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No, there weren't any signs that I was trans as a kid. I mean, sure, there were some things that were a little odd, like how when I was eight years old I imagined that the Pokemon series would inevitably release games called Pokemon Boy and Pokemon Girl, and I assumed that because video games were a boy thing (remember, I was eight), it would be easier and cheaper to buy Pokemon Girl, and so I'd be forced to play a pink and sparkly game with a cute girl avatar, and all the boys would say that I was really a girl because I played that game, and they'd think that they were teasing me, but I'd actually be happy because...um...well, you see...

But, like I said, no signs. I'm sure every boy my age cheered themselves up by imagining this exact scenario in extreme detail.

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Hello please reblog this if you’re okay with people sending you random asks to get to know you better

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Look, defending trans rights should be a priority on its own. But also, it is EXTREMELY clear that attacks on trans people are propping up a whole host of other bigotries. The Department of Veteran's Affairs is using Trump's attack on trans rights to deny care based on political party and marriage status. And don't think this won't spread. If you live in the United States and are anything other than a male, white, cishet, wealthy, married, neurotypical, able-bodied, hardline conservative, evangelical Christian then rest assured: attacks on trans rights have been the first step in attacks on your rights from the start. And fighting for trans rights will be fighting for your own, along with being obviously the right thing to do.

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Instead of using the o' contraction, try using the full word, as in:

- It is four of the clock!

- I lit Jack of the Lantern!

- In the 2016 Democratic primaries, I was all for Martin of Malley!

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I have two tags blocked on Tumblr: Deltarune and Harry Potter. And I need you to believe me when I say that they are for entirely different reasons.

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Tight top and maxi skirt, either tiered or patterned.

i'm curious, what's everyone's Default Outfit? like what would you be always drawn wearing in a cartoon? mine is concert tee + mid length skirt

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I know nothing about Fire Emblem: Three Houses, but I imagine it’s something like the Western Schism for Dr. Gregory House.

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I think it's a common assumption that trans people are self-assured and confident. I certainly thought this before I admitted I was trans. Outsiders (and insiders who don't know it yet) see us transforming our bodies and going out in public knowing we're at risk and insisting on the right name and pronouns and they assume that it's some innate courage and boldness that carries through our whole identities. I can only speak for myself, but I can say for certain that, over the course of my life, my transness made me less confident, not more. Growing up, I learned to hide my true self, to become a passive vessel for the person others wanted to see, to hate and fear what was authentic to me. Yes, I took a great risk, but not out of ambition or some well of confidence. Only because I finally recognized that the alternative was a greater risk: a blank and empty existence until my death. I want to be proud and bold, but my transition doesn't show that I'm there yet. It is the first, uncertain step in what I hope will be a long journey.

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This makes me feel a deep melancholy and longing. It's good advice if you can take it, and I don't mean to pollute Ghibli idealism with my own gripes, but I can't live like Ursula. I have to work a job I hate, and when I get home at the end of the day, I have to work to avoid the gnawing knowledge that I'll do it all again the next day. I try to let the world in on the weekends, but that's not enough time to recover, much less figure out how to start on my creative work again. I'm quitting soon, and God willing I'll be able to create in my time off my next job.

魔女の宅急便 / Kiki’s Delivery Service 1989, dir. Hayao Miyazaki

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Look, I LOVE Charlie XCX's Brat. I am adoring the fanart I'm seeing of The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn't a Guy at All! and plan to start reading the manga later today. I'm a lesbian and green is my favorite color. But I think we need to have a conversation about whether we want this particular shade to be synonymous with sapphic love because, at this rate, they're gonna make our flag into a solid block of sickly yellow-green by 2026.

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My past two posts have been all about confidently telling outrageous lies, and I worry that if I go back to talking about my experience transitioning or something like that, people will be like, "Yeah right, just like how God told you to swallow a mouse."

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The reason why God was so involved in human affairs a long time ago but then noped out after Jesus is because God is going through the same motions for every animal species: making a covenant, giving commandments, and sending down his own child to die in the form of that species. I know this because I felt an odd urge to swallow a mouse yesterday and, when I questioned it, I received a vision from God saying that He was on mice right now, and the mouse I was about to swallow was the mouse-equivalent of Jonah. Tomorrow I'm supposed to spit him out in a den of sinful mice so that he can squeak to word of God at them. I wish that little guy the best.

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Ms. Frizzle turned me trans. She had a stint teaching at my school in third grade and turned the whole class into fish to teach us about the ecosystem or something. Our class had ten boys and eight girls, and we turned into one of the species of fish that swap sexes to reach equilibrium, so yeah. I got turned back into my old AMAB self once the class was over, but I didn't feel right with myself after that. Years later when I was questioning things, I emailed her to see if she could explain anything, and she told me that she'd trans'd me on purpose, and was planning to do a whole class on gender dysphoria tomorrow (they were going to shrink down and go inside my body and mess with my pituitary gland to make it so I went through female puberty), but she got fired after the fish class for mentioning evolution.

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At my consultation for bottom surgery, I found out that this particular surgeon operates using five tiny robots inserted inside the body. While this is fascinating and all, I kind of wish that there was a sixth robot, since if I had six nanomachines working inside me to correct a grave evil, my vaginoplasty would basically be a reenactment of Bionicle.

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Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer shoulda been adapted as a 90s point and click adventure game instead of the Natalie Portman movie.

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It's so odd to me that men call each other "gay" or "woman" as insults. I get that I'm biased, but my life as a straight man was miserable, and being a lesbian kicks ass.

I dunno, maybe they're just jealous.

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Today marks one year on hormone replacement therapy, and I worry I won't see another anniversary. This time last year I knew that I was a woman, but I was functionally living as a man. I couldn't stand the sight of myself and, on the rare occasions that I went out as a woman, I wore a long-banged wig and a covid mask, which together covered 90% of my face. I had a workable female voice, but was still so worried of being clocked that I used it publically as rarely as possible. Now it's been months since I presented as a man. I can go out with no makeup and still get read as a woman. Old pictures look like an entirely different person. Every part of my body, from hair to skin to blood, has changed, and every change feels like how I was always supposed to be. 

And now it feels like all of this joyous transformation might just be a long weekend in the scope of my life. I could lose my job, lose my legal status as a woman, lose my access to estrogen. And, sometimes, it feels like I might be able to accept it. I survived twenty five years without transitioning, didn't I? Life wasn't so bad back then. Just numb and lonely and exhausting from the effort of denying that I had a body or a self or a desire for something more.

No. I'm not going back. Maybe the administration will fall down out the gate, or maybe living in a blue state will be enough, but even if not, now that I know what life can be like, nobody is about to take it away from me. I won't go back into the closet.