Auggieoof - August (he/him/it)

BEGGING PEOPLE TO DO MY SURVEY FOR MY LINGUISTICS CLASS

Google Docs

Neopronouns Attitudes

Thank you for taking the time to participate. This survey is being used to gather data for my end-of-semester assignment for my linguistics

no, No!

I refuse!

I refuse to give into the transmasc temptation of naming myself after my current character hyperfixation

it didnt work the last 30 times why would it work now

(unless..)

I think this might be my new magnum opus

A dumb idea that I had while at work that is now real thanks to me drawing it: the alphabet mafia!! I think the term alphabet mafia is way too funny for conservatives to use, I kind of like it even if it's supposed to be bad lol

I tried to be creative with the designs but they kinda suck, also fun fact the bisexual person is nonbinary because I wanted to include a nonbinary person as well :)

[ID: a digital drawing with a rainbow pride flag background of the alphabet mafia, a group of queer people who have weapons and color schemes associated with their pride flags /END ID]

i dont think this is an original thought and i apologize for the generalization but this has been stuck in my brain zone for like, a year.

i know i at least wanna look like elvira.

I kinda feel like I kind of grew up like this:

Little kid (kinda gender neutral childhood, I didn't feel pressured to be anything. I looked like a little girl, but my childhood was more masculine kinda) -> hell™️ (puberty, first E puberty hopefully I'll have my T puberty soon!) -> purgatory (my current stage, waiting to move out and start my life.)

I was very detached from femininity most of my life; I have and had masculine hobbies and interests, stuff like that, but it's like I was cursed to grow up in a body that didn't suit me.

It kinda feels like I was not a female-looking and feeling person until my puberty.

Hope this made sense!

The trans FTM experience of not knowing how to feel about your detachment from femininity and growing up a woman

HOLY SHIT I LOVE THE INTERNET SOMETIMES

Dropping this here for anyone who may not already know about it. paywallreader.com

I hate how people martyr the pre-transition version of myself, as if they were an innocent victim I've killed.

When they speak about my past, they use my old name, and always in a somber tone, as if they're mourning this poor innocent person who had so much promise, who had achieved so much. When I remind them it was me, I'm still here, I'm told that it was them who achieved these things, that I need to remember that.

That person they remember so fondly, mourn so much was a shell. They mention how pretty she was, how accomplished she was. They speak about me now with disdain, like I've ruined her memory. Like everything I'm doing now is an affront to what she did. They attribute the achievements I made to somebody else, somebody who doesn't exist.

I was miserable. I made all of those achievements in spite of my suffering. On paper I was the perfect granddaughter, the oldest daughter, the golden child. In reality, I couldn't imagine a life where I could ever feel happiness, barely took care of myself, was numb to everything. All of those achievements are nothing in comparison to the joy that living my life authentically has brought me. The passport showing my sex as male, with my chosen name, is worth so much more to me than my degree certificates.

Doing what was expected of me what easy, nobody would have shunned me for being the perfect daughter. The efforts I've made over the past year to build a life worth living, just for myself, in spite of how I've been treated for it, that has been hard. But that is worth it.

Shout out to that period of time when I was a little kid and I would ask for hugs from random people even though that was an objectively awful idea

🫠👍

(Dw I don't do that anymore but I still love hugs from people who are my friends)

Shout-out to the autistics who crave hugs. Shout-out to the autistics whose love language is touch.

And shout-out to the autistics who were denied a timely diagnosis because a misinformed professional thought you were "too affectionate" to be autistic.

You aren't any less autistic because of how you show affection. And you aren't nearly as rare as pop culture and outdated research would imply.