What’s your earliest memory of money?

It was when I was 7 years old, in primary three. My mum, who was a teacher at my school, preferred packing home-cooked meals for my siblings’ and my lunches. So, there was nothing like pocket money. 

If I wanted money for snacks like Gala or Sprite, my mum would tell me to “make my own money” or something like that. So, I had a stupidly brief moment in primary school when I tried to do just that.

What did you do?

I tried writing comics and making greeting cards to sell to my classmates. The keyword is “tried” because I never made any money from it. The cards didn’t even take off.

I made only one sale: a ₦50 comic I sold to my best friend. The very next day, she returned it and asked for her money back because her mum told her to. I gave her the money and pretty much gave up on monetising any skills for a long time. I figured money was for adults.

Speaking of adults, what was the financial situation at home?

My dad worked at an advertising agency, and my mum was a teacher. For a long time, we were fine. We had food, a car, and early access to technology; those boxy desktop computers. My parents prioritised our exposure to the world even when money was tight.

The cracks started showing when I got to secondary school. My dad resigned in 2018; he was forced out of his job during a management change. I was in SS 1, and my parents tried to hide the situation, but I started getting sent out of class because we owed school fees.

By 2020, the shift in our finances became obvious when we moved from Lagos to Ogun State — we didn’t even move with furniture. We couldn’t afford Wi-Fi, and when the fridge broke, it was never fixed. It’s still used as a storage cupboard today.

How did this shift impact how you thought about money?

I was pretty much still in that “money is for adults” phase. To be clear, I liked the idea of having money to do whatever I wanted. In fact, a few years after the failed attempts at writing comics, I tried to sign up for one of those websites that pay people to take online surveys. However, there were age restrictions, and I didn’t have a government ID, so I couldn’t earn anything.

So, yes, I wanted money. But I wasn’t particularly attracted to the idea of working for it. My mum recently reminded me that, as a child, I used to say adults were suffering because they had to work every day. That mindset, coupled with my initial failures to make money from offering a service, sort of affected my desire to work for money.

Fast forward to January 2022, and I was admitted to uni, only for an eight-month ASUU strike to begin almost immediately. During the strike, I was at home watching movies, learning French and practising classical guitar. No desire to work or look for money.

However, my attitude to money changed when I got to the 200 level. 

How so?

My sister and I were in uni together (she came in a year after I did), and our parents gave us an allowance as needed. We would track our expenses, make a list of our needs and send it to our parents. They would review and send what they could. 

For instance, if we needed ₦50k, they could send ₦30k, or the whole ₦50k if they had it. I was really trying to save, so when I could, I’d set aside some of my share of the allowance. 

My second year in uni was also the first time I made actual money. I signed up for the school’s work-study program and worked as a records assistant at the distance-learning institute, organising messy files 10 hours a week. The job was mindless but fun because I could listen to music. I earned about ₦47k that semester.

Around the same time, I landed a remote summer research internship with a university in the US through my department’s association. That internship was my first “big” pay; a one-time stipend of $160 (about ₦260k). 

I even remember how I spent it: 10% to tithe, 50% to my savings and emergency fund, and the remaining for my sister’s and partner’s birthdays, and other little expenses.

You’ve mentioned savings a few times. Was it for anything in particular?

Oh yes, an emergency fund. I finally accepted that I was queer when I got into uni. I’d known since I was 15, but I struggled with self-acceptance. However, in uni, I met people who were just like me. It helped me finally be at peace with it and acknowledge that I wasn’t a flawed person.

Foolishly, I came out to my parents towards the end of my 100 level, and their response was, “It’s against God and the Bible,” and all the usual stuff. In summary, they didn’t accept me. 

The thing is, I know my dad — he can be really volatile when he’s angry. He once told me to leave the compound just because I didn’t want to hug him. His temper flares don’t happen frequently, but I’m constantly on edge. I don’t want a situation where they’ll disown me or kick me out, and then I’m stranded. So, I started saving as a backup in case anything went wrong.

Thankfully, in late 2024, after the internship ended, I found another income opportunity.

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Tell me about it

I applied and got into a three-day writing workshop with a queer organisation in Nigeria. We were paid a transport stipend, but most importantly, I learned I could pitch stories to magazines. 

The workshop organisers partnered with a digital publication and offered a select few the opportunity to submit their writing. I submitted a personal essay and was picked. I can’t remember exactly how much they paid me (it was in dollars), but it was about ₦200k. By this time, it was 2025, and I was in 300 level.

My next income came from tutoring. A family friend ran a French tutoring business and asked me to tutor some of her students. My pay was ₦3k/hour, and the classes were held online. I only did it for about eight months. Her students were in different time zones, and they weren’t serious. They would show up late without a heads-up. 

For context, the classes were late in the evenings, between 10 p.m. and midnight. I’d wait for hours, and then as I’m about to sleep, I’d get texts at 1 a.m. like, “They’re available now. Can you teach?”

Wild

My income from the French tutorials ranged from ₦20k to ₦30k per month, depending on how many classes I taught. 

Three months into the French tutorials, I got another gig tutoring a child in the US in mathematics for $15/hour. The class was held for an hour every week, so I made $60/month for the five months the gig lasted. So, there was a period when I was juggling both tutoring gigs. At my peak, I was making between ₦105k and ₦120k a month. 

However, I was only living on the income from the French classes. I didn’t touch the $60 (about ₦90k) at all because I was still very much preparing for the possibility of being disowned by my parents.

Both gigs ended around September 2025, and I’ve been unemployed since.

How have you been surviving?

On my savings. At the time I lost the gigs, I had saved about ₦1m. I would still have close to that figure if not for some back-to-back expenses. I had to pay for a school trip and a national conference, and those two events burned through my savings. 

Right now, I’m down to about ₦500k. I’m stressed out about touching it more because I’ll be finishing school in four months. Going home won’t be a death sentence, but I know it’ll be limiting. My parents found out I did the workshop with the queer organisation, and they were not happy about it. 

Whenever I go home now, I get tons of questions about every move I make. They even stopped me from going for a shoot. So, even if they don’t disown me, they’re already really controlling. Not having any savings would take away my option of moving away if necessary.

Is there a benchmark figure you think would make moving possible?

Not exactly a figure, but if I can earn between ₦600k – ₦2m/month, I should be able to find someplace decent. I don’t even need it to be comfortable. It can be a face-me-I-slap-you house.

I also want to get my savings back up. If I have ₦5m in the bank and am earning ₦1m/month, I’d be good. I’m pitching and applying to a lot of jobs, hoping something clicks soon.

Rooting for you. I’m curious. You’re living on your savings. Do you no longer receive pocket money from home?

I do, but it’s very minimal. The financial situation at home is still really bad. I had to move into a hostel this year because my school cracked down on squatting. My parents went into debt to pay for the hostel, so I can’t bring myself to ask them for money for food or data. 

Since February, I’ve only received about ₦27,500 from home. There’s no specific amount to expect. My mum just sends ₦5k whenever she can. So, I’m practically living on my savings and trying to spend as little as possible.

What does this look like on a monthly basis?

I try to keep my monthly spending between ₦50k and ₦60k. That ₦30k for feeding includes lots of garri and spaghetti.

As you can probably already tell. I’m stringent with money. I don’t spend anyhow. I imagine I don’t have any savings, so I often forget it, which helps me not spend. 

Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?

OMG, there are so many. I need a new laptop battery and a new phone — actually, what I need is cloud storage. I can still manage this one. I also need money for food. I literally cannot afford food. 

I’m in my final year and have project expenses. Printing costs ₦50-₦100 per page, and my questionnaire is 4 pages long. I need to distribute 250 copies. I only printed 20 and stopped there. I’ve even cancelled out the prospect of participating in FYB events. It’s someone who can afford to eat and do their project, who can even think of celebrating graduation.

Sigh. I get it. How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?

0. I earn nothing right now. I am burning through savings. I’m applying for jobs and getting silence or rejections. It’s stressful because graduating in a few months feels like a deadline. There’s nothing to be happy about. I just need someone to hire me. I need an income badly. 

Find all the past Naira Life stories here.

For people like us who live in a country where it’s not so safe to be queer out loud and we get prosecuted for it due to the SAME SEX MARRIAGE (PROHIBITION) ACT (SSMPA) bill, it doesn’t take away the need to live as boldly as you can in public. Hence the need to flag. Queer flagging here means wearing, owing using terms, clothing, etc as a way of hinting to other another queer people that you too are queer. 

I spoke to these four queer Nigerians, and here’s what they had to say about flagging and why it’s important to them. 

Milan,  she/her

Queer flagging, to me, is showing other community members you’re one of them. The subtle hints allow other queer people to recognise you outside. It’s important for me to queer flag because I’m a femme woman meaning that I’m not someone people stereotypically ascribe queerness to. People see me and assume I’m for the man dem, but I’m for the girls and the gays. I want to be noticed by other queer women. I am tired of men moving to me, thinking I like them. I’m a lesbian. We live in a homophobic country, and you can’t just walk up to someone of your gender and tell them you like them like that. 

You have to watch out for signs, maybe looks or a particular attitude or behaviour. I like to be approached, talked to and taken seriously, so I flag because I don’t fit into the queer stereotype. To be honest, I don’t like queer flagging because it feels like a performance, but I understand its importance, even though I wish I didn’t have to. It feels like I’m performing sexuality and not staying true to myself, but it needs to be done.  

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JJ, he/him

Of course, there’s no one way to look queer, but when I was still a , no one could tell I was queer even when I went to queer parties. Now that I’m a typical example of what a queer masc person looks like, people now get me. 

I imagine it must be difficult for femme queer women. The problem is that even back then, I was a bit of a tomboy — and being tomboy doesn’t necessarily mean queer — but as soon as I cut my hair, everyone and their daddies started to call me “gay” outside. The upside to flagging is that your tribe will easily find you, but it will also attract homophobes. I will never stop, though. It’s the only way I can affirm my queerness in public when I feel the need to hide.  

Theo, she/they

Queer flagging for me is how I present myself when I’m outside in a bid not to look because I’m non-binary. I mostly never “look queer”. I envy people who can, though. I feel like I can just walk up to someone with aqueer aesthetic and talk to them, but I don’t “look it”, so they wouldn’t know how to react to me in that “I see you” way.

It sucks sometimes but it’s still important to me that queer people flag because it makes me feel like I’m not alone when I step out of my house. I live for that smile across the street when I see a queer person outside. It’s such a mood booster. You see someone living their best queer life and it makes you feel like you can do it too because this person is living so proudly. Like yass, that’s the agenda.

Ink, he/ they

Its important becausethose who know will recognise the way you flag. Queer flagging is important because it helps you find community. It’s not safe for people to just announce they’re queer in this hell of a country, but queer flagging will let you know who’s queer or, at the very least, who won’t mind being regarded as queer. When you understand how other people are flagging and they know you understand, it’s like an instant connection. You let down your guard around each other. I feel like I’m the only queer person around me sometimes, but going out and catching the eye of someone who’s also queer, sharing a smile or a nod? That thing can make  my day.

*Names have been changed to protect subjects’ identity, and answers slightly edited for clarity.

READ ALSO: 6 Queer Nigerian Women Talk About Experiencing Violence For Being Queer

Lu (they/them)

I think of pride month as independence day for LGBTQ+ people. They’re free to express themselves, marry, and live a life free from danger. But since it doesn’t apply to me here in Nigeria, I decided to look at it as me celebrating coming to terms with my sexual orientation and gender identity. I struggled with it, so pride month is my independence. 

I celebrated by watching LGBTQ+ series, mostly , because they’re more authentic. Most gave off “let’s just add LGBTQ+ characters so it won’t look like we’re bigots” and the characters barely have personalities outside their identity. 

I wish I’d gone to the parties and events people hosted and attended a pride parade or drag show. But I’m an introvert and still live with my mom.

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Temi  (he/they)

To me, Pride is a celebration. It’s happiness despite everything happening — holding onto your community, checking up on each other. Having a month means something about me, my identity and my community. It makes me so happy. 

I celebrated by publishing queer love letters throughout the month. Every one of those letters brought me immense joy. I had a pride picnic with queer people in my school, which was the highlight of my entire month. I also read queer books at home. 

I would have loved to attend the queer parties and events, but I can’t come out at night, as I live with my parents. I’m bitter about that and blame this useless government for not ending the strike so I could celebrate pride properly with my friends. If everything had gone to plan, I might have attended several pride parties this year, gotten a new partner, and enjoyed my life.

Muna (they/she) 

Pride month for me is just a time to hang out with my queer friends and family. It’s very wholesome, I feel seen, and I don’t have to pretend I’m heterosexual. I don’t get to be in spaces like this often, so it’s always amazing. I celebrated Pride Month by going to random queer spaces looking like my gayest self — places that make me happy, and I didn’t have to bond over trauma.

Clover (she/her) 

Pride Month celebrates how far we’ve come as a community. Even though I can’t openly celebrate because of the homophobia, I post about queer history and culture worldwide on my Whatsapp status. If I could, I’d march the streets wearing all kinds of rainbow merch. One day, one day. 

Fidel (he/him)

For me, pride month is the one time in my life when I find myself rid of fear. There’s something about seeing myself among queer people happy and celebrating that makes me feel like life is worth something.

I spent this month attending as many events as possible, sitting with my chosen family, watching movies and documentaries, and having dinner. I used to think I hated going out, but I don’t. I just needed to be in the presence of people to whom I didn’t have to explain myself.

I know we’re not where many countries are regarding the rights of LGBTQ+ people, but seeing people in other countries celebrate gives me hope that one day that could be us. 

ALSO READ: 9 Ways to Support Your Queer Friend During Pride Month

1. The “Keep It together” meme

That weird random moment when your family members are bad-mouthing queer people around you, and you’re fighting the urge to scream, “It’s me, I’m queer people!”

RELATED: 6 Queer Nigerians Give Advice to Newer Queer People

2. The “Don’t think about it too much” meme

Nobody should even tell you twice. Embrace it. You’re the main character now. 

3. The “Is this gay enough?”

No, because do they expect people to walk around draped in the pride flag?

4. The “Homophobic and still can’t speak English” meme

Use this meme when homophobes ask people with neo pronouns how they can use “they/they” for one person or when they say LgTv people as a joke. 

5.  The “try to mind your business” meme

When that family member that has problems comes to ask you foolish questions, refine this meme to fit their situation. You’re welcome. 

6. The “If you guys knew, why didn’t you tell me?”

Lowkey, this meme is for when you come out to your friends, and they say, “oh, we know” or “You’re just knowing” reread the title. 

RELATED: When a Queer Friend Comes Out to You, Here’s How to Be Respectful

7. The “Celebrate little wins.”

We might not be winning at many things, but for those of us who refuse to or can’t pay rent, being able to have your partner in your parent’s house is a blessing. 

8. The “ Na beg I dey beg you”

You love all your queer friends, but some can never come to your house because your parents will immediately clock them.

RELATED: Every Queer Friend Group Has One of These

9. The “wtf is a gay stereotype” meme

Sometimes you want to laugh at funny queer memes, but it’s so far removed from your reality. For instance, if you liked folding the arm of your t-shirt as a Nigerian child, the t-shirt probably wasn’t your size. But outside, it’s a lesbian thing. 

10. The “For here?” meme

When pride month begins, and the abroad queers start making jokes about how corporations change their logos, all you can do is laugh because honestly, for here?

READ ALSO: 8 Types of People You’ll Meet at a Queer Event

She will cheat and you will beg her to stay

If you don’t want someone to break your heart anyhow, maybe next time, come to the world with a big bum bum so you won’t be looking for it outside. These babes don’t even lie after they cheat on you. They’ll somehow make it your fault, and you’ll still be begging them not to break up. After God, fear femme queer women. 

RELATED: You Can’t Miss These 7 Queer Women on Dating Apps

They will “astrology” their way into your life

If you think you’re special because she sends you weekly affirmations for your star sign, my dear, you’re not. If she comes into your life and her first question is, “What time were you born?” she wants to check your birth chart to find creative ways to ruin you. You can either run or enjoy the ride.

She’ll never stop talking to her ex

In fact, you’ll soon realise that half of her exes are yours too. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with having a healthy relationship with your ex. It shows that you’re not childish. That’s until y’all break up, and she dates that one ex of hers she told you nothing was going on with and all you can do is cry. 

Whatever game you think you’re playing, she’s already won

Just the thought of anyone thinking they can one up a femme queer woman has me screaming. They’ve chopped and served every sort of breakfast known to man so they’re always guiding. Best believe that they’ve anticipated your every move and checkmated you in their heads. 

You’re not half as important as her cat

Know this and make your peace with this. After you leave, her cat will still be there. Nevermind that they’re in an abusive, lowkey one-sided relationship, because, cats! Why would she pick you first? Don’t be that loser who tries to fight for her attention when she’s focused on her cat — which is every time. 

She’ll pull you, your friends and your mum

You’re a liar if you think you have more game than a femme queer woman. The amount of power they have is scary, but at least it’ll just have you in awe like she can have anyone, and she chose you? Mad! 

But it’s also a recipe for premium breakfast.

Forget everything you knew about sex

If you think you’re an expert in foki-foki, just wait until a femme woman sluts you out. You’ll sit at the edge of the bed after thinking of your life while you consider calling your exes to apologise for all the bad sex you guys used to have. 

ALSO READ: Masc Women Make These 9 Things Look 10 Times Hotter

Organise a picnic with your friends

Write the names of all seven colours of the rainbow on individual stripes of paper. Make everyone pick a colour randomly and then have them bring food items in that exact colour and dress up in the same colour. If your friend group isn’t up to seven, invite more people — the more, the merrier. 

RELATED: Every Queer Friend Group Has One of These

Invite your friends to a party where they have to dress as their favourite musician

You don’t even have to spend much money. Ask everyone to come with something to share with others. Set up karaoke and have them sing along to the musician they’re dressed as. Nothing says pride like a bunch of queer people singing Odunsi (The Engine’s) “wicked, sexy!” at the top of their lungs

Go to a poetry night

For queer people that enjoy reading and listening to poetry, you can attend any poetry night event or even host one yourself. Be ready to cry, laugh and have an all-around good experience listening to people’s stories and struggles.

Invite friends to binge-watch queer movies

You don’t need Pride to watch queer movies, of course, but Pride Month just makes binge-watching with your chosen family feel extra special. You have thirty whole days to go through as many full-length films, short films and animated films as possible. Be ready for the loud laughter, the God-when’s, and the tears. 

Attend online pride events 

For people that can’t physically attend any event, you can live vicariously through an online Pride celebration. Just talking and being in the presence of people that understand you makes all the difference.

Do something nice for someone

You can donate to a safe house or any GoFundMe of your choice. Buy queer books for younger queer kids, and write letters to your friends or those your social media mutuals. Think of Pride as queer Christmas. 

Buy Pride merch from queer-owned companies 

It may cost a little more to patronise small queer businesses but think of it as giving back to the cause. Buy as many accessories or flags as you can afford for friends and try to have a good time. 

READ ALSO: 9 Ways To Support Your Queer Friend During Pride Month

“Are you a boy or a girl?”

None of the above; that’s kind of the whole point. Non-binary people can present themselves in whatever way they want. This question can be harmful and annoying.

RELATED: 3 Nigerian Trans Men On Coming Into Their Gender Identity

“How do they/ them pronouns work for one person?” 

There’s a vast difference between asking this question respectfully and saying it as a statement. No one should have to explain their pronouns to you, and non-binary folks don’t just use they/them pronouns, you should respect their pronouns. 

“You don’t look non-binary”

There’s no one way to look non-binary. No hairstyle, aesthetic, or facial feature makes you look non-binary. No one has to look a certain way to identify as non-binary.

“What bathroom do you use?”

The clean one with spare tissue papers. Please don’t ask this question. First of all, we are in Nigeria, where there are hardly any gender-neutral bathrooms. We use the one that ensures that no one will throw a tire over our heads when we step out. 

RELATED: 10 Gender Neutral Pet Names For Your Partner

“Why do you shop in the men/women section?”

Because as soon as people attach “gender-neutral” to a clothing item, it costs an arm and a leg. Plus, clothes become gender-neutral when non-binary folks wear them and decide on that.

“Are you intersex?”

Not all intersex folks are non-binary, and it all boils down to the fact that you expect them to look a certain way. No one owes you an answer to this very invasive question. You can’t be an ally and be asking questions like these. 

“What’s going on down there?”

Not a lot, and none of your business. Non-binary folks don’t ask people what they have in their pants because that’s not something sane people do. Cisgender people should extend the same courtesy. 

“What was your dead name?”

Not all non-binary folks feel the need for a name change, and when they do change their name, it’s probably because the previous one didn’t feel right, cisgender folks change their names too. They do not owe you an answer to these questions, and to be honest, especially not when the dead name triggers their dysphoria. 

READ ALSO: Sex Life: I Started Having Great Sex After Settling Into My Identity

1. Ask how you can support them

Thank them for trusting you with that information, reassure them and then ask how you can support them. Some of your queer friends may need you to remind others to use the right pronouns or need your help to set up a date with their partner. 

RELATED: Coming Out to My Mum Didn’t Go How I Expected

2. Be trustworthy

Don’t make something that was told to you in confidence become a subject of petty gossip. You can’t just tell people they haven’t already come out to that they are queer. It’s not your place to spread such info.

3. Don’t make it about you

They weren’t intentionally holding back information about themselves from you, and a coming-out conversation is not the time to bring that up. Their willingness to share this with you means they trust and want you in their life. Don’t start asking weird, awkward questions they aren’t ready to answer. 

RELATED: 6 Queer Nigerians on What They Are Tired of Hearing From Straight People

4. Reassure your friend

Let them know nothing is going to change and assure them you still love and care for them. Unless and nothing would change that except they steal your food or something, then you’ll deck them. 

5. Ease the tension

It takes a lot of courage to come out to anyone. Your friend is bound to be anxious or worried. The best thing you can do is to ease their mind. Make a joke that isn’t offensive or ask if you can hug them.

6. Learn more about the community

Don’t turn your friend into a human queer dictionary. Read up on your own about proper terms used in the community and open your mind. Only ask them when it’s not clear to you. It shows that you support and respect them enough to learn about the community. That’s how to be a good . 

ALSO READ: The Lesbian Dating Experience: Expectations vs. Reality

1. The 34-year-old Christian stud that wants kids

Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with wanting kids. But these people will text you like they’re recruiting you for pyramid schemes when you mention that you’re not a Christian. I’m not saying this is a red flag, but the flag is not green. 

RELATED: Masc Women Make These 9 Things Look 10 Times Hotter

2. The spiritual astrology babe 

She is always direct, and of course, your first conversation is going to lean into your star sign and how it affects your life. If she ghosts you after reading your birth chart, you’re probably a or a Scorpio and it was giving her bad vibes. 

3. The 19-year-old baby gay that falls in love fast

With every match, she feels like she’s met the love of her life. If you delete the app and come back in a year, she’ll still be as excited to talk to you again. To be honest, she’s a sweetheart and deserves nice things, but she’ll probably just keep meeting people that are looking for something casual. 

4. The femme woman you think is straight

She’s the complete opposite of what people think a queer woman should look like. She likes pink, wears short dresses and is probably a Nothing on her account screams queer, but she probably has dated more women than you have. 

RELATED: Every Queer Friend Group Has One of These

5. The one that dated your ex 

You either swiped right by mistake or out of curiosity, but now you’ve realised that she’s pretty chill and you can almost see why your ex left you for her because you would do the same. You’ll never get to date her sha, but you might hang out a couple of times. 

6. Your single friends

Half of the people you swipe right on as a queer person on a dating app are probably your friends. You both swiped right on each other just for the bants, and never speak again after the first text because you’re not there to date them.

7. The one with no bio that is looking for friends 

You’re not even sure if this person is a real person or a catfish when you swipe left because why are you on a dating app, looking for friends? They don’t even give you anything to work with. Just their name and a picture with a Snapchat filter. What are you supposed to do with that? 

READ ALSO: 10 Types Of Guys You’ll Find On Dating Apps

1. Rolled up t-shirt sleeve

I don’t know if all masc queer women go to a school where they teach them how to roll up their sleeves, but they’re the only ones that make it work and make it hot. If they have a tattoo showing right underneath that sleeve, just propose. 

RELATED: Nigerian Men, Here’s What Your Shirt Says About You

2. Wearing a suit 

The cut of the suit doesn’t even matter. When a masc queer woman wears a suit, the next thing to do is to beg her to ruin you. Because when next will you be in the presence of ultimate gorgeousness again? 

3. Locs

A masc queer woman with locs is a woman that will break your heart and you’ll still tell her thank you for the experience. We should all sign a petition to stop them sha, because why are you collecting hearts like infinity stones? Also, the shorter the locs, the hotter she is. 

4. When they pick up a cup from the top, instead of the side

They will never pick up a cup from the side or hold the handle, and to be honest, I’m not even complaining. We should all hold cups the way these gorgeous women do. 

5. Manicured nails with rings

If you’re going to flaunt the goods of your trade, it makes sense to keep it clean. If you have well-manicured nails and you wear those chunky rings, text me. For research purposes, of course.

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6. Carrying everything in their hands 

What do they need a bag for when they can just carry their entire lives in their hands or pockets? How they never lose any of their property is an unsolvable mystery, but watching them effortlessly carry their keys, wallet, AirPod case, phone and water bottle in the same hand is the gift that keeps giving.  

7. The gold chain 

Truly the ninth wonder of the world. There’re very few things hotter than a masc queer woman wearing a simple gold chain without a pendant. The only time a pendant works is if it’s a cross. 

8. The man spread 

Is it irritating when men do it? Yes, because don’t they already take up enough space in this world?. But on masc queer women, it’s the hottest thing. Yass girl. I support women taking up space! Even if it’s my own legroom. Who died from being uncomfortable before? 

9. Leaving several buttons undone 

Some people do this and look like wannabe drug dealers from Oshodi, but masc queer women have hacked this look. Especially when they style it so you can see their sports bra. That’s the end. Just let me in peace.  

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