We grow up hearing that gender is “just how things are.” Many people still assume masculinity and femininity follow naturally from biology. That assumption holds only when gender is observed at the surface level. When we look closer—across history, across cultures, across experiences—the neat divide begins to blur. What appears to be an innate truth reveals itself as a social script written and re‑written to fit particular times and power structures. Contemporary research distinguishes sex (biological traits) from gender (social and structural expectations) and emphasizes that their influence on human behaviour and health must be investigated empirically rather than assumed[1]. Recognizing gender as constructed does not trivialize it; it makes its construction visible and therefore contestable.
I don’t understand, and I don’t think I’m meant to. There is a specific kind of exhaustion that comes with trying to make sense of a world designed to keep its gears turning at the expense of your own sanity. We are conditioned to accept the grinding noise of systemic failure as background hum, taught to look past the chains on our own perception so we can keep playing our parts in the simulation. I’ve reached a point where I can no longer ignore the friction between the humanity I know exists and the cold, mechanical reality we are forced to inhabit.
In the house where I grew up, “diversity” wasn’t a celebrated buzzword or some noble ideal to be embraced; it was treated like a dirty word, something suspect, something inconvenient, something that threatened the illusion of order my family so desperately wanted to preserve. It was a threat to a very specific, very rigid status quo, one that demanded a performance I could not, and would not, give. On a daily basis, I was interrogated about why I couldn’t just be “normal,” a question that carries its own kind of quiet violence because it is never really a question at all. It is an accusation dressed up as concern. It is a demand that you shrink yourself until you become manageable. I was shamed and derided every single time I reached for any semblance of authenticity, every time I let some honest part of myself surface in a room that had no interest in honesty unless it was convenient. It’s a strange thing to realize that your own family views your intrinsic self—the way your brain actually processes the world, the way you move through it, the way you survive it—as a personal affront to their comfort. In that environment, my neurodivergence was never understood as a different way of being. It was treated like a defect of character, a moral failure, a deliberate refusal to comply with a system that was never built to accommodate me in the first place.
Welcome to Blind Spots in Focus: a series dedicated to prioritizing voices that are consistently overlooked in mainstream spaces by drawing critical attention to the perspectives that shape our world, challenging the status quo, and broadening our collective understanding. In this series, I will bring to light the vital perspectives that have historically been pushed to the background.
In a sea of 'performative allyship,' her voice acted as a lighthouse—the kind of sudden, glaring clarity that hits with the force of a dead stop at the end of a fall. And so, it is my privilege and with great pleasure to introduce to you, Bri Speaks. 
There are a million things we tell ourselves when our emotions start to surface, especially when the timing is inconvenient. It’s easy to swallow it down like a too-big pill and to keep swallowing the phantom lump in our throats, because we busy ourselves with obligations. We prioritize our lives in such a way that puts our needs on the back burner, low heat and apply just enough attention that we don’t have to worry about it burning the kitchen down (metaphorically and literally, in some cases). It becomes second nature to remember we even have needs, never mind how to meet them; we’re doing everything we can just to survive another day in a world that wasn’t built for us.
Body Count • Existential Dread • Retribution Reels • Time Capsule
I grew up in rural America, where many of the people I have met would consider the middle of nowhere, and yet, for reasons that none of us could really explain, I still felt the need to lock the door. Car door, front door, back door, garage door…windows. We had never experienced a break-in, and I could never articulate it, other than that the middle of nowhere is the perfect place to commit a crime. In retrospect, my proclivity to lock doors very well may have been heavily influenced by my personal interest in horror and true crime. Granted, more than once I was accused of trying to hide something for locking my car in the driveway, but overall, I think my family just added it to my long list of “quirks,” a blatant dismissal of a survival instinct that didn't align with the perceived safety and comfortability afforded to rural White America. In the middle of nowhere, the absence of accountability is often mistaken for peace, and we are conditioned to believe that our environment is an inherent shield against the types of crimes that “only happen in the city.” My gravitation toward toxic outcasts, on the other hand, was undoubtedly shaped by characters like David (Mark Wahlberg) in the movie Fear (1996).
There is a buzz developing around the systemic sexism that echoes the patriarchal delusion of male superiority. It is ironic how the same people posted at the top of the social hierarchy are the ones lost in the rose-coloured fog of dissonance. They see the inequity…backwards, of course, clinging to unearned authority over what’s “right.” Tensions build from every angle, and blame is cast on misandry as the antagonist. This mordant perspective, by hard-heartedly dismissing the lived experience of everyone else, fuels the very manifestation of antipathy towards cis men that it claims to oppose. It minimizes the fundamentally trauma-informed byproduct growing from the epicenter of the impossible demands of patriarchal social construction. Still, lack of accountability and the denial of science lead society down a darkening path of destruction—and the centuries-old self-deception peals, loud and oppressive. Society’s inescapable patriarchal structures inflict profound damage and enable severe, intersectional oppression against women and gender-nonconforming individuals—realities often dismissed by a misguided focus on misandry, underscoring an urgent need for accountability and genuine societal transformation.
People talk about the patriarchy like it signals male superiority, when in reality none of them can achieve, let alone define how it actually impacts their daily lives. They don’t name it, of course, but it bleeds into every conversation, every law, every social shift.
According to my explorations on the topic, sexual victimization has been around since the dawn of time. Today, “sexual victimization is highly prevalent in the United States, with 63% of women and 24% of men reporting experiences of sexual victimization in their lifetime” (Miller, 2017). Research published in the Journal of the American Heart Association finds that sexual violence is not only common but that survivors of sexual assault and workplace sexual harassment are at an increased risk of hypertension (States News, 2022). This research was supported by several other institutions. In today’s world, it is also important to understand that victimization is not solely a physical act. Image-based sexual abuse has also been documented, its “prevalence varies, owing to differences in definitions, criteria, and samples used” (Pedersen et al., 2023).
* This is a unique social experiment: writing to individuals behind bars. This journey isn't about judgment or condemnation; it's about forging exploring dark complexities of the human experience. Each individual will have their own feed under the "Pen Pals" category.
There will be real-time updates on this project as it unfolds (which may take time), and I welcome your suggestions and feedback along the way.
Ed Kemper was denied parole, again, on July 9th, 2024, with the prosecution declaring him to still be a danger to society. This comes as no surprise to those familiar with this notorious serial killer, as the heinousness of his crimes is overshadowed only by his lack of both remorse and empathy. Today, Kemper resides in a medical prison where he was moved after several trips to an outside hospital due to complications with his severe diabetes. Other than that, unverified sources say he is otherwise relatively healthy and can still walk though he frequently uses a wheelchair to get around. Another source said that Kemper recently met with a journalist numerous times, in person and over the phone, insinuating that there should be a new book or documentary coming in the near future. Disappointingly, no title or release date was given; but he has been featured in several newer works. As well, since being incarcerated Kemper has recorded thousands of hours of audiobook narration and assisted the FBI in the development of their Behavioural Science Unit, though most recently he’s said to have accosted a female staffer while transferring into his wheelchair. This of course only worked against him at his parole hearing earlier this month, where he was denied (for the twelfth time). His is not my most familiar case, but not for lack of intrigue. I’ve watched some interviews and read a few articles, but I’ve not yet dove into the depths of his mind...
I held your daughter as she wept for you today. Not beside your deathbed or next to your grave, she didn’t cling to your picture but she is in mourning. She mourns the words of wisdom her heart aches to hear but she’s never heard you say, the loss of a blissful ignorance and hope. Her heart breaks every time you show her that you were never made to be the mother she so desperately needs, that you don’t have the grit and resolve to become that mother. I held her as she wept and I affirmed all her wildest dreams, except one; I won’t lie to her and allow her to hope that you will ever be half the woman she is already. A child, barely sixteen, and she is more self-aware and emotionally developed than you; her own mother. I have heard you utter the one word you are not capable of grasping the gravity of, and she believed you. She wants to believe you still; a part of her will always want to believe, that you’ve changed, that you understand, that you love her. With time and resilience, she will accept the truth and she will persevere despite you; or to spite you, either way, she will win. The truth is that without you, she really can’t lose. Sure, you’ve done your best, and it wasn’t easy for either; especially not “raising” such a high-spirited daughter, who just won’t submit. But then, that’s the real issue though, isn’t it?
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Sheena MonsterThey/Them/Theirs 
Naming the things that society works hardest to ignore, to reclaim the humanity stripped by systemic deception.
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