ᝰ.
every film leaves a piece of itself in me.

I cried so hard because Martha’s confusion, her denial, her anger, her self-hate.. it’s all too familiar. So many queer people carry that same weight. That same pain. The way she looked at herself with disgust, like her own skin betrayed her, that doesn't come out of nowhere. It’s the world that teaches us to hate ourselves before we even understand who we are.
And this film. This raw, unflinching film was made in the 1960s. That alone makes it powerful. Brave. It saw us long before the world dared to.