"who Radicalized You" Ever Since I Was A Child I Wanted Other People To Be Treated Nicely And Fairly

⠀⠀▬ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs + ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇs ʟʏʀɪᴄs • ᴅᴏɴ·ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ !

⠀⠀♡ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴏʀ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜsᴇ/sᴀᴠᴇ｡ [ ✧ · ゚: ]

if you say shit about flamboyant gay men im going to fucking shank you. without warning

I truly wish I could get cis people and non-butches to understand how inherent transness/butchness/gender-nonconformity is for so many of us, specifically related to how visible it can be even when we do our damndest to hide it.

My parents suggested I detransition/try to appear “womanly” because it’s getting really dangerous where I live, and I’m just like…there is no world in which I can make that work. I was getting called a lesbian and a dyke as a teen before I even figured out I was gay. I was shoved up against a wall in college and sexually assaulted in public when I was in the process of coming out and presenting very femininely, specifically because I was a lesbian. Even when I spent hours playing with makeup because it was kind of fun (because I did wacky styles that make me think I was using it as a drag thing more than anything) I still stuck out next to cishet girls.

I’m not saying I can’t do things to improve my safety, but I have been butch/trans/gender-nonconforming my entire life. I cannot undo that from the fabric of who I am; even if I cover it up, the people who want to do harm can typically still pick up on it.

“Sometimes I imagine what it’d be like to / show you I’m alive. The thrill of it. The sharp / inhale. The nerve exposed. The bone.”

— — Kate Baer, from “First Love,” What Kind of Woman (via lifeinpoetry)

My genderfluid brain when I wear the same thing as I always do but with heeled boots or a necklace this time

(Tru/scum and tran/smeds don’t interact!)

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Recently, I’ve heard a story about two men. They are friends, bonded, with a natural want to be close to one another. Who can say what they might have done privately? While they were in the view of others, however, they took care to keep apart. So far apart, in fact, that in one look strangers saw through their facade, and mocked them for their empty performance. By worrying about appearances, they drew more attention to themselves than they ever would have gotten if they had simply acted out of their wants and desires. Their created charade of apathy only made their intimacy more apparent. Tell me, Will. Are you going to keep sitting on the other side of the hot tub, or will you come sit next to me?