It’s never a secret. For the first time in Kara’s thirteen years on Earth, there’s no great revelation. There isn’t anything to reveal.
This weight that she’s carried with her into every relationship outside the Danvers that she’s ever tried to build since she landed—it suddenly becomes inconsequential, when they’re together. The fact that Kara is Kryptonian, that she is Supergirl. The distinction between Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El and National City’s resident hero. The deception; the disguise.
There’s no pretense between them, no pretending, no parts to play. They meet in the ring as Supergirl and Miss Martian, and then a few days later Kara Danvers shows up at the alien bar—and M’gann knows. It’s not something she needs to deduce or figure out after they’ve known each other a while. She just looks at Kara and she knows—it’s just a simple unconscious observation, as clear to see as the gold of Kara’s hair or the blue of her eyes.
M’gann slides Kara an Aldebaran rum and Kara doesn’t even realize that she’s still wearing her glasses.
I talked to my boss about politics today because he was voting early (busy tomorrow). Normally this is a terrifying concept because he’s a staunch Liberal voter but he did mention he’s not quite set on them this time round for the state election so we discussed it. His reasoning for Liberals: better economic management. I pointed out that WA is really bad off economically… He rebutted with bringing up two things that were federal issues, not state (and also not that great reasons for Liberals being better anyway) and admitted he didn’t know as much about politics as I did. This was a great opportunity to point out how other parties had better policies (and why) and so even though he didn’t confirm who he was voting for he did leave with the impression of doubt in Liberals. It gives me a bit of faith in the election tomorrow. So remember everyone: have political discussions with people. Their opinions aren’t always as set in stone as you think. You can actually change them for the better.
My voice rings down through thousands of years
To coil around your body and give you strength,
You who have wept in direct sunlight,
Who have hungered in invisible chains,
Tremble to the cadence of my legacy:
An army of lovers shall not fail.
Rita Mae Brown, 1971
we’re going to be ok. it might take a while, but i know we will see a brighter future. I believe in us, and I believe in the strength and love of our communities. if you need anybody to talk to, I, and I know countless others are here. we will get through this together, and we will prevail.
“Boys don’t like skinny girls.” “You look like a boy.” “Grow some tits.” “Flat girls are ugly.” This one stuck in my mind for some reason: “You’re so ugly not even a rapist would want to touch you.” This came from the boys who bullied me for three years.
I have so many insecurities about my body. I was told by the people who bullied me and harassed me for three years, from the media constantly telling me that only an hourglass figure is attractive, from constantly being rejected in favor of curvier girls who wore tight tank tops and tiny shorts and bent over tables to let boys look down their shirts and see their lacy Victoria’s Secret bras, while I wore baggy shirts and dresses and cried every time my mother took me bra shopping because I hated my body that I thought was unlovable and undesirable and ugly. And then I would hate myself for basing my self worth on whether or not people thought I was beautiful because I thought it made me a bad feminist.
I still do not believe that I am beautiful. But I‘m on the way. To everyone out there that doesn’t believe that they are beautiful, I promise you will get there one day and I will be there with you. It’s a long, hard journey. But I believe in us.