#afab health issues

[sparkles-and-trash]

Little post about the hospital visit and planned surgery since endometriosis needs to be talked about more and I wanna do my part!! 🤠

cw for medical and period talk!

So my main symptoms have been present since I first fot my period at 10.

Extreme pain, considering I have a naturally high pain tolerance it was rather extreme, to the point where I pass out, throw up, and need the hospital for pain relief sometimes.

I also have always had extreme bleedings and no birthcontrol (pills, the little stick in the arm, IUD) have worked.

Last year I got diagnosed with PCOS, which is another hormonal thing, but that didn’t explain these things, and so my gyn luckily continued checking me, and soon found some big endo scars on my right ovary.

The last six months ish things have gotten so much worse, to the point where I’m bedridden a lot, and haven’t been able to work.

Today I had the consultation with the doctor responsible for my surgery, and I was honestly mostly scared of her not wanting to do much, because that’s sadly very normal where I live.

During the checkup however, she found a lot, like, A LOT, more issues than we thought, a lot of endo scarring, cysts and muscle knots.

So the surgery will be quite a bit bigger than anticipated, which sucks, but at least they’re taking it very seriously, which is great!

There were also some worry that the cysts could have been cancerous, but there was nothing that made her think that today, and they will be sure to double check everything after the surgery, which feels great.

The surgery will basically be them removing the right ovary, pieces of the uterus, and all the cysts, scarring and muscle knots they can.

Personally I wish they’d take all of the uterus out now, but they legally cannot do that without trying this first, and the doctor promised me she’ll do it if it comes back and gets bad again!

All in all I am very happy with how things went, and mostly I am just beyond relived being taken seriously.

If you think you have endo, please tell your doctor or gyn.

Early discovery can prevent it getting this bad, or much worse, and help is available.

It is nothing to be embarrased or ashamed of, and a better life is possible.

If anyone has questions or needs advice, or are just curious because maybe someone you love struggle with this my dm’s and asks are always very open to you ♥️

Thank you for reading ♥️

[forgotten-daydreamer]

oh funny story, last week i reached new levels of "i think i'm a bother 24/7" because i waited too long to tell the nurse at the blood drive that i was feeling unwell. i waited like a whole minute (which is too long. too long when donating blood.) before looking at her and going "i'm not sure, but i think i don't feel good?" and i passed tf out with a bp of 90/60

[g4yr4t]

once again just bc men in a certain group have issues that affect them differently bc they are men it does not mean they are oppressed for being men

[omi-papus]

Hey besties, medical gasligthing sucks, and YOU dont get to pretend its ok when you do it. When someone tells you that they cant do your free bleeding, no underwear, no bra hippie thing you claim is fixing society, YOU DONT GET TO TELL THEM THAT THEYRE WRONG ABOUT THEIR OWN BODY, AND YOU DONT GET TO BULLY THEM ABOUT IT. Cool? Cool.

And dont tell disabled people shit about anything EVER.

[thethingything]

I forgot that being on our period fucks us up emotionally and gives me really bad dysphoria. that would maybe explain why we've been struggling so much with triggers that aren't normally a huge issue

[ahalliance]

it’s been multiple nights in a row now that ive been unable to fall asleep bc ive been so fucking pissed off at how society and people therein treat trans people . i need hrt now

[dwinjohnsel]

Jesus fucking Christ I think I have a cyst on my right ovary someone please kill me I feel nauseous I'm in so much pain

[planetariumx]

love how little scientific research we get concerning our own fucking bodies

[mako-ink]

TW// nausea

Sometimes I think about how I was refused nausea medication for years (from 8th grade to my first year of college) despite having a chronic nausea issue and was only given nausea medication last semester to help with a DIFFERENT health issue I had. I usually know when I’m going to actually throw up or not, so when I would wake up for school or work too nauseous to leave the house but unable to throw up or feel better, I missed out on a lot of days I needed to be present if I just simply had the medicine I do now. Well, I’m unsure if they’ll let me get another prescription since the other health issue went away (hopefully doesn’t come back) but since having the medication I’ve actually been able to be more functional and present. It’s a little frustrating at times.

[agendercryptidlev]

Update: The claim that Hergie Bacyadan spoke out against Imane Khelif seems to be misinformation. I apologize for spreading it, no one is immune to propaganda etc. This does not change the fact that the trans community has an intersexism/interphobia problem that is being made incredibly obvious by this olympics discourse.

Seeing the recent bigoted comments by transgender Olympian Hergie Bacyadan, it's past time for the perisex trans community to address the normalized intersexism/interphobia that so many of us spread.

The intersex community is constantly used as a prop by the trans community. The most frequent way you see trans people speak about intersex issues is just to remind transphobes that sex isn't binary, which is meaningless when the trans community still strictly enforces intersexist binaries like AMAB vs AFAB and TME vs TMA and Transfemme vs Transmasc, all categories that many if not most intersex people, trans or cis, cannot fit neatly into. The trans community uses the intersex community to win arguments and than makes next to no effort to make our intersex siblings feel welcome.

When talking about HRT and gender affirming care for minors, the trans community almost never uplifts the voices of the intersex community who are often forced to undergo HRT as children and surgery on their genitalia as actual babies against their will. It is important for HRT and gender affirming care to be available to transgender children, it is just as important to keep these same things that can be life saving for trans children from being forced onto intersex children who do not consent.

I implore all perisex trans people to do some reading into the history of intersex activism, and the sad reality of life for intersex people today when so many governments and health systems are still bigoted against intersex people. Uplift intersex voices, always.

[itsnotmyfaultsomepeoplecantread]

I feel conflicted about how neurological conditions are diagnosed. Like, on the one hand, it helps a lot of us get help and treatment. On the other hand, the DSM’s criteria often don’t allow for the nuance that these conditions may interact and present as.

Anyway, shout out to all my fellow neurodivergent and mentally ill folks who have so many things going on in their brain that the diagnoses are never consistent and are never *quite* accurate.

[drdemonprince]

just. dont ever talk about any experience of sexist oppression having anything to do with a person's assigned sex at birth. i promise you that whatever you're going through """""""as an afab""""""""""""" is something that trans women routinely experience as well, and that for them it's worsened by transmisogyny. YES this includes reproductive health access dont even fucking start with me. have you ever even heard of a women's health clinic providing trans women with reproductive banking, or any options that would make it possible for them to become mothers at all? no? okay. every single sexist experience under the sun is one that impacts trans women except in their case they are completely erased from mainstream feminist conversations about the issue at all. none of this is afab specific and you dont just sound like a terf when you say that it is, you in actual fact are promoting transmisogyny. instead of issuing such exclusionary blanket statements you can just have some amount of humility and curiosity on the matter and listen to trans women

[littleapocalypsekitten]

I have a friend who had this kind of thing happen to her.  She’s alive, so she didn’t wind up on an autopsy table before the problem was taken care of, but... this is basically her story right up until she couldn’t pee and they did surgery for what they thought was kidney stones / failing kidneys.  Turns out it was a rogue uterus trying to kill her and endo so bad it was choking off her kidneys.  Had a whole hysterectomy.  Was ignored for years over complains of pain.  Told to just “accept her period.”   She has other medical problems.  She does distrusts doctors.  

Sooo I reblogged this last night, checked the notes this morning, saw OP was a fucking TERF, deleted the rb, and am now reposting.

[gay-otlc]

I think the above screenshots (taken from this post) are a great example of how transandrophobia functions: A combination of misogyny, anti-masculinity, and transphobia, intersecting in a way that specifically targets trans men & mascs.

Transphobia

It is transphobic to say that medically transitioning, or transness in itself, is a mental illness. If you believe someone's trans identity is a mental illness in need of "treatment," you are a transphobe. Particularly the first one, saying that the "wrong kind" of transness should be illegal. That is an incredibly horrific thing to say no matter what, and especially given the current political situation for trans people.

Misogyny

Trans men are men, but claiming or implying that trans men are inherently "hysterical," "emotionally unstable," or "insane" is still rooted in misogyny. There is a long history of women, or people who were thought to be women, being discriminated against through being labeled as hysterical. Even people who affirm that trans men are men may subconsciously hold these views about women, as well as people who were AFAB, and can reinforce this form of misogyny.

These comments, stating that trans men are mentally unwell and unstable, are using misogynistic ideas against trans men. In addition, people with BPD (which is often treated with mood stabilizers) in particular face misogynistic treatment from both mental health professionals and society in general. (You can read more about this here and here)

(Bonus: Ableism. These comments are also cruel to people with already stigmatized mental health conditions like BPD or bipolar disorder. And ableism often goes along with transandrophobia; for example, the panic over "confused autistic girls identifying as men.")

Anti-masculinity

The basis for both of these comments, as well as the other comments in the post this was taken from, is the hatred of men- including, and especially, trans men. Both testosterone and manhood itself are demonized in these comments, as though being a man (on T) is a problem that, if "untreated" by mood stabilizers, will make trans men dangerous, abusive, and misogynistic.

Not only do these commenters hate men, they have a particular hatred for trans men. After all, the comments don't say "men without mood stabilizers should be illegal," it specifies trans men. It doesn't say "Anyone with a testosterone dominant endocrine system, please go on mood stabilizers," (or to be less transmisogynistic, "any man with a testosterone dominant endocrine system, please go on mood stabilizers").

These people believe that all men are bad, but trans men are even worse. They believe that a trans man on T is more dangerous than a cis man with naturally high testosterone levels. The hatred of men affects all men, yes, but disproportionately affects marginalized men.

Transandrophobia

These statements aren't just transphobic ("trans people, please go on mood stabilizers once you go on HRT"). These statements aren't just misogynistic ("AFABs without mood stabilizers should be illegal"). They aren't just anti-masculine, as they hate trans men more than cis men. These statements are a specific and unique combination of transphobia, misogyny, and anti-masculinity: That is to say, transandrophobia.

Obviously, these issues exist on a much larger scale than a couple of people being assholes on tiktok, and have very real, severe effects on trans men & mascs. But these comments were a good, clear example of the different aspects of transandrophobia and how they intersect.

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐎𝐑 .

# with trafalgar law.

your captain was nothing if not thorough — and as talented doctor, he offered quite a luscious method to help with your cramps.

⎰ & KINKTOBER. smut (mdni!). period sex. bloodplay. fingering (reader!receiving). blood!tasting (menstrual blood, yes). afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

trafalgar law was a doctor — sadistic, yes; self-taught, of course; but one regardless. his mind was attuned to his crew’s health properties, from allergies, to those who had a lower immunity system; from the divergent blood types to medical-related phobias. bepo hated oral medicine with overly sweet tastes; jean bart, although sizable, could not stand needles. and you had a set of quite awful cramps, enough to leave you bedridden until the week’s ending. it was, without an ounce of doubt, your most prominent issue — the one who bought him the greater worry. it left him wary enough then, yet said coddling had a gradual increase once he engaged in a relationship with you.

law had the interval of your period scheduled; committed to memory. pain medicines were reserved with the purpose of aiding you; thermal bags were both heated and freezed beforehand. he researched herbs with soothing properties and went as far — a proof of his love, he would add — as inquiring the straw-hats’ cook on teas that could, somehow, offer some respite. law had tried on a dozen sets of solutions, which one to no avail, for your ache lingered regardless of the chosen method. it left him with an ever-present bitter taste at the tip of his tongue, as the man was unused to said hopelessness, all but forced to sit back and witness your pain without a decent manner with which to soothe it.

you were not present for breakfast that morning, whereas bepo had a sheet with your shifts and duties, dividing them with shachi. for your pain was too sharp, you were granted a week-worth of rest, unallowed to lift a weight heavier than a plume. ikkaku had then entered the shared kitchen, holding an emptied cup — whose previous contents he presumed to be water — and discarding a plastic, pill bottle of a potent medicine he had prepared, a week prior. ikkaku informed him that you were resting — a bit nauseous, as expected, yet nothing quite worrisome — and though the woman had not read underneath the lines of what you stated, law understood it well enough. you were discarding his lingering aid, willing to withstand the cramps without him, for law grew twice as frustrated every month, and you had noted.

he left the kitchen right thereafter, his mood souring. it was ridiculous; unfathomable. law was a doctor — a surgeon — who had healed life-threatening diseases and wounds, yet failed to soothe the merest cramps; to offer comfort to the one he loved the most. he clicked his tongue, rummaging through the books in his office, convinced that he was but missing something, prideful enough to refuse the perspective of succumbing to a thing such as morphine.

nerves. brain chemicals. it should not have taken him that long to figure that out, but it did — and he was fuming. orgasms increased the blood flow; released endorphins; decreased the levels of cortisol. how could have he forgotten that? law clicked his tongue regardless, filled with clear annoyance at himself as he strived for your shared bedroom with ikkaku, delighted, at last, at the fact neither of you would be bothered, for the crew, too, was well-aware of the intensity of your pain.

he knocked — once, twice. not an answer was received, yet law entered regardless, eyes getting used to the overall darkness of the room, granting him the sight of your figure underneath the bed sheets. he approached you, placing a hand on your forehead; relieved to know you were far from feverish. your knees were pressed to your chest, and he could see slight eye-bags, pointing to a clear lack of sleep due to the pain. you were dozing off, unaware of your surroundings, set for a nap. he felt a pang of guilt as his arms removed you from your solace, holding you bridal-style, the activation of his powers leading you both to his own bedroom.

“law?” you inquired, nuzzling closer, a bit confused at the sudden shift. your voice was rough — pained —, and he caught himself filled with the urge to protect you, yet again.

“did i wake you?” he murmured, landing you on the mattress with certain tenderness.

“no,” you lied, ever more comfortable at the press of the sheets under your sore body.

law hummed, not believing a thing, yet not willing to pester you either. instead, he placed a set of pillows under your hips, caressing your cheek with calculated gentleness.

“i figured something that might help,” law whispered, allowing his hand to travel down your neck.

“i took some pills a while ago,” you meekly pointed out, sighing in relief as his fingers brushed against your collarbone. “and that infusion you made me drink tasted like shit. no offense.”

“none taken,” he reassured, licking his lips as his eyes swallowed the sight of you. “it’s a more pleasant one, if you’re willing.”

you stared at him through a half-opened eye, intrigued despite the context. you wore a thin, silken nightgown, the straps slipping past your shoulders, not much left for the imagination. it gave him a glimpse of your curves; your breasts; the underline of your underwear. law spared a mere glance at his sheets, deciding the incessant brushing of the blood stains right thereafter would be far worth it, so long as he could claim you. his hand hovered over your covered intimacy, applying a natural pressure, however neither forceful nor demanding.

“if you’re willing”, law repeated, and you licked your lips, wincing ever-so-slightly at a sudden, sharp pang. he could see the mental effort required for the production of words, soothing your unspoken worries with a caress of his thumb. law was a doctor; blood did not phase him, rather brought forward certain excitement. he all but wished for you to understand that. “i’m willing.”

“are you sure?” you croaked out, pain so sharp you could barely keep your eyes open.

“let me take care of you,” he pleaded, with half the mind to be ashamed of the desperation in his own tone.

you offered him a curt nod of agreement; limp frame conceding to his guiding touch. law raised the nightgown past your arms, throwing it somewhere in the room. with his knees sunk on the mattress, frame towering over your laid one, he began removing your underwear, shuddering with anticipation at the sight of blood staining your pad. he hummed, regretting the eagerness that led to a lack of proper preparation, for he had neither towels nor medical gloves to contain the flow of your period. yet, his mind could not help but point out a singular thought — did he care enough about the mess to be bothered, when you were in such dire need for relief? indeed, he didn’t.

with particular attention, he discarded the underwear and panties on the ground, allowing your hips to be supported by the pillows, without a single preoccupation regarding the possible blood stains. instead, lithe fingers trailed down towards your intimacy, a pair traveling through your folds; testing the waters. law leaned forward in order to have a proper glimpse of your expressions, yet failing not to have his eyes wander to your hardening nipples. he hummed, index meeting your clit as he drew circular, slow movements on it.

the texture of menstrual blood did not seem so far off that of your pre-cum. perhaps thicker, a bit warmer, with the biggest divergence being the color; nothing else. as a digit busied itself with your swollen bud, law teased your entrance with his pinky, grunting as a clot of blood brushed against the touch.

“talk to me, baby,” he rasped out, eyes tethered to your face as his thumb increased the pace of its ministrations on your clit.

you breathed out meekly, fingers gripping the sheets, nose scrunched as you grew accustomed to the stimulation. the blood made the sliding of his thumb faster; erratic. the lascivious sound of your aroused cunt filling the room. law felt his mouth grow dry at the sight, diving into one of your breasts, swirling, warm tongue on the hardened nipple being the solution he found in order not to lap at your blood instead. your back arched, a drawn-out mewl escaping past your opened lips as he ceased the teasing of your clit, wrist angled in a way that had his index and middle finger sliding inside your entrance with extreme ease.

“faster,” you pleaded, a bit of strength returning to your voice.

law thrusted his fingers, knuckle deep, attempting to reach the deepest inches of your walls. the natural shade of his skin returned mingled with red, the tattooed E and A but a mere memory of black underneath the crimson curtain. it was stickier than the river-stream texture of one’s blood, a stubborn line connecting the middle of his fingers, breaking apart only when they were shoved inside yet again, scissoring your walls with regained fervor. he spared a glance towards your growing blissful expression, grunting at the flutter of ideas that wrapped themselves around his mind, failing to ignore the possibilities as his own blood flushed to his hardening cock.

it smeared the fabric of the pillowcase and trailed down his palm, and law spared a brief ounce of attention to the other, neglected breast, using his free fingers to pinch at your nipple before his lips detached themselves from your chest with a single ‘pop’. he adored your tits — really, could not phantom a week without his mouth sucking bruises on it — but on that particular moment, law wanted to observe the in-and-out of his fingers inside your cunt, to commit the blood-coated digits to memory. the tip of his index abused your g-spot and he all but licked his lips, starved for a taste.

your moans were but an angel’s choir, and law had to fight the urge to let a pathetic whimper of his own escape past his lips, for he was, at last, helping you; being the one to demolish the source of your pain. yet, despite his own previous delay, he could not help but to be a little egotistical, lust clouding his scarce selflessness.

“is it better?” he questioned, and you nodded meekly, eyes dazed; pupils blown.

“y-yes,” you stuttered. “don’t stop, please.”

and though his legs began to ache and his cock ached amidst the coffins of his underwear and jeans, law increased the tempo of his thrusts, adding a third finger at the assurance that your walls were parted enough. you bit the back of your hand, swiftly muffling a shout. law groaned, using the thumb of his other hand to draw circles on your clit, marveling at the speed with which blood invaded the inside of his nail; smeared the poor digit.

“i’m close, baby,” you warned, without a need per say, for he noted the approach of your orgasm through the manner with which you clenched around him; impossibly tighter.

“let go for me,” he encouraged, retreating his fingers to the point of his nails before thrusting them yet again, knuckles bloodied; palm sticky.

your entire figure trembled, legs desperate; back jumping from the mattress. his glance was enraptured by the sight of your cum, white mingled with red, an ever-crescent battle whose stage was the pillow underneath, growing wet and dark at the onslaught of your essences. law removed his fingers, raising them to the light, obsessed with the strings intertwined around them; the state of his nails; the memories of parted clots staining the digits. he was but hypnotized, ignoring the confused calling of his name, the ever-so-grateful words you poured into his ears. instead, law began to drag his bloodied fingers on the flesh of your bare stomach, pupils blown with lust as the shade of you, too, grew smeared.

law wiped his fingers clean, and was swift to insert two of them inside your sensitive entrance. your body the canvas, whereas your cunt was the pallet, sheltering the red dye that would grant him the creation of a masterpiece — one he strived to ruin, for law was far from an accomplished, patient painter. he continued with the drag of his fingers on your flesh, from your ribs to your hip-bones; from your breasts to the spot under your navel. at every brief thrust of his fingers, teasing of your folds, you sucked in a harsh breath, your entire body reacting to the somewhat overstimulation.

when law could not hold himself back any longer — the famished beast gnawing underneath his ribcage — he dived in, tongue wiping the mess he had made. law left long stripes of saliva in its wake at every lick, his mouth sucking newer bruises on certain inches of flesh. the taste was not as metallic as he had expected, not as strong, either. it had a lingering bit of salt amidst the iron, for it was mingled with your cum, and both made for a thicker, stretchier combination on his tongue, an unique texture he had never tasted before. law spared particular attention to your breasts, hungrily lapping at it; collecting every last drop of lingering blood.

he distracted you from the fact that his pants and underwear had slid off from their previous position; that his leaking cock had slapped his stomach before he guided the tip to your abused entrance. when law pushed an inch inside, your eyes widened, hands wrapping around his neck out of instinct.

“can i?” he inquired, pressing his palms against the mattress, one at each side of your head.

“yes,” you breathed out. “please, baby.”

law was careful, a languid shove of his hips stretching your walls until he bottomed out, grunting with his eyes closed. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing into your mouth as he began to move — thrusts with a wild tempo, the incessant chase for his own orgasm. a crown of blood wrapped itself around his tip, his entire girth a shade of bright red; pale pink. law hid his face in the crook of your neck, moaning as your hands slipped under this shirt, nails dragging on the bare skin of his back.

he brushed against your g-spot; thrusted himself deep enough to challenge your cervix. you moaned, pain long-forgotten as his tip all but drooled inside your walls, spreading them open without an ounce of mercy. law’s knees buckled; you began to squeeze his girth as though a ruthless, famished beast, so tight he would not be able to slide as freely, was it not for the present blood.

“cum for me again,” law encouraged, meeting your glance, his voice raw and desperate. “let me—ngh—take your pain, baby. c’mon.”

you whimpered, a broken, mute moan preceding the second tide of your orgasm after a particular harsh set of his thrusts. your expression, contorted in pleasure, had him removing his cock swiftly, pumping it twice before shooting his load on your stomach, mouth agape at the blood that surrounded his shaft; stained his palm. law struggled to collect his breath, shifting in order to sit on the mattress and offer his knees a well-deserved rest, one of his hands meeting your own as he intertwined your fingers together.

after prolonged, tired minutes spent in comfort within the walls of a bedroom that reeked of sex, sweat and blood, your voice echoed.

“i liked this method,” you whispered, and he angled his head to get a glimpse of your face.

“yeah, me too.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : damn this writer’s block got hands!!!! jokes aside, i love freaky law!!!! send more freaky law requests i’m going to get thru this writer’s block 👏 by writing more 👏.

[genderqueerdykes]

im not sorry the truth of the transmasculine experience is ugly. i'm not sorry that we have to frequently discuss sexual and physical violence and abuse. i'm not sorry that we have to discuss violent physical abuse and death. i'm not sorry that we have to discuss homelessness, mental illness, addiction, disabilities, and other challenges in life.

we struggle. we do not instantly gain male privilege the second we come out. even if we pass. when someone knows we're trans we're treated like a woman no matter what. we can sometimes get lucky and pass with strangers but eventually people around us find out because people tell each other without our consent.

we face all kinds of abuse due to the fact that people feel entitlement to our bodies, regardless of what our AGAB is. they feel entitled to our faces, our hair, our entire appearance. they focus on the face that we're ruining something "pretty". they threaten corrective sexual violence to remind us that we're "just women". it happens constantly. this is not an isolated incident and virtually nobody wants people to talk about it when it comes to transmasculine people.

trans men often get injured for one reason or another. usually because someone wants to make them "prove" they're a man, to "toughen them up" or to "prove to them that they're a woman". sometimes this results in sexual assault. other times it results in physical assault. and sometimes people just kill trans men. all because they hate that a "woman" can transition into a man.

it's an ugly part of our reality but it needs to be discussed because otherwise people use the lack of that conversation as ammunition to say transmascs don't struggle.

transmasculine people struggle to stay housed. transmasculine people get kicked out of their living situations very often for many reasons. it's hard for transmascs to get jobs because often times people want either a man or a woman for a specific position and fuss over what they think the transmasc's gender is. misgendering is a huge issue at work. going stealth at work can be painful. being in the closet at work can be painful

transmascs are often disabled and struggle to get care due to people not taking AFAB patients' pain and symptoms seriously. this is a huge issue with any kind of AFAB person or any woman. all woman and AFAB people struggle with having their symptoms taken seriously when seeking serious medical attention to the point of possibly being undiagnosed for life, thus being unable to get on disability. trans women face this just as much as AFAB cis women, it's a huge issue in the medical industry

transmasculine people struggle to say on their hormones (or access them at all). testosterone is a controlled substance in many countries which means that you need a prior authorization to get the medication and need to consistently see a provider to get blood tests and check ups. it can be difficult to do so if you are low income and sometimes certain pharmacists will intentionally find ways to withhold hormones due to their own prejudices

transmasculine people struggle to get pregnancy support and care. it is very difficult for transmasculine people to figure out how to navigate their pregnancy, either due to their HRT provider not knowing much about pregnancy, or having a gynecologist who's not familiar with transmasculine health.

transmascs get denied from spaces made for men constantly. even if they pass, if word gets around that they're trans they can easily be kicked out of a space. transmasculine lesbians are often removed from lesbian, transmasc and/or non binary spaces. transmasc butches are often ostracized from all communities their identities correlate to. trans men and transmasc enbies are seen as a threat to women.

there is ugliness in every pocket of the queer community when it comes to how cisheteronormative society treats us. we all face disgusting treatment that needs to be addressed. it's important to consider how this system affects everyone underneath it. we need to talk about the positive things, it's good to help those are questioning, but we also must discuss what struggles we face in order to humanize ourselves and show that we people, too. none of us have it easy.