#the transfem swag...
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shoutout to beautiful n+c androgynes, they saved my life
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When I came out, I was SO scared I was gonna get disowned. I wrote a letter to my parents, sent it to their emails, put a physical copy on the counter, and left the house for a few hours to give them time. In that time I tried coffee for the first time, which was a dreadful idea, and got all jittery. I kept waiting for a text or something but nothing happened.
After a few hours, I didn’t hear back from them so I went home. My parents were home and had stacked a bunch of groceries on top of the letter without opening it. They said “hi” and I said “hi” and went down stairs to the basement. I held my dog and panicked about what to do. My sister, who knew that I had written them a letter of great importance, told me they hadn’t read it yet. She also told me she could ask them to do so. I consented to this and stayed in the basement. A few minutes later my dad knocked on the door and poked his soft smooth little nerd head in and said “hey buddy” and I started crying so hard I almost vomited. He came over and gave me a BIG hug and said that it was gonna be OK, he was OK with this, he knew it must have been hard but he was here for me. He told me he and my mom had already talked years before they had me about how if they had to pick between their faith and their child they’d pick their child. It was a very sweet moment. I came out to my mom later that evening and we were both bawling the whole time.
The day after I came out to my parents, I came out to my brother @inbabylontheywept at a Mexican restaurant and he took it like a champ. That evening my mom took me for a walk and looked almost angry - she said she wanted to make sure that I didn’t use being a woman as an excuse to not go to grad school. I told her I wouldn’t and she instantly looked relieved and happier.
My dad, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with it. He kept asking me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him I did not. He kept asking me if I wanted to go clothes shopping with him and I did not. He kept asking me if I would let him go to some of my shows, and I had NO idea what he was talking about.
Finally, 6 months after coming out, of awkward misgendering and questions that didn’t make sense from my dad, he excitedly pokes his soft smooth little nerd head into my bedroom again and says “I found a movie about Your People.” My people. I was absolutely bewildered, but he was so excited and I knew he had been trying SO hard so I watched it with him. It was The Birdcage, and it was amazing. It also was revelatory in that I finally realized why my initially-supportive father seemed to be having such a hard time with my pronouns and stuff - he didn’t know what the difference between trans and doing drag was. After the movie he again asked if I would invite him to one of my shows, and I said, “Hey dad, you know how about half the world is women?” And he said “yeah,” and I said “Well, see, I’m on that half now. I’m not doing drag.” And it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was like “omg that’s so easy? I was so confused about what to call you when?”
Anyway, my parents are charming and my family has been so kind and patient with me, I like sharing the stories of my little wins with them.
#tgirl swag#mormon#ex mormon#exmormon#worm#gay#tgirl#trans humor#transfem#trans pride#trans stuff#transgender#transgirl#sillyposting#silly little guy#dad#stories#family#short story#story
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Hi trans lover 🏳️⚧️❤️ I'm new here please treat me well
#trans pride#trans girl#trans man#trans woman#transgender#transmasc#transfem#trans rights#transformers#trans gay#gay#extraordinary tgirl#tgirlsheaven#tgirl swag#tgirlselfie#latina tgirl#trans sexism#transbian#transbeautiful
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This was. funny to me
(they could be real btw: [1] [2])
#trans#transgender#transmasc#transfem#transfemme#top surgery#trans swag#trans man#trans woman#don't talk to me until
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Raya Lauren: I love her so MUCH!! I just love adorable petite transgender girls! And the dress!!!! OMG She's so adorable ladies don't you just LOVE her?
#trans#transgender#trans community#queer#lgbtlove#cisgender#cis men dni#lgbtqia#transfem#genderqueer#latina tgirl#t girl tummy tuesday#t girl#t girl tumblr#t girl swag#trans pride#transgirl#transgenderwoman#homosexual#homoerotism#homoerotic#gay#gay nswf#m2f transgender#boyswillbegirls#crossdresser#m2f#m2f body swap#trans is sexy#tranny
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Cali chic bikini with short wig



#cross dressing#fem bottom#transgender#cute crossdreser#transfem#transgirl#mtf sub#transgurl#transfashion#transsexual#trans girl#t girl#t girl swag
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Love it when they do this
#stephanie brown#orihime inoue#momo yaoyorozu#katara#batfam#young justice#dead sidekicks force#honorary anomalies#spiderpunks 2023#the unbreakables#bleach#bnha geekery#our hero academia#atla geekery#tgirl swag#transfem#autism creature#💌#summerposting#timsteph#stephcass#ichihime#todomomo#kataang#azutara#katoph#jetara#momojirou#minamomo#autistic girl summer
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divinely chosen
#gorgonic#witch bitch#spidergoth#black goth transgirl#gothgoth#black goth transfem#tgirl swag#upload attempt no. 6
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yes lexi whatever u say beautiful
#marble hornets#marble hornets fanart#alex kralie#lexi kralie#alex kralie fanart#alex marble hornets#mh fanart#transfem alex kralie#digital art#artists on tumblr#i like ibis paints filters i made the shadow thing wit a filter on there. swag#slenderverse#slenderverse fanart#mh alex kralie#marble hornets alex#mandalina
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transfem joker . if you even care.
#takemi gets her estrogen 'legally'#SORRY I REALLY REALLY LOVE TRANSFEM JOKER#i hope i kept some of the gnc swag that canon joker has just like. in a different font#her hair is a fuck ass mullet bc i think if its any longer it would just felt together n never untangle#anyways :)#persona#persona 5#p5#ren amamiya#akira kurusu#trans persona 5 protagonist#my art
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ngl I love this in fandoms when a small fraction of the queer community simply decides that "we have too few transfem characters, what to do? hm I know! let's take that male character with extreme loser vibes and wet cat core and headcanon her as transfem! just for fun!" and then someone takes it to analyze and- wait, why does this headcanon actually even make sense…?
#i can tell#i was there when the gacha comunity started headcanon-ing michael afton as transfem#and i was there to wach the transfem hunter allegations begin#it didn't took me more than one (1) week after waching the fnaf movie to see people talking about tgirl Mike#took too long#‼️ obligatory reminder that I am transmasc genderfaun and not transfem ‼️#I'm particularly so in love with this character trope that I even have an OC#but it doesn't give me any 'free pass' bulshit to say something offensive#so if i did please correct me and i'm sorry#transfeminine#transfem#transgirl#tgirl swag#transfem dabi#transfem tim drake#transfem hunter deamonne#transfem michael afton#transfem jason todd#transfem damian wayne#transfem dick grayson#sorry#transfem dipper#transfem headcanon#fandom stuff#transgenderism#tbh Cass and Steph are too very transfem codded#but they're both canon afab so i don't think they fit#plus i ALSO headcanon Cass as transmasc lesbian so yeah#Duke too but she's too cool to fit looser and i headcanon her as genderfluid
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N but she's a trans QUEEN 🏳️⚧️🏳️⚧️🏳️⚧️✨️✨️✨️
#my art#art#sketch#murder drones#murder drones au#n murder drones#serial designation n murder drones#serial designation n#transfem N#v murder drones#uzi doorman#serial designation v#serial designation v murder drones#uzi murder drones#nuzi#vuzi#envy#envuzi#biscuitbites#nuziv#rp twt#Tgirl Swag au
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I think the worst day I had as a missionary is hard to pin down – for comedy bad day stories, I like to talk about my cute companion who ripped three pairs of pants in one day because his ass was so fat. Literally, two in the morning, we missed 3 appointments in the afternoon because people kept cancelling on us, and we ended up far away from home visiting “Less Actives” in the downtown area. We find a family who says we can come in once their dad get home, and we sit down to wait for the dad to get in and RIIIPPP goes the third pair of slacks this man wore that day. I hand him my suit jacket and he wraps it around his waist like a bashful adolescent who just started his period at an inconvenient time. We catch a ride home on a bus and ended up home an hour early. He cried for like 30 minutes while stitching up his pants, and I got to rest a lot more than expected that day. We ordered a 4-cheese pizza and went to bed early that night, having walked probably 5-6 miles that day knocking doors and getting turned away.
Another bad day was the day the Mexico City Temple was re-opening. It was a funny experience for me because the evening before I was contacted by the Mission President and told that an elder in our district had confessed some serious sins to him and that those sins precluded him from going to the temple. The MP told me that nobody in this elder’s ward could get time off to babysit him so he was begging one of us – I didn’t want to go to the temple, it was a crappy way to spend a P-Day in my opinion, so I told the MP I’d do it. I spent the day eating popsicles and napping with an elder who, in between Bolis and naps, would shakily and tearfully confess that no fewer than half of his companions had secret phones they used to watch porn, hire prostitutes, and buy drugs. This was bewildering to me since I had been Trying So Hard my whole mission and had always felt inadequate, and these elders who were doing better than me and more respected than me were somehow out here fucking, doing drugs, and jorkin’ it.
I was actually in a “Punishment Area” at the time because in my last area one of my life-threateningly attractive companions had gone into the homes of widows to repair their electrical wirings (he was a trained electrician prior to going on a mission.) Being alone in the home of an 80-year-old widow with failing lights was “against the rules” to the extent that me mandaron a la goma, and some handful of guys I’d been told to view as role models were out here breaking actual laws and shit. Of course, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was in this area because of the Deep Evil that Lay Within My Heart (wanting to kiss Elder Electrician on his stupid himbo lips) but my MP could not have known that, just like he didn’t know that the guys he was making Zone Leaders were getting their dicks sucked and snorting cocaine. That honestly felt outrageous to me.
I feel like the stereotypical “worst day” of a mission is the last day – they take you to the airport in a big van, all melancholy and nostalgic. We sang on our drive to the airport – elders and sisters tearfully sang or hummed hymns together. I was deadpan the whole time, it was such a relief to be going home. For me the worst part of the day was the relief – the release of pressure. The pressure to perform, to be “on,” to be at your best, is omnipresent for elders. I was the only person flying to Phoenix, so for the first time in two years I felt a release from that pressure. Nobody was scrutinizing me, I no longer felt that every thought, action, and feeling was being evaluated and judged as a sign of my true character. It was hard to realize, a the pressure let up, that I had been holding all that weight for two years without knowing when it had started. I remember getting confused in Customs and needing someone who spoke Spanish to talk to me because I kept forgetting words in English. I remember getting home and my family waiting for me and feeling like it was all finally done, finally over, I could finally breath. It didn’t feel bad, but it did feel heavy. And it definitely was not the worst day of my mission.
The actual worst day of my mission, though, was about 5 months in. At the 6-month mark I was expected to make a long trip down to an area of town near La Basilica de Guadalupe to submit my visa paperwork, and the mission office had sent me an extra $500 MX to use for transportation costs. When I withdrew the money they had sent for the month, I noticed it was higher than expected. My companion, a senior companion and district leader, had the cell phone. He was talking to another elder while he waited for me to withdraw my monthly deposit. I approached and asked if I could use the cell phone to call the mission office, as I had questions. He said “no,” and ignored me. I waited until the conversation ended and asked again, and again, angrily, he said, “No.” I said “Elder, relax, I just need to call the mission office to see why they sent me more this month than usual.” His face turned red as he realized other elders were watching the exchange occur. He handed me the phone, I called and was told the money was for transportation costs, and laughingly returned the phone to my companion. He took it, told the other elders he needed to tie his shoe but they could head on over to the District Meeting, and waited until they were out of eyesight. Once that was done, he grabbed me hard by the wrist, dragged me into a hidden corner out of earshot from others, and said, “If you ever disrespect me or my authority again I swear to God I will kill you.”
I was actually shocked. This guy had spent the last month and a half being SUPER nice to me, so I thought he was kidding and I was just confused. I laughed and said “Haha, yeah, your authority over the cell phone is sacred,” and tried to walk away but he didn’t let go of my wrist. He pulled me back and said “I will literally slit your throat if you ever talk to me like that again. As senior companion my authority over YOU is sacred, and I will not let God be mocked by you.”
I realized that he was serious. Like, actually threatening-my-life serious. I could see it in his eyes, I could feel it in the way he squeezed tighter on my wrist. In actuality, the idea seems laughable now. The guy was absolutely chickenshit. He cried if his shits were too hard, he couldn’t end a human life, but I still didn’t let myself fall asleep first for the rest of our time together. And I still hid the two knives we had in a different area while he was showering the next morning.
If I’m being honest though, even that wasn’t the worst day of my mission. That was bad, and each subsequent time he told me he was going to cut my throat for minor infractions against his God-Given Authority Over Me (like not wearing a belt for morning scripture study, or not taking the path he thought was best to get to a lesson) was a bad day. Every P-Day where he read my emails over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t telling my parents about how he was treating me, every day he told me that the ward members would never believe me over him, every day he put me down in front of other elders and they laughed in agreement, every day he was in a bad mood and took it out on me was a bad day. But the worst day was the day I told the mission president about it. I told him about the threats to my life, his temper, his physical abuse, hiss manipulation and rule-breaking, and the mission president told me “The time to tell me this was 6 months ago. The time to forgive him and focus on your own failings is now.”
I don’t think I’ve ever felt as confused or betrayed as I did then. Like, man oh man, that was a rough thing to hear, but as the day went on I kept feeling more and more confused and scared – had I misinterpreted everything? Had I miscommunicated something in telling the story? Had I not been objective enough in recounting the threats against my life? Was it true that a senior companion actually had the authority to hurt me if I went against his authority? Was I wrong the whole time? I had no idea, to be honest, but it was bewildering.
Knowing now what I wish I had known then, I would have done things differently. But in the moment, on a mission, knowing that my biggest reason for going on a mission was the hope that the Spirit of God, which hymns told me burns like fire, would burn the faggot out of my heart. I think I felt like I deserved it. Like somehow that elder knew the evil I was hiding and felt compelled by God’s power to hurt me. I think that’s what made it so hard to defend myself in the moment – I did not have that problem with other elders. The companion who told me we were gonna wrestle to settle an argument lost three consecutive matches and pouted about it for like a week. The elder who threatened to punch me for making a joke at his expense got knocked on his ass just for raising his fist. But this elder got into my head first, and that made it hard to fight against it. Instead of fighting against it, I just silently lived with actual, verifiable, diagnosed, by-the-book, DSM-5-TR Posttraumatic Stress Disorder because I thought I deserved it. It took consistent supervision of my clinical work revealing countertransference with Male LDS clients (I consistently discussed addressing shame in a client’s presentation where no shame or discomfort had been reported), an awkward conversation with @inbabylontheywept after an even more awkward dinner with a cousin who vaguely reminds me of that companion, and a bad acid trip where I had visceral flashbacks to my mission, before I was able to realize that I was living with a pain that was as abnormal as it was unnecessary.
Even once I realized it, even once I got help, it was hard. I remember telling jokes about what happened to my therapist and seeing her jaw just…drop. She said she didn’t know it had been that dangerous for me. The session ended and he sent me the PCL-5 (a good, evidence-based, highly face-valid measure for PTSD) and some other measure for dissociative symptoms and I was like “Girl, I just took this class, I know what you’re trying to measure and this ain’t it.” I reported my symptoms accurately and was fully prepped to confront her the next session. She showed me my scores and the norms used, and I was like “Oh fuck, this looks really bad on paper,” and she was like “Yeah, I can’t imagine living like this” and I just sobbed for most of that session. We ended up doing 9 months of TF-CBT and ACT (largely because I am a terrible and uncooperative patient, realistically I think I could have been done in like 5-6 months if I wasn’t so stubborn) before I was discharged from treatment successfully.
The thing that was so weird about starting therapy for PTSD was that it made things feel worse for a while. I started taking edibles a lot more. I started behaving differently around family members and Mormons. I started being outright hostile to elders I could see. It took about 3 months before I could see the missionaries and not have an actual fight-or-flight response to their presence. I think the way I had made it a far as I did without getting treatment was by repressing the thoughts, feelings, and memories that made it all hurt, and a soon as I let them just be there it was like all the confusing aching hurt came back. The first few months of therapy were just spent expanding the amount of time I could feel that hurt before turning to other means (like dissociation, cannabis, repression, etc.) so I could actually address the experiences without crashing the rest of the day. It was hard. I know I ended several sessions sweating a LOT from the exertion it took to just let the feelings happen. By 6 months, however, I could go into a church building without blacking out from panic. By 9 months I could sit in the same room as elders without sweating and shaking like a chihuahua on Adderall. 3 months after therapy and me and my supervisors noticed that my work with Mormon men had improved substantially. 6 months after therapy and I was able to begin writing anonymous stories online. Now, about two years after completing therapy, I feel like I can talk about it without needing the cloak of anonymity, and that is empowering.
Again, I am not sure why I’m typing these stories out – they’re not fun to write, I don’t love that my family can find these posts, but I guess I just like to remind myself and others that it can always get better. That mind numbing platitude, the old thought-terminating clich�� that “it gets better, just power through it” doesn’t give enough credit to how much it hurts to get through it, but it does get better. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. The triggers can go away with time, great effort, significant expense, and a lot of discomfort. The world can feel safe again, the hurt can feel bearable, that nagging worry that I might have deserved this, or that I did something wrong, can eventually go away too. It’s not easy to do it, and I have an incredible respect for the patients of mine who can pull it off, but it is undeniably as doable a it is difficult. If this story resonates with anyone, if it feels close-to-home, if these experiences feel shared, just know that the relief I talked about can feel shared too. Know that it’s worth it to get the help, that you deserve the help, that you deserve to live a life that doesn’t hurt you, that you deserve to be a full person and not a living prison for the pain and memories. Know that healing yourself does not involve extending forgiveness to Them, whoever They are. That the pain you felt will not be made less important by making the pain less potent. Know that taking care of yourself now is, in a way, taking care of yourself then. And Please, with a capital P, take care of yourselves.
Thank you to my family, especially my immediate family (special shout outs to @flowerologists and @inbabylontheywept) for the support and patience with me as I dealt with this.
Thank you to my therapist, Jordin Borques, who I recommend highly to anyone seeking trauma therapy in Arizona.
Thank you to my wife, @cintailed, for being the push that got me into therapy, and for taking care of me at my worst and still being here with me.
Thanks to my mission president for being such a colossal disappointment to Christianity that my departure from the church was inevitable.
And a general thanks to the queers for being so cute and making life worth living, even on bad days.
#tgirl swag#mormon#ex mormon#exmormon#gay#ptsd recovery#ptsd#ptsd tw#cw ptsd#tw violence#male violence#cw: violence#mormon missionary#mormon mission#therapy#therapist#PsyD#gay pride#trans stuff#transfem#transgirl#trans pride#trans#tw abuse#cw abuse#long post#long reads#story#storytelling
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My beautiful daughter Joyfriend... I've missed you so much.
(she/her only for her)
#artings#joyfriend#transfem boyfriend#(im gonna start just tagging her joyfriend from now on since im set on that name now)#fnf#friday night funkin#fnf fanart#boyfriend fnf#friday night funkin boyfriend#art#digital art#colored sketch#transfem headcanon#i havent vocalized it as of late but transfem bf will always be the realest base game headcanon to me. not a dig at transmasc bf#(i am transmasc myself and think either headcanon is valid) but that's just a girl to me. she has girl swag all over her she just needs e#also sorry i havent drawn her like At All i got caught up trying to cook stuff for wyd!RGB and then got obsessed with RGBFverse#im kinda doing more random stuff again now so i might try and draw her more again but shruuugs ill make no guarantee#do know i rattle her in my head. and think everyone should give the transfem bf headcanon more of a chance
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cuddling<3
please use she/her for sollux and he/him for aradia on this post, they are transfem femme and transmasc butch respectively!
#arasol#aradia megido#sollux captor#homestuck#transfem sollux captor#transmasc aradia megido#dsart#2yrsevent#all of my aradias are kind of identical im realizing but he just has that gender whatever swag...
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Such a lovely lady!
#trans community#trans#transgirl#homosexuality#lgbtqia#homoerotic#homosexual#tboy swag#queer#lgbt#lgbtpeople#transfem#transgenderwoman#lgbtlove#trans pride#gay men#transgender#gay girls#gay mlm#gay fashion#gay woman#gay yearning#i am so gay#im gay#im so gay#so gay#gay#gay news
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