themes of anarchy and overt communism in a video game.

But, sometimes a picture says a thousand words. Sometimes the things unsaid in the moment are the most powerful.

Later, when I’ll drive home and think about what the day meant to me, I’ll find the words at last.

Two women on a hill and one of them being me would be the psychological peak for me.

Cementing a new friendship is an emotional peak.

But I hadn’t started the day relaxed and content. I started the day like I finished the day before, my chest beating hard and slapping my rib cage like a bassist in a band.

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Naked: A multi-verse haiku about self affirmation

I’m out to my reflection

Naked, exposed, truth Mirror speaks about its view Do they see me too?

Comb my tangled hair...

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The Green Party: How to Stand Up for the Marginalised

The future is green

It would perhaps be a bit of an understatement to say that Britain has been dealing with some obvious, major problems with resurging bigotry across the country. What makes this noteworthy is that this resurgent bigotry is not something confined to only one group, and also that these various forms of bigotry have pretty significant support from politicians and major public figures.

Rising racism is something which has really started to become a problem in Britain in recent times. In 2024, we saw major race riots across Britain, and last month, race riots broke out in Belfast, Northern Ireland. This is not to say that racism was not a problem in Britain prior to these instances, but the much more overt form we’ve seen would have been unthinkable some years ago.

Throughout all of this, we’ve also seen a major rise in homophobia and transphobia, especially over the last few years. This point hardly needs explaining, as most queer people around the world are aware of how big of a problem transphobia in Britain is, with the likes of Joanne Rowling and Graham Linehan being major voices for the anti-trans right in British politics.

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New Sydney LGBTQIA+ Arts Venue Shut Down after Catholic Protest

Abuse, victimisation, threats. Just another day at the queer coalface

First the fun facts.

The organisers of a new LGBTQI+ Sydney nightclub, originally named The Unholy Playhouse, (subsequently renamed The Divine Playhouse) announced they have elected to close the venue and cancel all events after receiving a breach notice from their the landlord.

Heaps Gay Events, who have been in operation since 2013, were ordered to stop engaging in “offensive trade” at the deconsecrated church, or risk lease termination following protests from religious groups.

This notice was received following a protest from Christian groups after three peaceful performance events.

That’s right folks, after just three.

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Destiny Awaits — My Trans Trip to Meet a Fellow Medium Member

Periphery — Part Two Of A Serial

At 9pm Saturday evening, I leave my corner of the country to meet fellow Medium member

Kay Luna. Kay lives in the opposite corner of our island, so location is one of the few things we haven’t had in common so far. Our shared love of long walks and aversion to throngs of people mean that meeting in the middle for a hike in the remote parts of England is a perfect plan.

Although I’d gone with my sister on a road trip last year as Rachel, I’d held myself back a little. My self-expression then was enough to draw quizzical looks, but I was metaphorically flying an LGBTQ rainbow flag more than the blue, pink and white transgender one. I was clearly femme and fancy, but I didn’t always fully express myself.

My sister has of course, known me the longest and knew the person that came before.

Kay is the first person who will meet me as Rachel having only ever known me as Rachel. If I am to live as a woman full-time one day, I have to stop using femme-to-androgynous as a crutch. If I am to respect myself as a transgender woman and a queer writer, I have to be brave enough to let Kay meet me. I cannot hide as “him” because Kay never knew him. The stakes are set — aside from the femme to unisex ensemble I drove up in, my bag has only my belongings, none of “his.”

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Queer Lessons from the Zucchini Alert

What trusting my husband’s cooking taught me about listening, survival, and seeing what others see

My husband is an excellent cook. This is great for me, because I am an excellent eater. That doesn’t mean I’m not picky. I’m very picky. My mother was not a great cook, and that’s part of the reason I have so many food phobias.

Texture also plays a big role in what I will and will not put in my mouth. Steve, my husband, knows all about these things, and when he wants me to try something that I’ve never had before, he knows how to build up to it.

I fight him every step of the way, because I’m basically a 6-year-old boy in a 65-year-old body. I’ll eat any cake you put in front of me, but it better be chocolate. If you’re making something I’ve never had before, I’m not even going to look at it. Steve knows this and has worked out a way to cook for me, that doesn’t require me to look at strange new foods, it only requires me to trust him.

I am thankful for Steve and his patience with my food peculiarities. He helps me navigate the world more easily.

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A Slave to the Urge: A poem, a paradox

I couldn’t help it

I couldn’t help it, I was driven, like a slave, from her master’s whip. It did not seem real, Shame, beyond the pain...

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You Screamed the F-Slur at Me… And I Mouthed it Behind Your Back

Talking like our oppressor, when we lose the courage to fight him

As I tapped my card at the turnstile, I clocked a handsome young man a few paces behind me, with a brisk gait, a sharp stubbly jawline, shoulder-length brown hair, and a pair of old-fashioned headphones painted teal.

I held the door for him before descending the stairs. I could feel him close behind me, his urgency pulsing through me. I knew it’d be tough to start talking to a man with such massive headphones. But it was worth a shot.

A couple paces down the platform, I paused to let him get closer, hoping to catch his eye. A day after a heavy rainstorm, I dared to step onto the slick yellow strip that lets you know you’re dangerously close to the edge.

And just as he entered my periphery, another man started shouting at us —

Bunch of f@ggots, man! Yeah, that’s right, y’all a bunch of f@ggots!

I kept walking. The young man and I never spoke, and with his headphones on, I doubt he even heard what the shouting man said… But I heard it.

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If You Love Someone LGBT, Quit Throwing Them Under the Bus

Meanwhile, I’ll focus on the good and take the high road

For years, decades actually, I’ve let my family off the hook for votes that hurt me as a gay person. Those days are over.

It is not as if my family and I are best friends. I moved from my home state of Minnesota to my now-home of California many years ago and return only every year or two for a wedding, graduation, or reunion. Our relationships, while not deep, have been warm and pleasant. It turns out that’s not enough. People think that to feel love is enough. But don’t abusive husbands love their wives?

Love has to be shown.

Ironically, thanks for my newfound spine go to Donald Trump. Past administrations hurt, but a basic level of civility made it hard to draw a line. I was swayed by, “We love you but there are other issues involved.” Now, obscene levels of megalomania, callousness, corruption, xenophobia, and gaslighting have given me the push I needed.

Since first coming out 40 years ago, I have made little effort to advance the conversation. Maybe it was guilt for foisting my gayness on them. Maybe my self-esteem was in the crapper. I never expected more from them than I was certain I would do myself, which, conveniently for them, we will never know. I focused on the good and took the high road. “When they go low, we go high.”

But going high doesn’t mean accepting mistreatment.

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You’ll Never Walk Alone — My Trans Trip to Meet a Fellow Medium Member

Prologue — Part One Of A Serial

Booked.

A nervy click the night before confirms the hotel I will stay in — no flexibility, no cancellations. No breakfast either as I’m sure I’ll be too anxiety riddled to eat.

I will make my way to the hotel as him, and I plan to emerge as myself in the morning — a budget hotel chain acting as a chrysalis for me. I’m excited and nervous because I’m meeting fellow editor

Kay Luna, and we’re celebrating the launch of our new publication by meeting up. In real life.

Sure, I’ve been out as myself in broad daylight mingling with the general population before, but that was sans wig and with my sister.

This time I am meeting someone who didn’t know me before, and Kay is going to find out if the woman can back up the words.

The room I do most of my writing in suddenly feels a lot hotter.

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A Personal Message to Us All in the LGBTQ+ Community: You’re Strong Enough

An inspiring story about my grandfather escaping the Nazis

Life is hard, sometimes especially, and for some people, in certain circumstances even more especially.

For LGBTQ+ people (and everyone else who finds themselves on the outside of some majority or normatively-held view), there’s no denying that life can be hard. It can feel like there’s no place for you, no end to the problems and challenges, and even when you find acceptance or peace of mind, it’s tenuous. You never know what even the very next social interaction will bring, and too often, it’s something-not-good.

Many times, in my life, I have felt like giving up. A couple of times I have withdrawn from life to a dangerous degree, once for several years. And yes, a few times I have stood on that precipice. Literally.

But here I am.

I’d like to tell you where I have found strength, even and especially when I was at the end of my rope and all my resources had been exhausted. Yes, it has happened. And it sucked. And yes, I did make it through.

The reasons why are universal. They are every person’s ancestral legacy. Even though your own sources of strength will differ in the details, you have them. Everyone does. So let me tell you a story….

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I Had My First Gay Crush on Sam Neill (RIP)

The passing of a much-loved actor, Sam Neill (1947–2026)

I knew I was gay when I was 11, and this is thanks to Sam Neill. News has just broken — literally, in the last hour — that the beloved New Zealand star of screens big and small has passed away in Sydney, aged 78. I was just sitting down at my laptop, making a start on my Monday morning emails here in Berlin, when my mum sent me a text saying, “Sam neill RIP.”

This is a gut-punch for a lot of reasons. Jurassic Park (1993) has sat in my top-five list of films for just about the entire span of my adult life, and the framed poster I have of that film has been pinned to every bedroom wall in England, Australia, and Germany across the last decade.

But the biggest impact Sam Neill had on me, personally — and Neill is actor who was very personal to a lot of people, who love him for so many of the different roles he played — is that he was the first man I had a crush on.

Amidst the confusing flurry of puberty, I wasn’t sure what caught my eye — or why — but my first indications came from a surprising source. After school one evening, my parents were watching Memoirs of an Invisible Man (1992).

I had no idea what it was — and I still haven’t seen it today, as it’s famously a bit crap — yet I was stunned into dead stillness in my living room that day, mesmerised by the face I saw on the TV.

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Putting the Civil Back in Civilisation for Queer People

How do we make progress when regression seems the order of the day?

I’ve just looked out the window, the trees are still losing their leaves as the mild Sydney winter progresses. I can hear cars moving up and down the street. A couple of kids from the apartment at the end of my row are playing outside.

It all seems so completely normal, but I wonder, was this what it felt like in 1938 in Berlin? Everything completely usual, until it wasn’t. An orderly predictable world turning upside down after a few days of rioting and government sanctioned violence against a minority.

Were the perpetrators people like my neighbours? The grumpy guy who works at the local garage? The bloke who makes my coffee on the corner?

Or were they not the perpetrators, but those who would just turn away, pretending they were elsewhere, staying silent, claiming they had no knowledge of any such ‘alleged activities?’

Things have changed in our world. These days instead of helping one’s neighbour, people are far more likely to put up a higher fence.

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Five Banned Books You Need For Your Bookshelf Today

The LGBTQIA+ and BIPOC books we all need to be reading right now.

When I was fourteen, my Dad found my pile of books that my best friend had introduced me to.

He took them from me, looked them over, said he found smut in them, and decided that my friend was a bad influence on me and trying to lead me astray.

He took my books away, and I don’t know what he did with them. I was so upset I couldn’t read them.

Then, he banned me from ever seeing my friend again.

The books he was horrified that I would read? The Clan of the Cave Bear series.

My friend was older than me and a lot cooler. I was very sheltered in a strict Mormon culture, and her parents were much more evolved than mine. They allowed her to make choices and helped guide her to learn from her mistakes rather than controlling her every move.

My friend and I found a way around my Dad’s iron fist, and she continued to share books with me to further my education in the ways of the world that my parents seemed hell-bent on sheltering me from.