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scige · 4 years

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「madelyn cline & cis female」⇾ beaumont, saige, the senior radcliffe student’s records show that she is a cancer and 22 years old. she is studying linguistics + criminal psychology, living in noland and can be blithe, energetic, evasive & irrational. when i see her i am reminded of the familiar riff of an old song, skinned knees with laughter following, and wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones. ⇽「james & 21 & est & they/them.」

N HERE IS MY LAST CHILD FR NOW ... both happy n sad ... god ... bites fist. alright. let’s go!

TW CHILD ABUSE, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, ADDICTION, DEATH, HIT & RUN CAR ACCIDENTS, GRIEF, GUILT

aesthetics.

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

basic info.

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a :/ give her some

b.o.d. - july 7th, cancer

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc.

height: 5′7″

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: bisexual w/ a very slight preference towards masc-presenting folks

stats

inspired by: serena van der woodsen (gossip girl), aimee gibbs (sex education), alexis rose (schitt’s creek), elle woods (legally blonde), rapunzel (tangled), clementine (eternal sunshine of a spotless mind), angela montenegro (bones), tinkerbell (peter pan), late 2000 / early 2010s kesha… i don’t know because she’s not actually inspired by anybody i made her when i was like 13 HDSJBKFNGHJLDS

biography.

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general (soon to be US general), and manon lévesque, world renowned fashion designer on levels par with gucci and versace. both cold, calculating, and purposeful.

no matter how much she wants to believe otherwise, saige is sure that she was not created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire. a proper socialite. a 1% citizen. molded to their will.

born in thibodaux, louisiana (surrounded by her father’s family - a long line of old money southern magnates & moguls with a history of beauty pageant winners in each woman) - it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning a cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years, until radcliffe. even then - conditioned to never become truly attached to a place, she has the urge to up and run away at any given moment, onto the next adventure.

she was kept on a short leash, home-schooled, and learning skills she had no interest in (from cooking to sewing to ballroom dancing - to fencing and firearm safety and self defense) - more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she was bound to what her parents allowed her to see. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends - there one day, gone the next. a ghost you could see, clear as day, but never touch - never fully, at least. even if she tried with all her might.

would run from bodyguards (their version of nannies - robert beaumont is a paranoid man with too many enemies to count) into festival crowds and climb out of windows in the middle of the night to swim in lakes with the locals she’d met only hours earlier - as soon as she realized that there was something wrong with the way she lived.

even if it resulted in punishment, military exercises in the form of her own personal boot camp (she’d been forced to do chin-ups, once, when she ripped an expensive gown at the tender age of seven. not since, however, after she wound up sobbing on the floor - instead they moved on. delicate teacups stacked across her back as she did push-ups, the more she did the more that slipped & broke)

she absorbed as she could, as much as she could get; an intense, undying love for a world she always craved to see.

this was the start of something dangerous - a phase that never seemed to end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. she landed herself in any crowd she could squeeze into - bad crowds, in particular and more often than not - they introduced her, the sheltered girl, into a world she hadn’t quite known existed until then.

ran away briefly at the age of fifteen with a man three years older than her & nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine because of it - if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though guilt from her parents’ disappointment weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse.

from there on, she’d been labeled as a ‘problem child’ - from public intoxication to vandalism, it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could possibly contain her.

boarding school had been an attempt to stop it, enrolled her freshmen year in hopes that she’d come out a proper woman. but being located in new york with easy access to the upper east side of manhattan - it’d been futile.

there’d only been a few significant events during her time there - the death of a classmate (one of her closest friends’ boyfriends) and a ski trip that nearly resulted in her own death, skiing while drunk on a closed off course, in memory of him and the traditions they’d had. the first time she fell in love, and months of pining - running in circles, fights and hiccups and confessions in the dramatic manner all high school relationships seem to be like. they’d finally gotten together - officially, no more sneaking around or pretending - when her parents paid a surprise visit. a rare occasion, nerve-wracking. dangerous. to keep a story short - she’d accidentally exposed her own drug use in their presence, the simple act of pills falling from a purse - and that’d been it. she was gone the next day, with no word to anybody and hardly a word since.

they told family she needed a change of pace, and rumors in her old school said that she’d been expelled, that she’d been sent to the french countryside to live with her grandmother.

she’d only gone to washington, that was all. france was too good, and she was too undeserving. instead she was enrolled in public school, only a quarter through her junior year. her parents rarely spoke to her - rarely in town, the only eyes kept on her were security cameras and the occasional check-in by family friends (the new word for bodyguards, apparently)

but as always - when left alone, saige scrambled to find somewhere she fit, somewhere to tuck herself away in the comfort of other people. a small group, but a loyal group - harmless minus a few miscellaneous charges that they said every small town kid had, at some point. they were safe, they were family - as close as she could get. at least, she had thought so. had really believed it.

she hadn’t intended to go to university after graduating high school, not yet eighteen - not for another month or two, at least. she wanted to travel, meet new people and learn new languages (she’d learned four, already, but had always been a glutton. craved to know more, as if she unlocked secrets with every phrase she could speak) and just. exist.

maybe she should’ve. should’ve left as quick as possible, and never turn back.

saige mysteriously disappeared from the public eye for an entire year, the entirety of her 18th year on earth, before promptly showing up at radcliffe university, ready to learn.

it’d been a year of legal cases & lawsuits & avoiding prison with expensive lawyers and a lot of money.

the getaway driver for an armed robbery at a bank, an unknowing accomplice until her supposed friend ran out from the building and jumped in her car, screaming for her to drive, drive, drive. it had only supposed to have been a quick stop before a road trip to the coast. nobody was supposed to get hurt. but scared, and high, saige had obeyed - and by doing so, led a police chase and, of course, a hit & run that eventually led to saige crashing the car midst breakdown.

the sole victim survived, thankfully - and the beaumonts have been paying the medical bills since. her friend - the one who started it all - was charged & sentenced. but saige got off relatively scot-free. just a year of community service, a slap on the wrist (and the growing wallets of all involved in handling her case). it would’ve made national news if her parents hadn’t stepped in - favors called, resulting in only local headlines.

they hadn’t spoken to her since then. three years of radio silence. she’d think they were dead if it hadn’t been the steady flow of money in her bank account. their silence only feels like a threat of what’s to come if she fucks up again.

ever since - she’s avoided causing too much trouble, still very much the party girl she’d like to be, but staying out of headlines and tabloids. partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, permanently, and partially in fear that she’ll end up costing someone else their life with her own selfishness.

UPDATE: she did not avoid trouble n got disowned after a high speed yacht chase it was. a lot. anyways she’s lying to everyone n pretending she’s still rich while rapidly losing money to lawsuit bills n hospital bills n just <3 a whole lot <3 has had to sell her favorite cars and her favorite bass guitar. sheds the smallest tear. spent the summer couch-hopping bt pretending she wasn’t couch-hopping and being :/ really messy. not a good fun look! sucks ... disappeared fr like a straight week n then popped up like hehe wat’s up :D. sighs sm.

personality.

she is so … bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s has so much energy in her. goes running every morning and every night and swims almost every afternoon and she’s never tired, even if she hasn’t slept the last night and even if she’s been dancing for five hours in a club in high heels and nothing but vodka in her system. the personification of a coke bottle shaken up, if the coke bottle in question could laugh and smile at you and make you feel, somehow, at home even though you’d only met her in the bathroom queue.

tries her hardest to be the happy fun friend, the cool friend, the one who can hook you up with whatever you need because she sleeps with her drug dealer and gets discounts, but like, it’s totally okay because they’re also friends.

generally comes off as very confident of herself, and fearless, and reckless but like - fun reckless. the kind of reckless you wouldn’t mind to be around because she takes your worries and acknowledges them and reassures you that it’s fine, that it’s grand, even when it may definitely not be.

takes a lot. so much. could ramble for days, hand gestures and all. never stops talking. never.

if she wants to do something, she’ll do it and there’s not very much you can do to stop her. stubborn, but at the same time easy going? very go go go. mischievous. even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kind of just like … have to let her do it, or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and then you’ll feel questionably guilty, which is admittedly a little manipulative on her end and isn’t the best thing, but i never said she’s the best person ever because she’s most certainly … not.

a vegetarian because meat makes her physically sick, like, she’s got a weird intolerance to it and it’s not quite an allergy because it’s really just red meats but she’ll get a tummy ache.

her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘yknows’, y’know? her statements always sound like questions.

99% sure she has adhd but she’s never been diagnosed because her parents simply would not allow her to go to therapy so if she does have any neurological disorders, mental illness, and the likes of those - she doesn’t know and doesn’t know where to even begin to find out. her parents? fucking suck.

like i said, she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. more of their decision than hers. she still loves them, a lot - and there’s a part of her that believes that they still love her, that they have to, because she’s not disowned yet. even though they haven’t said more than ten words to her since she was eighteen - as long as they keep sending her money, they still care - right?

owns four cars … bad idea considering her past, but alas. spending her money is a coping mechanism and she likes to drive because it’s a form of freedom. anyways. all her cars are on campus and she’s probably not allowed to have them all on campus but she does. one’s a sleek sports car, the other is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like … LED lights and shit, the third one is the same exact fucking mustang from the princess diaries because she’s obsessed with the movie & usually gets what she wants. the fourth is a mini cooper.

she’s a photographer (for funsies) and the walls of her room in noland are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants. her room in general is really cluttered. like, it’s super homey. super cozy. but it’s a mess. clothes everywhere, she’s got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies that she wanted to do and then either never did, or did for a few days and got bored of and haven’t touched since.

i mentioned earlier that she was taught a bunch of skills when growing up - and like, she doesn’t really utilize any of them? knitting, sewing, cookie, three different forms of ballroom dancing - all gone to waste and she’s pretty rusty on most of it, but it’s there. in her mind. it’s kind of neat and i promise she’s not a mary sue it’s just her upbringing HBSJKDFNLG she’s really nuanced i swear. anyways she can also work a gun and a car engine but hates half of the things she knows how to do because she was forced to learn these things.

she plays bass guitar. loves it, loves her guitar. treasured item. she knows violin & piano too but she fucking hates piano & is mostly indifferent towards violin. she can hold a note in other instruments but it’s like. not great.

got really into languages at a young age due to her constant traveling and started learning them unprompted. her mother is like. literally french. a french citizen. so she grew up learning english & french but from there on she’s gotten fluent in spanish (similar 2 french) and latin (dead languages are fun) and then she’s working on a few others like mandarin and german and scottish gaelic specifically but she mostly just knows a few phrases here and there. like, enough to get her through a city if needed.

like she’s super smart and very talented but she’s also ditzy as hell. big dumbass energy to the point where maybe you don’t realize that she’s actually really good at a lot of things because it’s not like she really flaunts it either?

she’s just very reckless, and very much a party girl. has quite the collection of drugs & uses socially, but also alone and throughout the day. rarely sober.

high functioning alcoholic and at this point she doesn’t really know what she’s like when she’s completely sober? which is really bad but she’s convinced that if she goes sober she’ll just be miserable and horrible because at her very core she believes she’s like. the worst human being alive. like very deep issues of self loathing covered by baileys in her morning coffee and 23 crystal lite packets in her yeti cup that happens to be filled with vodka.

this has been a budding problem that was developed since she was a young teenager. the ehem. situation that happened when she was eighteen only amplified it.

is essentially wearing a mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness because she doesn’t want people to think she’s not doing well, because she isn’t.

loves so much. loves everything, so much. everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either, for the most part. i hate to say it but she does flock to shitty people / general assholes because that’s just … how she is, that’s what she’s surrounded herself with her entire life. even her high school boyfriend was an asshole - just like, not to her, which made it Okay in her mind. she finds these kind of people like … super interesting which is really questionable but y’know what? we’re fine. it’s fine. i’m fine.

she sleeps around often, to be frank. she hates being alone and she rarely sleeps in her own dorm unless someone is in there sleeping with her. otherwise she’s at different houses. could be a friend’s bed, could be a stranger’s. has slept with the entire baseball team, probably. she’s also the type of person who’ll try and maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with because she hates the idea of having a regrettable encounter and just. refuses.

this is kind of a problem because she blurs the lines between friendship and Something More too often, and with too many people. wants to be loved but it’s never enough. probably ends up hurting people without realizing it because they think they have something super special but she does this with a lot of people and it’s super :/

does stick and pokes a whole bunch. she can’t draw for shit so they’re not great but she thinks they’re fun and she’s been doing it for a while so like, who cares, right? let her give you one :)

gets sent dress prototypes and like. drafts of designs & articles of clothing from her fashion lines that aren’t out yet and won’t be for a while by her very own mother. saige absolutely gives them all away, for the most part. or it sits in her closet, and stays there. her go-to gift for birthday presents, or christmas gifts, or whenever she feels like it. like, feel free to raid her closet?

ok that’s all. love her.

wanted connections.

a best friend… someone who sticks by her side even though she is a certified Mess.

a ride or die… is it the same as a best friend? maybe. but it’s got a fancy name and i want both so :)

close friends… she’s really friendly and the kind of girl to have been really popular in high school but didn’t care for it and talks to everybody like she’s known them her entire life, so. she’d have a good amount of these!

grumpy friend… to balance her happy friend. she’ll fuck them up in a friendship way. with her cheerfulness.

party pals… they don’t talk much outside of parties but they’re practically glued to the hip when they’re at them. hold your hair back kind of close.

frenemies… or fake friends, toxic friends, people who use her for money or like … sex, or whatever? anything? people who barely tolerate her because she gives them stuff sometimes.

bad influences… they just encourage her to do more, be worse, never get better.

good influences… like … YOINK! stop being an idiot! do your homework! idot!

a tutor… because she’s like…smart…but she’s also stupid…super bad at math & science. help her.

hook ups… friends with benefits, a one night stand that is a little? awkward? since then. past & present tenses. :)

exes… she’s noncommittal so they likely wouldn’t have lasted very long but? yolo? she can be a heartbreaker, as marina said, as a treat? whether they dated or were fucking … either works. but i do love angst :)

one-sided hatred… someone who just fucking … despises her. but she doesn’t realize because she’s an idiot and thinks they’re just like. joking around! like they’re best buddies!

annoyance… but she’s the annoyance. she’s the thorn in their side.

ex-best friend… where something happened between them, like, anything, and it ruined their friendship forever. very sad. angst potential, though.

but like. i’ll take anything.

steals your mail… who knows why?

cat escape… he keeps running away and she keeps letting him inside her room even though she’s allergic…

married old couple… the kind of friendship where they always bicker like they’ve been together for fifty years, but it’s purely platonic (or is it? slowburn BAYBEY. DENIAL babyey.)

off and on again… i think that one that’s not good for them because they enable each other & only get like … angry at each other, and it’s like, messy. but it’s super hard to stop. probably reminds her of high school so that’s why she tries so hard to stick around, but alas. it’s not good. it’s toxic. stop it.

the drug dealer… the one she sleeps with… even though she can just pay for it because she’s rich but like. it’s funner this way.

blurred status… like, it’s just really confusing of what they are? are they, aren’t they? the relationship status is just … muddled. she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to. potential to hurt feelings. :)

please. take her. give me connections.

#ruhqintro #child abuse tw #drug abuse tw #alcoholism tw #addiction tw #death tw #hit and run tw #car accident tw #grief tw

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transstudiesarchive · 5 years

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Objects as Sites of Transition and Self-Expression

**Author’s Note: I am conducting these interviews and writing this post from the perspective of a white, nonbinary transmasculine, masc-leaning pansexual, queer college student who is majoring in Gender, Sexuality, and Queer Studies. I am not claiming that these experiences detailed below are indicative of the feelings of an entire group of individuals, nor am I claiming that my analysis represents anyone’s opinion but my own. I also recognize that there are many voices and experiences missing from these interviews that are essential to creating a larger picture of the trans experience. I was given explicit permission to share the information and personal stories that are detailed below.

Transitions are complex. Every person has their own experiences and individual hurdles that they’ve had to overcome while working towards the goal of becoming their full selves. I’ve been asked countless times to share my story of transition-- the story of how I came to be who I am and how I continue to grow-- but rarely have I felt truly seen by those listening. We spend a lot of time talking about the large and overarching ideas of what transition looks like, but rarely do I see emphasis on the specific and deeply individual stories of trans people. When I do, I often feel as if we are again being fed someone’s watered-down, generic, and often very westernized version of themselves.

I think that we often forget to look at the little details that make our transitions feel real to us. We forget that our stories are about more than just when we came out or when we started hormones or when we had surgery. Our stories are about humanity, attachment, and finding joy and comfort in the little things that help us understand ourselves, which is why I set out to hear and document the personal stories of trans individuals as they shared their intimate connections to the objects that they felt were a manifestation of their trans experience-- objects that the general media would never care to ask about.

My theory behind this work is that people’s transitions can be found within some of the most mundane objects. Humans have always found connection and meaning within the inanimate. We collect things and pass down family heirlooms and reminisce over items that bring back memories. I think that we often overlook just how integrated the material world is to a person’s transition. I wanted to hear people’s individual stories of their transition and identity through reflecting on and examining a personal object of their choice. To do this, I gathered up a group of trans people who were willing to share their stories with me. We spent an evening reminiscing together over tea and cookies while connecting with each other over the minuet similarities and differences between our transitions. I then let each person arrange their item among an artsy scenery in whatever way they felt compelled to before photographing each object myself.

The following three stories are stories of identity, resistance, and individual expression.

~~~

Rowan (he/she/they)

“Okay, so this wasn’t the first masc shirt I got, but it was one of them,” Rowan smiled and laughed a little as they pulled out a red and gray flannel button up, “I wore a t-shirt and button up to school every day and I feel like this is like… the “classic young trans masc button-up” look, ya know?” We all laughed at that because oh boy, was it true. Rowan said that they’d had that shirt since about 2014, and that despite the years of growing and the natural wear-and-tear, the shirt was still at least two sizes too big for them. They talked about their experience of going to the store for the first time and picking out clothes from the “men’s” section, and how that was extremely validating. They had been having a lot of dysphoria surrounding wearing leggings at the time, so it was “really nice to pick out some men’s jeans and stuff.” Rowan then proceeded to share a story about their purple, seashell-adorned “dancing pants”, stating that “they might just be the best thing I own.”

Rowan asked for their personal identities not to be shared.

~~~

Robin (he/they)

When I asked everyone to pull out their items, Robin offered to speak first. In their hands was a gray waistcoat, adorned with black buttons and gray lining. They smiled fondly at it and said, “I got this waistcoat for $7 from Wish. I wore it to my Junior prom and that was the first time I was able to go out in fancy men’s clothes.” At the time they wore this, Robin hadn’t yet changed their name and was only out to a small after-school GSA group. Robin also mentioned that they were instrumental in getting their school’s dress code changed to something more gender-neutral, rather than the classic binary options. Continuing to reminisce on their roaring 20’s-themed prom experience, Robin described more of their memories attached to the waistcoat, “It was the best feeling. Even my mom noticed. She wanted to like… take pictures and stuff, and I was smiling so much that she was like “This is the most confident I’ve ever seen you!” So that was really cool.”

Robin is 19 years old, white, and is a college student majoring in History. They are a nonbinary trans male and are bisexual.

~~~

Sapin (he/she/they)

As they dug through their bag to find their item, Sapin began their story by prefacing that their first inclination was also to bring an item of clothing. “My first idea was to bring this shirt I shared with my first girlfriend, but it’s at their house and they live far away. We called it the “male lesbian” shirt-- we’re still friends-- but I brought this instead,” they said, triumphantly revealing the small white bottle of Minoxidil Hair Regrowth Treatment for Men from their bag. We all shared a laugh and they explained that they had been using it for about three months now and were super happy with the results. “Every time I talk about going on T with my family, they shut me down,” they shared, “So this was really the first thing that I could use to outwardly express my gender-- and they couldn’t do anything about it.”

Sapin is 19 years old, white, and is a college student majoring in Arts and Letters. They use the term “fagdyke” to describe their gender and sexual identities.

~~~

My Thoughts

After spending time with these people and recording their stories, I noticed a few trends between all three objects. First, I found it to be really interesting that the first thing that all three people thought to bring was an item of clothing. And while they weren’t able to bring these items, I still enjoyed hearing Sapin’s anecdote about the “male lesbian” shirt, and Rowan’s story about their “dancing pants”. It makes me think about how clothing influences our individual transitions and the ways in which we connect certain experiences to certain colors and fabrics and patterns that have played roles in our wardrobes over the years. Secondly, I noticed that each object that was brought held some meaning of self-expression and resistance to socially-imposed binaries. By wearing that waistcoat, Robin was able to truly express themselves to the point where other people noticed their positive change in demeanor. Sapin also caught the attention of the adults in their life by using the hair regrowth treatment to take charge of their gender expression.

One of the most important takeaways from this project for me was the realization that while all these objects were similar in many ways, they were also widely unique and all manifested as significantly different sites of transition. The interactions between these individuals and their objects show a strong correlation between the application of the object and the desire for them to be seen as the gender they truly are, but not once did I feel like their stories overlapped with each other. It’s very interesting to see how a group of items that all have essentially the same function of expression can hold such different meanings for people who are all in the midst of transition.

I’ve come to believe that it is deeply important, especially when working to understand our transitions, that we start to think less about the ideas and tropes that society pushes towards us, and instead start to think more about how little pieces of our lives have shaped us into the people we are today.

#trans studies #trans studies archive #trans experience #trans resistance

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