Hey, buddy. Just sitting there, are we? On the corner of that box? For no reason?
Just wondering, have you seen your wee bro anywhere? No? #CatsOfMastodon
Oh god I was talking about Utena earlier and how it was my favourite anime in my university days, and... it just struck me how much of a role model Utena became for me:
unapologetically her (queer) self
kind-hearted and forgiving by default; she never goes looking for trouble
but when it finds her, she's exactly as tough and brave as she needs to be
fiercely protective of her friends, and critical of injustice
@Tattie Yeah, you're just describing Tattie, I think. Do you tenderly bend a girl back in your arms and pull the sword from her bosom? Because that would track...and be really gay and pretty to watch 🤩
@Impossible_PhD hi! I've been keeping myself busy-- throwing myself into dancing, swordfighting, and lately gardening. I've just got my first tattoo, and still looking forwards to FFS in September.
Wanted to go to #TransPrideLondon this year but it's too far to go just for the day, and I don't have anyone to hang with down there. A shame if I'll have to cancel those plans.
@Tattie I would 100% accompany you as your cis sidekick but it’s too far for me to go in a day too. Gets so expensive when you have to have accommodation as well as travel expenses
Anyway yeah, 2016 ish, I had just come out as non-binary, had started to experiment with presentation a little but was very much in the "I don't need to actually transition to be trans" mindset.
By the side of the road, I see a tree. It's a blackened, shattered ruin; looks like it's been hit by lightning. But amazingly one branch has begun to grow again, festooned with pink cherry blossom.
I begin to cry. I don't cry much; I'm too out of touch with my emotions. But today I can't help myself. This tree, it's beautiful; it affects me suddenly and profoundly.
And in the back of my mind I know why. I long for rebirth, renewal. A lot more desperately than I thought I did.
It still took me several more years after that to cotton on to the fact that while, yes, one doesn't need to transition to be trans, I, personally, did need that. Very much.
But then I needed a fair bit of therapy to admit that to myself. And it was round 2016 as well that I finally got the courage to start that therapy.
By twists and turns I got there, to the realisation of who I am today. A beautiful new self, who had been waiting so long for the chance to grow free and blossom.
Remembering just now when we said to people "ok, it's a really small thing, but I'd really love if you could just... not buy and play the new Harry Potter game, in solidarity with trans folk." And people couldn't fucking do that.
Anyway glad a Swiss enby clownfish won the genocide-neutral singing competition or whatever 🤷♀️
Heavy thought of the day: from a mental health and healing perspective, it doesn't matter whether what you went through in the past "really counts" as abuse or neglect or violence or trauma or whatever else.
Go ahead and treat yourself with the same kindness as someone who unambiguously has been through any of that.
What's the downside? You might treat yourself with a compassion you feel is unearned?
Because you don't need to justify self-compassion.
#trans people: what you want out of #transition is your business and nobody else's.
There is no moral component to what you desire. Do you want to look basically like a cis person of your favoured gender? Or visibly trans? Both are valid choices. Muscular, slim, or chunky? Elegant, tacky, or slobbish? Femme, masc, or aggressively non-binary? Big-titted? Small-titted? Flat as a board? Made up or natural? Alternative or normie?
Basically if it is achievable and safe, go for it. And if your vision evolves over time, that's great too!
The most powerful thing you can be is unapologetically yourself. Let nobody, cis or trans, shame you for your own choice of presentation. You never asked to be at the forefront of some culture war. Your chosen look isn't a comment on feminism or queer rights or race or privilege or anything else.
Today was a bank holiday, so I booked an aerobics class in the morning, with both swordfighting and dancing in the evening. 🤸♀️🤺💃
I told folks at the dance class all I was doing today, and their mouths dropped open, and one said "but after Monday you're going to have a rest, yes?"
Oh no, my friend. I am not.
It's funny because as a kid my parents were constantly trying to push me to be more sporty. I was the black sheep of the family; the klutz who would rather be in front of a computer than a football.
It all changed when I transitioned. I finally gave myself permission to be who I always should have been... and to my surprise that person turns out to be very much my parents' daughter. Turns out when my body feels like my own, I want to be proud of it. I want it to push it to be faster and stronger, I want to have endurance and control. I want to use it to do everything I set my mind to. I finally understand the point of what they were pushing me to do.
Which does not invalidate the goofy, nerdy kid I was. Just like my favourite childhood superhero, Spider-Man, I'll always be an awkward geek (coughautisticcough) at heart. Only he got his powers from radioactive spider venom, and I got mine from estrogen. 😅
Or maybe the magic serum is just self-acceptance. The conflict between my inner and outer self is resolving, and everything is so much easier now.
I'll have to slow down eventually; this body is already middle-aged, and damaged from decades of not treating it very well. But for now, I'm making up for lost time.