Save Misfit Manor: A Queer Anarchist Homestead Needs Your Help

PLEASE HELP NICKY REID.

I think a lot of people take words like ‘home’ and ‘family’ for granted, and I suppose I was one of them. I grew up in what I thought was a pretty stable home, a three-bedroom house with loving parents who never actually hit me. But I didn’t know what safety felt like until I was 33 because the stable suburban existence of my seemingly idyllic childhood was dependent on the secrets I kept. About the confusing gender identity that the church my family revered promised eternal damnation for.