unlucky-coconut

[unlucky-coconut]

Nevermind bitch!!!! Being trans is great everyone else can suck on my nuts!!!!!!!

I just can't wait until my transness stops being such a big part of my life. I want days where I forget I'm trans.

[unlucky-coconut]

Authors writing trans men in horror write any other horror beat than them getting pregnant challenge

Level: impossible

[unlucky-coconut]

Good news, my second job fired me explicitly for being trans (thanks, Trump) and I’m leaving my day job with my shitty coworkers soon to work somewhere I won’t need to hide my queerness because I’m sick of being stuck in the closet amidst all of this *gestures at political hellscape*

I’ll be taking a pay cut but I can’t live like that anymore. I feel like I can’t let the way I live my life stay at odds with my values for a second longer. I had a mini crisis recently because I realized how much of myself I’ve been losing trying to seem acceptable to them.

My coworkers are all conservative middle-aged men. It's such a bizarre experience, sitting there being the type of person they cry about in their transphobic rants, and they don't even realize it. Being stealth is such a trip. Where's my camera to look into "The Office"-style?

Jokes aside, what a terrifying and exhausting way to exist. I've never had to watch my mouth like this. If I slip up I'll instantly be othered from them all. I always thought of being stealth as the height of Transition™️, and that transitioning and passing would be hands-down euphoric. And it is euphoric, but a lot of the time it's in a twisted way I wasn't expecting, seeing all the "locker-room talk". And the terrifying part is that I got what I wanted but it could be taken away so fast if I say the wrong thing.

[unlucky-coconut]

I always used to think people were exaggerating about love and attraction and all that. I identified as aroace all through my teens and into my 20s thinking that surely this thing I wasn’t experiencing couldn’t be all that anyway.

I didn’t realize until after I got mostly done with my medical transition that I was actually very gay all along but just so dysphoric that I couldn’t bear the idea of myself being in a relationship. There’s an Arthur Rockwell video on youtube where he says something to the effect of “you need to be okay with someone being attracted to your body” in warning to trans people who are worried they’re too early on in their transition to date. I wish I had found that video in my teens because I think I would’ve felt a lot better about my confused attractions and repulsions.

Anyway. Some queer joy: after a series of failed dates and awkward hookups learning the do’s and dont’s of dating in my mid 20s, I have a boyfriend! He means the world to me and sees me as the man I’ve always wanted to be—and have been realizing I finally am. I love my body now and he loves my body too and I love his body and I love that he loves my body. But more than that he’s the perfect gentleman, and I want to thank the trans man he dated before me who did the work of teaching him how to be a good partner to a trans person because not having to explain myself has been relieving in a way I didn’t know I needed. I wanna marry him someday and get a cute house together with a clover lawn and our cats can be step-brothers. I have the ooey-gooey sickeningy sweet and affectionate kind of love that I always rolled my eyes at as a teen and I’m wondering what I even did to find a guy who I adore this much and makes me feel this good. Now I know why people write full sonnets and poetry and songs and plays about love because my normal sentences don’t do it any justice.

[unlucky-coconut]

I got top surgery a little over a month ago and today the doc cleared me to return to normal activities and ditch the post-op binder.

I’m over the moon. I keep flashing myself in the mirror then running off giggling, I’m wearing a skin-tight tank top like a total prick and keep gazing at my reflection and giggling too. For so long I was so focused on the pain of having breasts and needing to get rid of them that I didn’t really take time to be excited for the after. It didn’t hit me just how happy I was about my top surgery until now, no binder no bandages needed, just 100% my body. This is the best decision I’ve ever made.

Happy trans day of visibility!

[unlucky-coconut]

I thought transitioning meant I wouldn’t have to think about being trans anymore.

Turns out transitioning and passing won’t save you from transphobia that’s encoded into law. Matter of fact now I physically can’t deny it and my body is a living record of my transition.

Not that I regret transitioning, not at all. But fuck man a guy can’t catch a break

[unlucky-coconut]

I got top surgery the other day! I still want bottom surgery at some point, probably years into the future, when I’m healed and in a position I can take a lot of time off.

But knowing that, it still feels like top surgery is the thing that really solidifies my manhood. Maybe I’ll think differently in a couple weeks, months, years. But for now it feels like it’s the main legitimizing part of my transition. Every other part of my transition’s felt like something that could be disregarded or ignored or overlooked somehow. But no one can take this away from me!

[unlucky-coconut]

NO MORE TITS!!!

[unlucky-coconut]

Top surgery in T-minus 2 minutes

[unlucky-coconut]

As a trans kid I always heard people say “it gets better” and it sort of categorized the “better” part as being fixed in its place on the horizon. Like the moon. No matter how long you run towards it, it never gets any closer. It just sit out of reach, mocking you. But that’s not how the future works, I’m an adult now and I’m completely independent from my parents. I can do whatever I want. But ever since I cut them off and got a job and an apartment I’ve felt like a zoo animal released into the wild, creeping back into my cage because the great big world is too much for me to handle after so long in captivity.

But now’s not the time for that. I can get to the moon. My doctors have built me a rocket-ship and handed me the controls and a map. And I can live in the wild like I was meant to. It doesn’t have to be a myth for me anymore. I just have to let myself have it.

I’m getting top surgery next week.

[unlucky-coconut]

I’ve been so jumpy about my top surgery being somehow ripped from my hands.

I was sure my leave of absence for work would be denied and I would be fired for not showing up to my shifts. I was certain I wouldn’t be able to find a ride to the hospital when my first ride canceled. I thought the doctor doing my pre-op physical would decide I wasn’t fit for surgery for some reason. Now I’m scared my pre-op appointment with the surgeon is going to end in my surgery being canceled for god knows why.

But my leave was approved by HR and my foreman confirmed that with me, I have a new ride to the hospital plus two back up rides just in case, the doctor doing my pre-op physical already submitted her approval and told me I was a solid candidate for surgery, and at my consultation my surgeon told me she thinks I will have great results. I’ve never had any health complications or any real reason to think my surgery will be canceled.

But I’m so scared there’s going to be a catch, I’m so used to being told no (and apparently learned to tell myself no) when it comes to having ownership over my body that I almost can’t bare to have hope I might actually really be getting top surgery next week. I’m waiting for the rug pull, it all feels too good to be true.

Here’s to five more days of anxiety

[unlucky-coconut]

I’M GETTING TOP SURGERY NEXT WEEK!!!!

[unlucky-coconut]

As a stealth trans man working in a very conservative, blue collar field (my workplace would Not pass the bechdel test on account of there being zero women working here) I get to hear and experience some really off the collar toxic masculinity, usually from men in their mid 30s, and bite my gay little tongue so I don’t make a fruity wisecrack and Expose myself bc a hoe gotta pay rent.

Today’s favorite interaction was when a coworker asked me, “Do you want some… [thoughtful pause] hersheys?” then ponied up a ziplock baggie bulging with hersheys kisses.

[unlucky-coconut]

spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling spiraling

WHEEEE!

[unlucky-coconut]

My first video game I owned was Pokémon Black. I got it when I was really young, and I remember when naming yourself or your Pokémon there were a few symbols you could include in the name.

♀ and ♂ were two of them, and at the time as far as I knew they were completely meaningless wingdings. So when I was naming my player character, I wanted to include a cool symbol.

Unlike apparently the entirety of the trans gamer community, I never chose the boy character when playing video games. But I did end up naming my character “[Deadname]♂” so I guess no one is safe from the woke gamer agenda after all.

[unlucky-coconut]

Always thought about getting a trans tattoo. Permanently branding myself as a Pervert Crossdresser™️ might not be the smartest move in an increasingly right-wing country but the deeply repressed punk (I’m told I come across very straight-edge) in me is foaming at the mouth with the idea. But I realized today I kind of already have one, my first tattoo.

My first tattoo was of the solar system. I have very strong feelings about Pluto being a planet—I pity it like a lame horse, don’t kick the little guy while he’s down—so when I drew it up I made sure to include it. Before I gave it to the tattoo artist, I made sure to count the planets so I knew I didn’t mess something up. Yep, eight planets, perfect. Let’s put this on my body forever. It turns out though that when you add something it makes the total increase, and I didn’t realize until a few days later that I was missing a planet. Well, what planet did I end up omitting?

Venus... Y’know… ♀

Not too long after getting that tattoo my egg cracked. I guess I’m still not too bright because it’s taken half a decade for me to realize the irony of me leaving out Venus as a trans man.

[unlucky-coconut]

Found a picture from when I was 15 and used packing tape to bind my chest with notebook paper as nipple guards. I didn't know what binding was or that there were safe ways to do it.

Over and over again I nearly convince myself that maybe I'm faking and tricked even myself or that I didn't show any signs when I was younger. Somehow, despite being living as a man and being on hormones for years, a stupid little voice in my head is acting like a conspiracy theorist telling me to ignore all the evidence because trust me bro, you fabricated all of this, The Feeling (Dysphoria™️) can’t be more than a week old. And somehow he’s repeated the same “week old” theory for years refusing to see the irony.