"... try to keep a brave face."
Here's a shocking twist for everyone who's ever read this blog: I believe that having heroes is essential to growing up, especially in American society. I've said this before, but I think it's a little like encouraging someone to drink water: it's almost never a bad idea.
Furthermore, I'm fully aware that I keep pressing this issue, and I'm not sorry for that. If you, the reader, find yourself bored, you're welcome to find a blog that's more entertaining for you. I'll still be here, hoping that my words will get through to the public at large, but also most especially to the parents of transyouth and to the people who make the societal decisions that affect transyouth's well-being - that make societal decisions for everyone's well-being, really.
To me, the importance of this message, of the importance of heroism and heroic figures in young people's lives - especially the transyouth community - is a matter that bears repeating until my fingers can't type any more. Here's one of the principle reasons why I think it's so important.
The list comes courtesy of the Facebook page "I'm transgender. And proud!" I encourage everyone who cares about supporting transyouth to visit the page and support the message of support and equality found thereupon - again, for everyone's benefit, not just for the benefit of transyouth.
Now, I'm not so naive as to suggest that having heroes will stop suicides, of course. I just think it's a very important piece of the puzzle.
I also think it's an absolute travesty that young girls of all kinds have so few heroes in their entertainment. Even with the massive saturation of media that typifies American children's upbringing, the images of women that are presented aren't often positive as far as strong role models are concerned.
.png)
For the unfamiliar, the image above is a clip from an infamous Audi advertisement that ran during the 2013 Superbowl in which a man drives to a prom and then forcibly grabs and kisses a woman without any indication of any kind of consent whatsoever on her part. The ad's copy? "Bravery. It's what defines us."
A brief aside: do let Audi know what you think with this link to their contact information.
Keep up the public pressure. It might not change things in the advertising industry, but it might mean someone else might think twice before promoting sexual assault as a sign of personal courage. Maybe.
Kids aren't ignorant of these issues of sexism, either.
They see it.
They may not be able to articulate it, but the message does get through to them.
In my case, I remember that from time to time I would get this intense feeling of discomfort over not having role models anywhere, not having people who behaved the way I behaved, people who I could identify as seeing themselves the way I saw myself. My own childhood experiences taught me that I had to make a choice: adapt or wither, be resilient or succumb.
But here's something I think most every parent knows: kids who are faced with those kinds of challenges often prove that they are, in fact, more adaptive and resilient than anyone gives them credit for being. A parent gets to see a kid look right square in the eye of a sometimes-hostile world and defy all expectations by taking on challenges that might break someone who "knows better" than to fight against it.
Likewise, transkids almost have to be like this, if they want to survive childhood. Transkids often have to make do with even less of the world, by definition, because adults put so much of the world out of their reach, often by design. Transkids have no choice but to adapt, because there are so many people out there telling them constantly the limits of what they can be, but also often telling them that their very existence is a mistake - or, worse, a lie; these are the kind of people who won't even acknowledge the a child's need to have an appropriate restroom in a public place; or, people who want to use that need as a means to condemn these children, their parents and those who support them.
What I try to remember, to keep me sane, is that there's progress - no matter how slow it might be. When I was a child, the concept of being a transgender person wasn't even something that was being discussed in a public fashion. Because of this - as I've said in the past - I simply had no choice but to define myself in a world where my very existence defied apparent definition - because that definition wasn't discussed. I had to come up with who I was and what I was about on a daily basis, to craft my own sort of identity.
It flies in the face of so much of what I talk about in terms of feminism and self-worth, of personal pride and the need for girls to have positive role models judged by their mental attributes more than their physical ones.
But, in truth, this contradiction is why I'm writing this piece. In addition to Daphne being one of the "Women of Mystery" characters I wanted to cover when I got that inspiration from my hospital bed, I realized that writing about her and how she helped me was going to be a troubling sort of essay, difficult for myself, challenging perhaps even for my readers - because Daphne Blake inspired me as a child for reasons that are so often condemned in circles of feminism, are so deeply criticized amongst academics. But the truth is there, and that's why I'm writing this, be it upsetting to the readers or not.
I feel it would be dishonest not to include her because she was a big part of keeping me sane as a very young child, a big part of my childhood. Certainly, I could cherry-pick these heroic characters and pick only the ones that worked for some kind of overall narrative, but I don't think that's fair, because I think the readers deserve to honestly know me - and I deserve to know myself, by writing about what's true in my past and in my present and in my future.
I could pretend that there was a feminist agenda to my love of Daphne, but it's not true. I don't think it's even appropriate to pretend there was any sort of feminist agenda involved in her inclusion in the show - far from it, actually.
Yes, the character was one of the principle members of "Mysteries, Inc." - the original "meddling kids" who hailed from Coolsville, USA and traveled across the country in a van unmasking ne'er-do-wells disguised as monsters. Yes, as a result of that, she often had an equal say in the decisions of the group. And yes, she did sometimes figure out the key clues that led to the solution of the mystery.
But, really, "Danger-Prone Daphne" was most often present in the story to be the proverbial damsel-in-distress, getting deep into trouble so that the other characters had an additional motivation to wrap up the mystery as quickly as possible.
But here's the thing - I didn't care, as a kid. I didn't see her that way.
She was an incredibly important character to me, despite lacking any kind of feminist underpinnings like so many of the other characters I've profiled.
You see, when Daphne was out there, trying to solve mysteries, and getting into danger ... I was pretending I was her.
.jpeg)
I was living out a decidedly non-feminist fantasy, yes - and I understand that now, but it doesn't make it any less true. I was pretending to be Daphne Blake in the same way many girls have fantasies about being Disney princesses.
And when I pretended to be Daphne, it soothed me. It calmed me. It helped me forget, for a little while, that the world didn't see me the way I really was in my head. I didn't have to be "a girl in the body of a boy." Her presence helped me, in half-hour intervals, to think about nothing else than being seen as someone like Daphne. And with my often-blistered sene of self that got fried on a routine basis by day-to-day living, that was definitely enough.
She was beautiful, and glamorous. She was desired by hunky collegiate lad Fred Jones. She was also a seeker of truth and justice, which as anyone who's read these pieces knows, was and still is of incredible importance to me. And she fought people pretending to be scary monsters and ghosts, which was awesome.
In short, I adapted Daphne Blake's character into the character I needed her to be - someone who could help me accept myself by virtue of being who she was, without feminist interpretation, without reclaiming, without anything but Daphne Blake's presence as Daphne Blake.
Daphne also allowed me to play "as a girl" in my imagination. I never, ever played dress-up with women's clothes as a child - I was terrified of being caught doing so, and the consequences of being caught doing that seemed likely to me to be incredibly awful, life-changing and life-destroying. It filled me up with so much fear that it just never seemed like a viable option.
But with Daphne, I had a secret method to get away with "presenting" as Daphne - because all my few male friends loved the various incarnations of Scooby-Doo's adventures, and we would often play pretend - and, because of my red hair, I got to be Daphne. It was as simple as that. I didn't need to explain it. I didn't need to argue it. I didn't need to get into gender politics. Daphne had red hair, so I could be her and it was OK. It passed the scrutiny of my male childhood peers. Nothing weird about a redhead playing a redhead. My stealthy secret was assured.
So it's as simple as that, despite the trouble I had writing this. I loved Daphne and wanted to be her as a kid - because she was pretty, because she was cool, because boys liked her.
I suppose I could have just written that at the beginning, but part of writing this was for me to do some major self-analysis - and some more general analysis.
It's a shame, I realize, that girls can't just like what they like in our modern American culture, and that little girls get put-downs from supposedly-mature figures in the media simply for liking things that are pretty and cool.
It's an unfortunate characteristic of the necessity to fight the fight of feminism that so many simple pleasures become battlegrounds for kids. Little girls want to dress up like Disney princesses, but sometimes get told by parents trying to do the right thing that they can't - because of the negative stereotypes of Disney women. Little girls want to play in sports, but get told by school boards trying to do the right thing that they can't - because someone might get hurt. So, what's changed, really?
Everyone is just telling girls they can't handle this or that, each side convinced they're right - but it all still comes down to telling girls what's best for them.
So often, it comes down to people telling girls they can't handle anything: can't make decisions for themselves, can't be capable, can't interpret messages, can't be too feminine, can't be too masculine, can't do this and can't do that. We tell them what to do, how to be, what to wear, when to wear it, how they should feel about the world, how they should feel about themselves. But what these messages all share in common is this: "Girls, you have to be protected by people who know what's best for you."
And it saddens me to see this happen, because the girls I knew growing up - including myself - were a self-reliant bunch. Yes, the media messages have changed, and girls face greater dangers now than they did in the 1970s from a society that increasingly preys upon them. But this doesn't mean we're properly approaching the issue of protecting girls when we act as though they'll go to pieces if we don't make every decision in life for them. Likewise, I think that kids often have a tendency to live up to our expectations of them.
Really, I guess that right there is my basic point in all this: if we tell our girls that they've got to be protected from everything because they can't handle anything themselves, will they simply believe us and act accordingly? In our desire to liberate girls, do we sometimes "protect" them too much from growth and from learning experiences? Is it really dangerous for a girl to dress as a Disney princess and play sports at the same time? Can we help girls to grow up without telling them there are certain aspects to being a girl that simply "aren't for them?" Because, as girls grow up, they become women - and women need to know how to protect themselves and make decisions for themselves, need to know how to be independent, need society to recognize their capacity for complete, adult self-determination - independence - strength. You know, the traits we all say we're trying to teach girls.
Even Daphne Blake had to learn that sort of thing as a part of her growth as a character, once she grew up a little bit.
Was it a "bad influence" for me to have a hero like Daphne Blake? I'll leave that up for academics to decide. I don't think she was bad for me. I think my love for her as a child led in turn to parts of who I am today, just as has been the case with so many heroes here. Likewise, as I grew up, I saw in her some of the problems that have plagued the image of women in popular culture in America. I educated myself on these issues and I tried to pursue positive change. I'm still trying. That's what this blog is about, too: reaching out to people. One of my greatest hopes with this blog is that someone who knows nothing of what it's like to be a transyouth reads my words and understands better than they did. Yeah, I've said that before, too. It likewise bears repeating on its own.
I also like to think that Daphne taught me to be inquisitive and not to fear the phantoms that are really just people. It's a lesson a lot of politicos still need to learn to this day. Instead of being afraid of the "other side" of our political discourse, we ought to take off the mask and see that there's just a human there. We can expose their shady deals, but we need to recognize we're not dealing with some kind of creature with supernatural powers to hypnotise half the population. This goes for any political viewpoint. Sure, we need to make sure that bad people don't get away with their sneaky crimes, but we do that by showing the world their humanity, and our own as well - not by responding with cries of anguish and fear.
Of course, sometimes you just have to kick some ass, too.
Today, Daphne Blake is no longer the clumsy, careless, accident-prone girl she was when the show started. She's grown and changed to closer match an appreciative audience of strong and capable girls. She's highly-trained in martial arts, as the clips I've listed show. She's a top-level SCUBA-diver. She's an investigative journalist who debunks supposed hauntings.
But she was also, at one time, a sixteen-year-old girl who messed up and made mistakes. And so was I, at one time. Our worlds - my real world and her fictional one - keep changing, and will continue to keep changing. We can't fight that. What we can do is try to give kids - all kids, regardless of gender identity or gender conformation - the tools necessary to grow and change into the people they want to be, no matter what that leads to for each individual person, whether that means someone who's more like "Danger-Prone Daphne" or Sarah Michelle Gellar's portrayal of the later years of the character.
This created an uproar, and resulted in Sarah's blog post being read by millions of people who chimed in on whether it was right or wrong for Sarah to allow her son to dress as Daphne for Hallloween.
Ultimately, though, those millions of people and all their opinions will matter less, in my opinion, than the fact that the world didn't end when a boy dressed up as Daphne Blake. And the world didn't end when people chimed in for or against it. And the world didn't end when the blog post was read by millions. And the world didn't end when opinions flashed across blogs all over the internet. And the world didn't end when people moved on to the next thing they wanted to be outraged or angry about, moved on to the next thing they could champion or condemn, criticize or adore.
The world kept on spinning, and Boo kept on being Boo, and Sarah kept on being Sarah, and I kept on being me, and Daphne kept on being Daphne. The Earth suffered no existential crisis. Planets didn't collide. And the real question is this: don't we all want to raise the next generation of kids brought into the world to be brave and courageous and capable? Of course, we do.
And part of that is sometimes letting a boy dress up as Daphne, letting a girl play sports, and letting those who might be somewhere along a different sort of line use the public restroom that's right for them.
Now, I'm not so naive as to suggest that having heroes will stop suicides, of course. I just think it's a very important piece of the puzzle.
I also think it's an absolute travesty that young girls of all kinds have so few heroes in their entertainment. Even with the massive saturation of media that typifies American children's upbringing, the images of women that are presented aren't often positive as far as strong role models are concerned.
For the unfamiliar, the image above is a clip from an infamous Audi advertisement that ran during the 2013 Superbowl in which a man drives to a prom and then forcibly grabs and kisses a woman without any indication of any kind of consent whatsoever on her part. The ad's copy? "Bravery. It's what defines us."
A brief aside: do let Audi know what you think with this link to their contact information.
Keep up the public pressure. It might not change things in the advertising industry, but it might mean someone else might think twice before promoting sexual assault as a sign of personal courage. Maybe.
Kids aren't ignorant of these issues of sexism, either.
They see it.
They may not be able to articulate it, but the message does get through to them.
In my case, I remember that from time to time I would get this intense feeling of discomfort over not having role models anywhere, not having people who behaved the way I behaved, people who I could identify as seeing themselves the way I saw myself. My own childhood experiences taught me that I had to make a choice: adapt or wither, be resilient or succumb.
But here's something I think most every parent knows: kids who are faced with those kinds of challenges often prove that they are, in fact, more adaptive and resilient than anyone gives them credit for being. A parent gets to see a kid look right square in the eye of a sometimes-hostile world and defy all expectations by taking on challenges that might break someone who "knows better" than to fight against it.
Likewise, transkids almost have to be like this, if they want to survive childhood. Transkids often have to make do with even less of the world, by definition, because adults put so much of the world out of their reach, often by design. Transkids have no choice but to adapt, because there are so many people out there telling them constantly the limits of what they can be, but also often telling them that their very existence is a mistake - or, worse, a lie; these are the kind of people who won't even acknowledge the a child's need to have an appropriate restroom in a public place; or, people who want to use that need as a means to condemn these children, their parents and those who support them.
What I try to remember, to keep me sane, is that there's progress - no matter how slow it might be. When I was a child, the concept of being a transgender person wasn't even something that was being discussed in a public fashion. Because of this - as I've said in the past - I simply had no choice but to define myself in a world where my very existence defied apparent definition - because that definition wasn't discussed. I had to come up with who I was and what I was about on a daily basis, to craft my own sort of identity.
A big part of that - as I've also said in the past - was learning to adapt, to make do with what I had and to be cautious about who I let into that world. In many cases, that meant taking concepts and ideas from the world and using them in ways they might never have been intended to be used, finding within them some spark of an idea that made me feel better about myself, made me feel more comfortable in the world, helped me forge my own individual identity.
Believe it or not, this is where Daphne Blake comes into the picture.
Okay - so let's get the obvious element out of the way: Daphne's a redhead, and so am I. That's where the similarities pretty much end, and even my childhood brain understood that. I certainly understand that in my adult life. But that didn't stop my imagination; it didn't stop me from pretending otherwise, and pretend I did.
And it was just that - pure pretending; it was literal childhood wish-fulfillment, a balm to the personal pain of a lonely transgirl.
In this form, my blog, I find in the immediacy of writing this that it's difficult to write those words. I find in this strange sort of vulnerable moment that it seems to fly in the face of so much of what I think of myself as being about in my adult life.
It flies in the face of so much of what I talk about in terms of feminism and self-worth, of personal pride and the need for girls to have positive role models judged by their mental attributes more than their physical ones.
But, in truth, this contradiction is why I'm writing this piece. In addition to Daphne being one of the "Women of Mystery" characters I wanted to cover when I got that inspiration from my hospital bed, I realized that writing about her and how she helped me was going to be a troubling sort of essay, difficult for myself, challenging perhaps even for my readers - because Daphne Blake inspired me as a child for reasons that are so often condemned in circles of feminism, are so deeply criticized amongst academics. But the truth is there, and that's why I'm writing this, be it upsetting to the readers or not.
I feel it would be dishonest not to include her because she was a big part of keeping me sane as a very young child, a big part of my childhood. Certainly, I could cherry-pick these heroic characters and pick only the ones that worked for some kind of overall narrative, but I don't think that's fair, because I think the readers deserve to honestly know me - and I deserve to know myself, by writing about what's true in my past and in my present and in my future.
I could pretend that there was a feminist agenda to my love of Daphne, but it's not true. I don't think it's even appropriate to pretend there was any sort of feminist agenda involved in her inclusion in the show - far from it, actually.
Yes, the character was one of the principle members of "Mysteries, Inc." - the original "meddling kids" who hailed from Coolsville, USA and traveled across the country in a van unmasking ne'er-do-wells disguised as monsters. Yes, as a result of that, she often had an equal say in the decisions of the group. And yes, she did sometimes figure out the key clues that led to the solution of the mystery.
But, really, "Danger-Prone Daphne" was most often present in the story to be the proverbial damsel-in-distress, getting deep into trouble so that the other characters had an additional motivation to wrap up the mystery as quickly as possible.
But here's the thing - I didn't care, as a kid. I didn't see her that way.
She was an incredibly important character to me, despite lacking any kind of feminist underpinnings like so many of the other characters I've profiled.
You see, when Daphne was out there, trying to solve mysteries, and getting into danger ... I was pretending I was her.
.jpeg)
I was living out a decidedly non-feminist fantasy, yes - and I understand that now, but it doesn't make it any less true. I was pretending to be Daphne Blake in the same way many girls have fantasies about being Disney princesses.
And when I pretended to be Daphne, it soothed me. It calmed me. It helped me forget, for a little while, that the world didn't see me the way I really was in my head. I didn't have to be "a girl in the body of a boy." Her presence helped me, in half-hour intervals, to think about nothing else than being seen as someone like Daphne. And with my often-blistered sene of self that got fried on a routine basis by day-to-day living, that was definitely enough.
She was beautiful, and glamorous. She was desired by hunky collegiate lad Fred Jones. She was also a seeker of truth and justice, which as anyone who's read these pieces knows, was and still is of incredible importance to me. And she fought people pretending to be scary monsters and ghosts, which was awesome.
In short, I adapted Daphne Blake's character into the character I needed her to be - someone who could help me accept myself by virtue of being who she was, without feminist interpretation, without reclaiming, without anything but Daphne Blake's presence as Daphne Blake.
Daphne also allowed me to play "as a girl" in my imagination. I never, ever played dress-up with women's clothes as a child - I was terrified of being caught doing so, and the consequences of being caught doing that seemed likely to me to be incredibly awful, life-changing and life-destroying. It filled me up with so much fear that it just never seemed like a viable option.
But with Daphne, I had a secret method to get away with "presenting" as Daphne - because all my few male friends loved the various incarnations of Scooby-Doo's adventures, and we would often play pretend - and, because of my red hair, I got to be Daphne. It was as simple as that. I didn't need to explain it. I didn't need to argue it. I didn't need to get into gender politics. Daphne had red hair, so I could be her and it was OK. It passed the scrutiny of my male childhood peers. Nothing weird about a redhead playing a redhead. My stealthy secret was assured.
I suppose I could have just written that at the beginning, but part of writing this was for me to do some major self-analysis - and some more general analysis.
It's a shame, I realize, that girls can't just like what they like in our modern American culture, and that little girls get put-downs from supposedly-mature figures in the media simply for liking things that are pretty and cool.
It's an unfortunate characteristic of the necessity to fight the fight of feminism that so many simple pleasures become battlegrounds for kids. Little girls want to dress up like Disney princesses, but sometimes get told by parents trying to do the right thing that they can't - because of the negative stereotypes of Disney women. Little girls want to play in sports, but get told by school boards trying to do the right thing that they can't - because someone might get hurt. So, what's changed, really?
Everyone is just telling girls they can't handle this or that, each side convinced they're right - but it all still comes down to telling girls what's best for them.
So often, it comes down to people telling girls they can't handle anything: can't make decisions for themselves, can't be capable, can't interpret messages, can't be too feminine, can't be too masculine, can't do this and can't do that. We tell them what to do, how to be, what to wear, when to wear it, how they should feel about the world, how they should feel about themselves. But what these messages all share in common is this: "Girls, you have to be protected by people who know what's best for you."
And it saddens me to see this happen, because the girls I knew growing up - including myself - were a self-reliant bunch. Yes, the media messages have changed, and girls face greater dangers now than they did in the 1970s from a society that increasingly preys upon them. But this doesn't mean we're properly approaching the issue of protecting girls when we act as though they'll go to pieces if we don't make every decision in life for them. Likewise, I think that kids often have a tendency to live up to our expectations of them.
Really, I guess that right there is my basic point in all this: if we tell our girls that they've got to be protected from everything because they can't handle anything themselves, will they simply believe us and act accordingly? In our desire to liberate girls, do we sometimes "protect" them too much from growth and from learning experiences? Is it really dangerous for a girl to dress as a Disney princess and play sports at the same time? Can we help girls to grow up without telling them there are certain aspects to being a girl that simply "aren't for them?" Because, as girls grow up, they become women - and women need to know how to protect themselves and make decisions for themselves, need to know how to be independent, need society to recognize their capacity for complete, adult self-determination - independence - strength. You know, the traits we all say we're trying to teach girls.
Even Daphne Blake had to learn that sort of thing as a part of her growth as a character, once she grew up a little bit.
Was it a "bad influence" for me to have a hero like Daphne Blake? I'll leave that up for academics to decide. I don't think she was bad for me. I think my love for her as a child led in turn to parts of who I am today, just as has been the case with so many heroes here. Likewise, as I grew up, I saw in her some of the problems that have plagued the image of women in popular culture in America. I educated myself on these issues and I tried to pursue positive change. I'm still trying. That's what this blog is about, too: reaching out to people. One of my greatest hopes with this blog is that someone who knows nothing of what it's like to be a transyouth reads my words and understands better than they did. Yeah, I've said that before, too. It likewise bears repeating on its own.
I also like to think that Daphne taught me to be inquisitive and not to fear the phantoms that are really just people. It's a lesson a lot of politicos still need to learn to this day. Instead of being afraid of the "other side" of our political discourse, we ought to take off the mask and see that there's just a human there. We can expose their shady deals, but we need to recognize we're not dealing with some kind of creature with supernatural powers to hypnotise half the population. This goes for any political viewpoint. Sure, we need to make sure that bad people don't get away with their sneaky crimes, but we do that by showing the world their humanity, and our own as well - not by responding with cries of anguish and fear.
Of course, sometimes you just have to kick some ass, too.
Today, Daphne Blake is no longer the clumsy, careless, accident-prone girl she was when the show started. She's grown and changed to closer match an appreciative audience of strong and capable girls. She's highly-trained in martial arts, as the clips I've listed show. She's a top-level SCUBA-diver. She's an investigative journalist who debunks supposed hauntings.
But she was also, at one time, a sixteen-year-old girl who messed up and made mistakes. And so was I, at one time. Our worlds - my real world and her fictional one - keep changing, and will continue to keep changing. We can't fight that. What we can do is try to give kids - all kids, regardless of gender identity or gender conformation - the tools necessary to grow and change into the people they want to be, no matter what that leads to for each individual person, whether that means someone who's more like "Danger-Prone Daphne" or Sarah Michelle Gellar's portrayal of the later years of the character.
I'm closing this piece with a picture I think illustrates this incredibly well, and incredibly simply - a photograph of the son (Boo) of a woman named Sarah Manley.
Sarah runs a blog called Nerdy Apple, which I encourage you to read. A while ago, Sarah wrote a blog post about how her son wanted to dress up as Daphne Blake for Halloween.
This created an uproar, and resulted in Sarah's blog post being read by millions of people who chimed in on whether it was right or wrong for Sarah to allow her son to dress as Daphne for Hallloween.
Ultimately, though, those millions of people and all their opinions will matter less, in my opinion, than the fact that the world didn't end when a boy dressed up as Daphne Blake. And the world didn't end when people chimed in for or against it. And the world didn't end when the blog post was read by millions. And the world didn't end when opinions flashed across blogs all over the internet. And the world didn't end when people moved on to the next thing they wanted to be outraged or angry about, moved on to the next thing they could champion or condemn, criticize or adore.
The world kept on spinning, and Boo kept on being Boo, and Sarah kept on being Sarah, and I kept on being me, and Daphne kept on being Daphne. The Earth suffered no existential crisis. Planets didn't collide. And the real question is this: don't we all want to raise the next generation of kids brought into the world to be brave and courageous and capable? Of course, we do.
And part of that is sometimes letting a boy dress up as Daphne, letting a girl play sports, and letting those who might be somewhere along a different sort of line use the public restroom that's right for them.
No comments:
Post a Comment