My name is Victoria Sikora. I am the female ego of Timothy Elliot Lalowski, a gender-fluid person finding their way one step at a time. My greatest passion is working to create a better existence for humanity, however I can. (Check out my human-rights activist blog at ItGetsMoreGay.tumblr.com) I am currently attending the Illinois Institute of Technology, working on two degrees in Architectural Engineering and Civil Engineering and hope to one day begin my very own non-for-profit engineering firm working to create progressive design systems in third world countries so that their systems can grow and advance to a level of independence from foreign hand-outs. I am also very passionate about developing the world in a social setting as well. I am a large advocate for human rights and I fight for all peoples’ rights on a daily basis. That is where my passion for drag comes in.

I am passionate for drag for two rudimentary reasons. 1)Drag is an opportunity to express a part of myself that has been suppressed for a majority of my life. Victoria is as much a part of me as is Timothy. 2)Drag queens are voices for the LGBT community, and they are symbols of it to the rest of the world. Their influence is stronger than many of them even realize, and can be used for so much good, if properly utilized. What I stand for is Love. I stand for finding every bit of Love you can for each and every human being, regardless of who they are, where they’re from, the color of their skin, whatever may be between their legs, or whomever they choose to consent to in the bedroom. I live every day trying to demonstrate the tremendous human capacity for Love.

In order to achieve my goals, I need to gain visibility, and that means the super popular show, ‘Rupaul’s Drag Race’. I have been a big fan of many of the queens who have been on the show, such as Pandora Boxx and JuJu Bee, who’s hearts and compassion have blasted away much of the competition. It is my hope to be a part of this show and seize the opportunity to be an inspirational drag queen that youth can look up to, respect, and grow from.

There’s a lot of work to be done, considering how short of a time I have been performing drag (3 months!!!), but I need to pull together an audition tape and become polished enough to stand a chance in the competition. I need costumes and props, Make-up, film, time, etc. In order to really be able to put together an audition. (I am going to push myself to perfection and utilize every cent to its fullest) I do my own sewing, scripting, costuming, music mixing, photo and video editing, etc. and I’m really good at utilizing low budget items, but there is only so far a queen can push these things before the competition starts to swallow her up! I go to school full time, run my own philanthropic dance troupe, and work full time while I am trying to pull this together, so I’ve demonstrated determination to make it happen.

All donations will be used solely for drag materials and the lovely people who help make my video happen (All of YOU!!!), will be recognized in the credits as well as a few shout outs to the more generous donors. Please help me live my dream!!!

#VoteSikora!!! CHECK OUT MY PERKS!!!! THEY’RE GREEEEEAAAAATTT!!!

by: Timothy Lalowski 

Writer’s warning: Not for all types of innocence levels. This is a looking glass into the fucked up world we call my mind. I suggest to my relatives, and any others who wish to perceive me as perfect and innocent, that they refrain from reading.

I began masturbating at age 7. I didn’t know what sex was, and I sure as hell couldn’t ejaculate, but I was able to reach climax. From what I can remember, I don’t even believe I could get a full erection at that age, but when I touched it and moved it around a bit, it felt good. Later, I would call it “hand sex”, because masturbation wasn’t a term introduced to me by my conservative town until I hit high school.

Now, I didn’t come out to myself for another nine years, and even then I came out as bisexual, but I should have known from age 7 that I was really only interested in penis. There were just many too many signs from very early ages, yet I still remained ignorant to this ideal, mainly for the lack of knowledge on its existence.

At age 7, I figured that boys had pee pees and girls had some type of hole. That was pretty much the extent of my sexual organ knowledge. Somewhere along the line, I came to the conclusion that one fit inside the other. Luckily for me, I was correct, or else there may have been several very long and awkward conversations with my 5^th grade sex education teacher.

Before the concept of sex could be introduced to me on a factual basis, my mind had already created scenarios in my head where the one would go in the other, and this got me aroused. I somehow knew, because of my biological reaction to these thoughts, that I was at least partially correct.

However, I quickly came to realize what type of scenarios would arouse my little ‘bits’ the most. I soon began to involve more and more men and generally a singular, possessive and powerful female figure. This leather clad dominatrix slowly evolved from a large chested ponytail sporting girl similar to my hero, Laura Croft to a whip handling abusive male slave owner. She surrounded herself with a growing number of men, and the most identifying characteristic of these men was in fact, their own little ‘bits’, or should I say, gargantuan ‘bits’. She required men of great ‘talent’ in her slave mansion. Then there was the abusive nature of this character. No man’s penis was ever large enough for her liking, and in order to achieve her desires, she had several lines of action, many seemingly painful. Details on these lines of action are unnecessary and likely more crude than need be.

As I grew older, the world showed its cruel face, and I became aware of this to a large degree. Sexual deviations became a concept of sin, hatred, bullying, beatings, and deaths. Televised images of homosexual and transgender corpses, speak of ‘Gay-Related AIDs’, and general hateful speech made my feelings and thoughts cower within myself.

I should have known at age 7 that I was different. I should have realized my disphoric nature, but for me, many years went by before I would even acknowledge differences, and many many more would go by before I would accept these differences. Now, I look back and I have a stronger understanding of my youth depression and my constant nagging feeling of not belonging. I understand now how desperate my subconscious mind was to be able to express my true self, my true gender, and my true sexuality. I understand the hints of masochism that my youth expressed greatly, but I do no longer. Self-hatred can have a great effect on your mind and how you interact with the world around you.

Today I identify as queer because my identity is too complicated to explain and not worth defining. I shift genders. My sexuality is ill defined. What remains true is my past, and I can only hope to understand it in my future.

by: Timothy Lalowski

Nine months before I was born, my city-raised parents decided to move to a farm in Sycamore, IL in order to house the multiplying amount of children. And so my life began. I was an energetic child, a characteristic that will always be prominent in my persona. I loved to run around outdoors, jump in the mud, roll around in the grass, bang pots together in the kitchen.

Yes, I was rowdy. I also had some very unique characteristics that nobody else in my town had. My voice was about an octave above all the other boys, even exceeding the limits of the girls in my class many times over. I was very particular about my clothing and loved wearing button ups and khakis to elementary school. At one point, I went through a bell bottom phase. Quickly, it became apparent that I was better at getting along with the girls than the boys. All my friends went by names like Sarah and Cindy and Annie.

Sometimes, I don’t know why nobody took me aside and told me earlier. Sometimes, I don’t understand why it wasn’t so obvious. However, I guess in towns like that, they don’t see what’s staring them in the face: I am a flaming homosexual.

Coming from a religious family, I experienced a great deal of inner turmoil upon realizing that I was gay and spiraled downward into the abyss of eating disorders and self-mutilation. However, that story is not this story. Eventually, I came out. I came out to myself, my friends, my family; I came out to the world. Having been out for many years since, I have had much too much time to analyze my process and how it was successful. Here are my tips:

Claim You:

The first and most important step of coming out is to claim your identity. Figure out who you are and then love it. Embrace it. This is the longest process but the most beneficial. You can find replacement friends, acquaintances and even family if it comes to it, but you can never escape who you are so don’t try. “Baby, you were born this way.”

Take Time:

Make sure you are ready. This is a large package you’re carrying, especially in some of the small towns everyone reads about in the news, banning this and banning that. Don’t come out too early: there’s going to be a lot of stress involved. Come out when you’re comfortable, when the time is right, when you feel you have the support you need. Nobody knows you better than yourself so this is for you to decide.

Start Small:

Who is the one person in your life you can trust most? Or, who are you not going to give a fuck what they think? I tried both strategies and was fairly successful. However, losing that person you trust most can be quite damaging. I would have a practice run: some Chatroulette or whatnot. Also, you can just text a random number and be like: “I’m Gay!” or “I’m a big ol’ queer!” Get used to saying it. Feel comfortable with the words. Say it out loud, in front of the mirror when your parents are too far to hear you. Write it down one hundred times, over and over. Type it. Think it. Love it. That first live human being that you tell will be an experience like no other: right before, a thousand needles stuck into your left eyelid; after the words come out, a dove lifting your heart into the sky.

Find Support:

Backlash in small conservative communities is inevitable. Bullying is inevitable. But realize, those people are fucking idiots. Find an outreach program. Make a pen pal. Go online, research the queer community and learn about allies. Join Trevorspace, follow queer blogs, follow my blog, follow In Our Words. These people are amazing. They have so much love to give. Take that love. Accept it. Because, honestly, you’ll have it.

Be Safe:

Now, there’s a lot in the news about homo-bashing, murders, etc. Sadly, this is real life. Sometimes, there’s a lot of crazy in the world and people do terrible things. Do you feel safe where you are? If not, there are people you can talk to: authorities, local and national. Remember, your life is precious.

Taking Rejection:

Some will reject you. It may be your classmates. It may be your best friend. It may be your mother and father. Rejection is something we all fear from the day we are born. We want to be loved. Well, let me remind you: you are. You are loved by somebody, whether or not you see it. Whether or not you love them back. You are loved so much. Rejection will pass. People will come to realize, to see past. Your parents will begin to soften, to accept you back into their lives, even if they don’t agree; it’s what parents do. Your friends will grow up, mature, get cultured. The rejection won’t last very long.

Living Out:

My advice is to learn from the best: Drag Kings and Queens. These are some of the most empowering people I have met. They go out every day with a flaming torch of queerness, and they proudly wear that like a silver and diamond tiara. Be proud of who you are. I love you all, and I hope you find the support and hope that you need, and remember. We are here to love you for all that you are. Come talk to us, we have emails, and blogs, and mailing addresses and faces to talk to. We will be there.