My first appearance at a gay club in drag was the collective result of my determination and my new house mother's ban from our destination. Showing up to the family house to get ready was a bombardment of scrutiny and interrogation. Nothing I brought with me would suffice a 'first appearance' and so a test was concocted. I was to go in place of the, then banned, house mother and see how I fair. At the time of inception my size difference and unfamiliarity in the art marked me as two things a booger and a bitch. 
   As the newest member of New Hampshire's House of Javon I would begin my journey into the most looked down upon hobby the gay would had to offer. Knowing that the end of my first year performing cigarettes were officially banned inside establishments, one could deduce that popular media hadn't even begun to monetize our craft.
  Becoming a drag queen was to pigeonhole your social circles and have a hobby you hid from most to maintain relationships and employment. Naturally, already being a misfit and annoying to their peers, this didn't seem like all that awful a choice.
  Performing in those days were a first come first serve and though I would be among the first to ask I would usually be handed music the host wanted in the show but did not have the time to learn. So... I'd do just that; 24-48 hours before the event I would use my memorization techniques and perform what was given. 
  Moving around New England, contending with my parent's forced collegiate continuation of education, would inevitably ostracize me from the cast of local queens.
  Moving to Salem, MA to attend Salem State College would spark my solidification of defiance and determination. While attending SSC I received the information studying theatre performance that 'drag' was not theatre. Again making a mockery of a hobby still viewed by most as a joke thus fueling the counter culture, tell me I can't and I'll show you I can mentality. From this I would accidentally host a monthly drag show, appear in a novel and even write and direct a show, L'illusion des Femmes. Though through another move names would be forgotten and events just a distant memory of local past. On the edge of my 10th anniversary as a drag queen I left for the west coast and Hashtag Molly would be actualized. 
  Art is a constant journey of knowledge and the knowledge there is more to learn. Accessible photography is one such lessons I learned late in my career. Previously a 'no phones or flash photography' had been the show modus operandi. Working mostly with 'closeted queens' or performers who feared family/work persecution from publicity. Now photography accessible by phones and no shame in what I love I began to explore capturing my image. It was this skill that greatly aided my presentation modification to beauty, like a mirror aids the lip-syncer. Working in the San Francisco show 'Meow Mix,' I was regularly informed of my skill and presentation through video uploads of my performances. Between video and photographic 'mirrors' spilling the tea and me dishing my well earned desserts the perfectionist inside grew and learned... learned quick.
  Continuing my journey north, becoming a founding member of the Lumberjacks rugby team and reaching for that 'happily ever after' the outside world seemed to catch up with this drag queen. A drag sister, makeup guru and friend would open the flood gates once again refining the booger into a hideous beauty and eloquent monster. The drag trophy wife.
  I have heard it said that to love oneself you must in tern love all that makes you, you. I think learning to love all that has made me who I am now taught me to embrace and love the journey as well as the destination. It is with this  understanding that the booger became the beauty.
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Today begins the journey of  my first website.