serially-elaine

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a little comic about happy trans visibility day

send me an ask or support me w/ merch

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its fast fashion to YOU. im wearing a forever21 sweater i got during the bush administration.

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Ritual

The time had come to settle all debt Out went every light, so darkness may abet Shields of shadows, blankets of blackness Touchstone tokens, wards against badness

Guardians of Spirit called forth by Mind Allies a heart of gratitude may always find Armed with courage, the ritual complete Gently on the floor, her own self to greet

Shapes without form or name In nothingness to motion came Drawing out memories of love and pain Testing against her guilt and shame

Hope unknowing, daring dreams of change Invited to stay, and so flee freedom's bane Within her dwelling to this day they remain

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Trans Youth

One of the hardest things about existing in trans spaces, especially as an older trans, are the DM’s from the teenagers. Trapped at home with hostile parents, no hope of blockers or HRT. Outside a given Discord server (for example), they might not have any other support than what you can give them. Therapy? Either unavailable due to cost, or the wrong kind (conversion). 

So I have to sit down with these poor, pained souls, and say okay: Your options are to stick it out (shitty and dangerous), call CPS if relevant and then try to stick it out in the foster system (also shit, also dangerous), or you can give up on college and potentially even a GED by bailing (also shit, also dangerous). 

It’s no wonder our statistics are what they are when so many of us are in situations like these. And what with the current legal battles being fought all over the world right now for trans rights, it’s no wonder that so many of us feel like no one is on our side. 

So, just keep an eye out for any support you can give trans youth especially. It can feel like things are getting better depending on where you are, and maybe they are, but these people need help. And all too often, we’re all we have.

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Feelings & Trans Experience

The first feeling I had when I thought I might be trans was “Oh no”

The second feeling I had when I realized I was trans was also “Oh no”

The third feeling, when I felt the absence of dysphoria for the first time - was incredible. There was a pain I did not know I had, because I could not remember a time without that pain. It was euphoric because for a little bit, I saw myself the way I assume cis people see themselves, and that normality was so relieving that it was joyful. It is like putting on glasses for the first time, except that I wasn’t in nearly as much pain from having poor vision. 

I find that, as I continue to transition in an endless journey sometimes referred to as my life, I become less gender euphoric. In my own case, I think this is a wonderful and exciting thing in of itself. It means that things which would normally signify an absence of pain are no longer so relieving that I feel joy, that my base experiences are no longer universally characterized by my dysphoria. I can look in the mirror without thoughts about my transness, but sometimes just smile because I like the way I look in that particular moment - the way I imagine some people have always been able to do upon occasion throughout their lives.

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Living A Normal Life

I live kind of atypically. I don’t have company much, so I don’t have the accoutrements expected in a normal person’s house. I acquired a couch for free I don’t use, and only own one chair. I have one desk and multiple bookshelves, and a bed. Throw in a dresser and a nightstand, and that’s my whole apartment. This suits me well enough, although I wish I had a couple more desks (which I may remove the couch to accommodate).  

The point is, some people think that this is sad. That it damages my ability to live normally, romance others, and be social. It was suggested to me that I acquire a dining room table and additional chairs. Which for most people is a very logical acquisition and I do not begrudge the advice or intentions. But it did get me thinking:

How many things in our lives do we accept through sheer incidence? What do we really need, what is useful, practical? I ask all two of my readers what your equivalent of my dining room table might be.

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Lamplight shines faintly upon the silhouettes of her balcony garden. Four thin, green stalks rise towards God and the moon like a prayer. 

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Names

A first name must be reliable, right, well-worn. A tool that you use every day must feel like it belongs in your hands, either by the design of its creator or by time. 

A middle name must grant strength. It is a support to lean on, a reminder, a small secret. The middle name is your aegis.

A last name is institutional. Oftentimes a burden, oftentimes a comfort - depends on the person wearing the name. Hard to get rid of, heavy with the weight of dead ancestors. Their expectations hound at you, but perhaps the legacy is also inspiring.

Do not be fooled, each and every one of these is a choice - but names are also quite sticky: easily given, difficult to remove. I hope your name is a home.

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Disco Elysium

I know I’m late to the party, but 2 minutes into this party: I’m convinced I have something very, very special here.

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For those in power, or with privilege, equality often feels like oppression. 

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Feeling

People always ask me how I’m feeling. They mean well, and are appealing to the common, colloquial intent of that question. The more I think about it, the more difficult I find it is to actually express my feelings. How AM I feeling? Aren’t our current understandings of what it means to feel a particular way mere archetypes - potentially but crucially not necessarily representative of my own feelings? As such I am taken by responding with the first metaphor that pops into my head, trusting that some internal mechanism will offer me a chance at a meaningful, if highly impractical answer. 

I feel like the song of a choir at night in the desert, carried by chill winds until it is dashed upon the brick and metal of a city. The city seems familiar, but you’ve never visited. You get the sense that you would want to live there, but also that you never could. You are just in the choir. You are just passing through. 

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My dear lgbt+ kids, 

It’s okay to miss people who were bad to you. 

Maybe it’s a friend who suddenly stopped hanging out with you after your coming-out or an ex-partner who guilt-tripped and manipulated you or even a  parent who physically abused you - you may hate them for the pain they caused you, you might be happy they are out of your life and never want to talk to them ever again. 

And still, sometimes you may watch a movie and catch yourself thinking about that time you watched a movie with them and laughed so hard about their jokes that you cried, and you feel a little sting in your heart. 

Or you face a difficult decision and a part of you wants to run to them and ask for advice. Maybe they were never very helpful advice givers. Even back then, they would have just manipulated or yelled at you anyway but that felt so familiar and normal back then. Somehow, it felt like love and you miss that love. 

That’s okay. Missing horrible people doesn’t mean you excuse everything they did. It doesn’t mean you’re a weakling who forgives too easily. It’s also not a sign that they weren’t bad people after all or that you have to let them back in your life. 

We can have happy memories, even with people who weren’t good to us. It’s not a contradiction. We don’t live in comics where the bad guy only does bad-guy-stuff 24/7 - fake friends, cheaters, homophobic people, bullies, abusers, all those people still do good stuff. They tell jokes, have family game night, hug and make great lasagna - it doesn’t excuse the harm they did but you can still miss it.

As much as we may want to, we can’t just delete people from our minds. It’s normal that memories and old feelings pop up sometimes - even if we now see them in a different light. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

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Do you have a complicated relationship with your parents and family and/or spend too much time wishing you could run away to a fantasy society that will accept you for who you are, or are you cishet?

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I have to block so many blogs in my search for good trans posts because I find sexual content generally uncomfortable. Not a bash against the people posting, just something on my end. 

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