#being a gender is suffering

[earlgraytay]

Hey, PSA for younger/newer transmascs:

Tumblr has been showing targeted ads for "FTM binders" off Amazon. They look like this:

Do not buy these.

A binder is a piece of medical equipment. If you use one incorrectly, or use a poorly made one, you can really fuck up your ribs. This article from the Cleveland Clinic talks about how to bind safely.

A $14 binder is guaranteed not to be safe. There's a reason reputable companies charge more- sometimes a lot more. They have to carefully design binders so they don't crush your ribs or make you sick.

You know how everyone says Don't Bind With Duct Tape? Don't bind with Amazon binders.

[hpmort]

Back before my egg had hatched, I used to put no effort into my appearance- I always wore a t-shirt and a skort, and rarely showered or washed my hair or really did any hygiene things, and everyone complimented me on my outfit or appearance.

I didn’t do anything for my hair but got complimented on it for some reasons. Maybe large breasts give you a weird halo effect where even people who are not being creeps feel obligated to compliment you, I don’t know. I was never catcalled except for once and it was more a novel experience than anything else? I honestly feel better now that no one compliments me, because I know that they’re not making things up or anything?

I absolutely put more effort into my appearance now and get less compliments, though in my case, that’s a honestly positive experience

I feel like it’s still a data point, though. Any other trans people want to weigh in?

I just know that the dudes who make those "girls get 500 compliments a day vs. guy gets one compliment once and cherishes it for the rest of his life" memes put zero effort into their appearance. Like what exactly do you expect people to say? Wow nice plain ill-fitting hoodie, goes great with your basic-ass blue jeans and nondescript haircut. Got some real cool Grey Man vibes going on, you could seamlessly blend into any crowd ever without being seen at all.

Like nobody has any obligation to look any certain way, but you can't expect to be praised for doing something you're not even trying to do. I dress like I got tarred and feathered in a Tim Burton film costume department discard scrap pile, and someone saying they like my style is a biweekly occurrence.

[giyyu]

topless gojo at what cost… I SAID AT WHAT COST?!!!!

[sergle]

When I talk about something bad I've experienced, Baked In to my experience as A Woman, I am not "making my little cousins feel like shit for being women", because I am talking in a space with, allegedly, adults. I am not bringing my problems to children in the first place. That said, I don't HAVE to make my baby cousin feel bad, because she's already experienced sexual harassment in her life, and she's only 8, and doesn't even understand what any of it means yet. And everyone in her family can try to instill confidence in her, and never talk about our bodies in a negative way. But she can still feel like she's too chubby, because she still goes to school, and talks to other kids and their parents, and still sees ads, and still watches tv. We can be positive, but we can't fix the root of the problem. And I don't HAVE to tell trans women that "pain is a rite of passage", because that's not a Rule being enforced (by me), because I've already sat and listened to my friend complain about constantly shaving as a Baseline necessity and how it hurts her skin and she has to put makeup onto fresh cuts on her face because going out without a full face of properly feminine makeup would make her life worse, and being anything less than thin and lithe makes her "less feminine", and ALL the things that can make her "more feminine" are behind a paywall. And I can try to make her feel better, and I can hear her experiencing the tenfold version of problems I relate to, but I can't fix the root cause of her problems by just telling her not to complain. Forcing happiness as a core personality trait for women is not the Girlboss Feminist move that you think it is, and no amount of gender euphoria in the world will make you immune to systemic oppression.

[earlgraytay]

Gender X does mean nonbinary- it's specifically the Japanese term for it.

Sorry sjws t here’s only 4 genders

[spitblaze]

id love to say that my transition was easy and painless and respectful the whole way through but the pressure to not be nonbinary and to be a man, or just be a man nonbinary, was and continues to be so goddamn annoying. hey are you sure you still wanna use they them pronouns or do you want to use he/him full time. are you sure? are you absolutely sure. are you positive you're not a man. your place in the social hierarchy is that of a man[citation needed]. you present masc and take t and got top surgery you might as well just identify as a man. you're a man and men act like this and walk like this and talk like this and arent allowed to do this and are DEFINITELY not allowed to join these conversations. man man man man man. it got to the point where it broke me down. I was saying 'I'm a trans man' and could not identify why it was making me miserable. Surprise, it was making me miserable because I was fucking misgendering myself. I'm aware that my presentation means I have to move through the world differently than I did before, I get that and I appreciate it and I try my best to be conscientious of it. But I resent the implication that this somehow means I have to 'take a side'. are you a boy nonbinary or a girl nonbinary. are you afab or amab. you're afab, arent you? afabs have to do this and afabs think this and walk like this and talk like this. im not misgendering you thats just what you are you're an afab afab afab afab afab afabafabafavabasdfabagfdfab.

I'm not sure what it means when I feel like my doctors were more understanding of my desire to identify neutrally despite my appearance and agab than 'the queerest place on the internet' but im sure its nothing

[earlgraytay]

Not a euro, but in my neck of the woods, the long shorts are a weird machismo thing.

See, where I'm from- the Midwestern USA- for teenagers and young men, it is a Badge of Honour and Pride to be able to get through the winter without having to put on a coat or long pants. A lot of guys take a really strange amount of offense at the idea that you might possibly wear anything but a hoodie and shorts year round.

But because of this, shorts need to be able to carry you from March to November minimum, in a climate where it regularly gets under 30 degrees. So you've got the 7"-9" inseams, if not longer, and some thick fucking fabric.

[lazycranberrydoodles]

oooooh you want to read my huaxuan hookup fic sooooo bad

bonus :P

[earlgraytay]

Chest binding is a form of body modification.

Like all forms of body modification, it comes with its risks and drawbacks. That does not make binding bad-- but it means you need to be informed about what is and is not safe.

I've gotten a couple of people on my 'don't buy Amazon binders' PSA trying to claim that warning people about the risks of binding is transandrophobic TERF fearmongering. And it's true that TERFs will often overstate the risks of binding to make younger/newer trans guys afraid to try it. But here's the thing.

Binding your chest is like dyeing your hair, or getting a tattoo, or gauging your ears. It's a process that modifies your body for cosmetic and psychological benefits. There are 'right' and 'wrong' ways to do it-- and generally, the 'wrong' ways to do it are the ways that can cause you serious injury.

If you dye your hair with a box kit, it can damage your hair- possibly permanently. You can wind up with hair that's the wrong colour (say, green instead of blonde), you can wind up with frizzy or thin hair, or you can wind up with a permanent bald spot. If you get a tattoo from your friend Steve on his kitchen table with a sewing needle, you can get a tattoo that doesn't look like it should (because of bad ink or technique), you can get permanently scarred, and it can even theoretically kill you from blood poisoning.

These are the 'cheap' ways to get a body mod, and some people still do them. For some people, they even turn out okay! But you are taking a risk when you dye your hair with box colour or when you get a tattoo from your friend Steve. It might be a small risk; it might be a big risk. The people warning you about these things aren't trying to tell you that you should never dye your hair or get tattoos- most of these folks are heavily dyed and pierced, and many of them have made these mistakes! But they're trying to tell you to get body mods in a way that minimizes risk.

Similarly, the people warning you about chest binding being dangerous are generally older transmascs who have messed up with binding in the past. If we tell you, "don't bind with ace bandages" or "don't buy amazon binders" or "don't bind for more than eight hours at a stretch", it's not because we want you to stop binding! It's because we've made these mistakes with binding, or we've seen our friends suffer from the consequences of these mistakes.

Just like your tattoo friends don't want you to die of Steve-induced blood poisoning, your transmasc friends don't want you to break ribs or start getting asthma attacks. You are free to listen, or not-- but we just want you to know what the risks are so you can choose how to live your life.

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Robin never really got boys talk.

When Sarah turned 14 she invited all the girls in band for a sleepover. It started out fun. After her parents went to bed they put on a creepy horror movie and watched it in a huge cuddle pile. They braided each other's hair and did each other's nails and squeezed each other during tense scenes and muffled their shrieks after a sudden jumpscare.

After that they watched another one. This time Sarah sneaked her mother's makeup kit down to the living room, and so lipstick and eyeshadow joined the mess of nail polish, hair clips and snacks already on the floor.

The second movie was different. In the first one, the blood was obviously fake and the acting wasn't the best (to say the least). But the second one was tense through and through. The cries of pain were so visceral that Robin shuddered, and in the end everyone was terrified. It was silently and unanimously agreed upon that everyone had had enough TV for the night. It was already 3 in the morning, but tomorrow was the weekend and right now Robin wouldn't be able to sleep even if she wanted to, and thus began Robin's first real boys talk.

It was funny at first. Sarah pretended to die of heartbreak when "the blond hot one" was unfortunately the second to die. Heather said the nerdy one with glasses and abs was cuter, which started a very heated discussion of whether blond or brown is the more attractive hair color. Robin had to defend her correct "redheads" opinion all by herself.

(When the others got into a stalemate Sarah turned to Robin. "C'mon", she pleaded, "you know that the blond one was hotter. Just tell us which one you found prettier! And don't forget that this is my birthday party."

Robin laughed at the ribbing, played a bit hard to get, until she finally admitted. "I actually found the first one who died the prettiest." Sarah was already halfway through her victory dance, when Robin corrected her. "No, I don't mean the dude. I mean the first one. The girl with the pink purse."

Everything was silent for a moment.

Then Emma laughed. "You don't have to be jealous Robin", she consoled, "you are also very pretty."

"Yeah, especially after our makeover!"

Robin laughed and agreed and continued on as if her world just hadn't been turned on its axis. Because she knew that the stirring in her gut and the beating of her heart had nothing to do with jealousy. She didn't find the blond one hot or the brunet one cute. That was the first time she really knew it. She liked the girl.)

It was a bit funny the first time, even though she couldn't really join. It got less funny the more it went on. Suddenly boys was the only thing everyone wanted to talk about. And worse: it wasn't just unreachable famous boys like singers or actors anymore. Suddenly it was all "oh, Steve Harrington is sooooo cute" or "oh my god, Tommy Hagan had suuuuuuch a glowup" and "I want to lick the sweat of his body after basketball practice" (this last one was applicable to multiple different people, including Steve and Tommy. It was not applicable for Chrissy when she exited cheerleading practice or Beth after football.)

She thought it would get better when Emma finally confessed to her crush and they actually got together, but no. It somehow got worse. Because "normal boy talk" turned into "experienced boy talk", and Robin wasn't allowed to admit that the only thing that got wet when she thought of Billy Hargrove was her mouth, because he made her want to throw up.

At first she'd say that she didn't have crushes. After a while of people refusing to believe her (even if she was telling the truth! Sometimes.) she started pretending to be into Steve Harrington. Every girl had a crush on Steve, so it made sense that she'd been embarrassed to admit that she was just like everybody else. He was way too far above her league for her friends to force her to "confess" and she could stare without fear when he passed by in the halls with the beautiful Tammy Thompson in his arms. Truly, it was a brilliant plan. It didn't stop the boys talk, though.

So she became a tomboy. She joined football and she hung out with boys and she cut her long hair into a bob. She lost a bit of touch with Emma and Sarah and the others, but she tried not to think about it too much. Instead she threw herself into sports and started hanging out more and more with Matt, the second trumpet in band.

And that was that. Sometimes she missed wearing dresses, but it was a relief not to have her mother insisting she "do something about that hair" anymore. She and Matt became best friends. She even considered telling him for a while. Until he sat her down and confessed his feelings.

She tried to let him down as gently as possible, and they never talked again. The cycle would repeat for multiple times.

Someone out there is laughing their ass off because who would have thought that the dude she pretended to have a crush on would turn out to be the missing half of her soul?

It started out like always. She teased him, he laughed. They suffered through customer service together. He was funny and surprisingly in touch with his emotions and apparently babysat a bunch of middle schoolers, which was equally hilarious and adorable to watch. They both enjoy sports and they both hate Billy Hargrove with a passion and Robin is heartbroken because she knows she can't get attached. She has already been through this too many times to allow it to happen again. She gets close with a guy, they become best friends, he confesses, she can't reciprocate, they never talk again.

This is what is going to happen. She should already be used to it, but it still hurts. It's better for her to keep her distance. To encourage him to flirt with other girls, even if she can see that he mostly does it to amuse her.

And then they uncover an actual real life Russian spy network right beneath their place of work like some fucking blockbuster. And then they are pumped up with drugs and the next thing she knows is that they are both throwing up in a cinema bathroom.

And then it happens. Of course it happens.

He starts his little speech and her heart is already breaking. She surprises herself when she realizes how much she started enjoying Steve's company. He is a dingus, but she is also a dingus and they just fit.

She is already preparing her apology in her head (oh fuck work is going to be so awkward), but what comes out instead is what she wishes she could've said every time this happened. What she wished she could have said every time she got close to another person, every time her parents questioned if she finally found a boyfriend. Something she really tried not to feel ashamed of, but it was so fucking hard when you had to keep it hidden all the time.

(She remembers when she used to train in front of the mirror. She would stare at herself and repeat again and again "I am Robin Buckley and I am a lesbian. I am a lesbian. I am-")

She doesn't breathe as she waits for what she knows what comes next. What has to come next. There is a reason she never told anyone, always kept it hidden and to herself even if she wanted to scream it into the world. He will mock her and he will out her and he will be disgusted and-

"Tammy Thompson?!"

Instead they have girls talk. And Robin finally gets it.

[fading4ngel]

i need to inject silverv into my veins desperately.

[hannibal-is-my-comfort-show]

[terresdebrume]

I keep going back and forth on the topic of where I fall on the allo/aro spectrum, partially because I kind of like. Don't wanna be aro (I'm already trans, queer and autistic with depressive tendencies, I don't need to add another thing to the list)

But another part of it is that even if I am capable of romantic love I probably just wouldn't know, because I already don't really know what platonic love feels like? And I'm not saying I can't love anything or anything like that it's just. Like many other emotions, I kind of have to retroingeneer it, sort of

I know I love my cats, not because I feel a surge of Something when I look at them, but because it makes me smile when they do something cute—my face knows what I'm feeling in those moments, I'm not sure I do. I know I love them because when Pouet died I cried every day for a month and I still cry sometimes, when I think about her. I know I love my cats because my brain keeps lighting up with fear signals when they're sleeping and I don't immediately see their chest move as they breathe.

I know what anxiety feels like, I know what anger feels like (when it explodes), I know what depression feels like because I dealt with them for so long I learned to recognize their physical symptoms! If these emotions didn't leave specific signals in my body then I'm not sure I'd know what they are.

And the thing is... I don't really like. Know what love or affection feels like, I think. Yes I can feel myself smile when I speak to certain people, but I also habitually smile at everybody because it makes things easier socially. I know I like people because if they ask me if I want to do an activity I either say yes or I have regrets about saying no.

My point is: I feel like I don't know my emotions so much as I know the buttons they push in my body, so to speak, but the problem about platonic/romantic love is that I can't imagine they make that different a shame, so who's to say which one it is?

It's funny, in a way, that I don't know something like that at my age. It's also really inconvenient, tbh. There's not really a reason for me to think about this rn except sometimes if I meet a cool dude whom I know is gay I wonder for a minute or two what a relationship with him would be like (which I'm going to assume is not that weird a thing to do) and the last time that happened led to, well. Ponderings about romance I guess

Anyway, the tl;Dr is that it took me decades to figure out the emotions I can recognize now, and I've largely approached social interactions with the inner spirit of a wet Chihuahua for most of that time, so how the fuck do I know if I can't identify those because I'm shit at self understanding or because I don't feel them???

Idk, it's complicated

(Tho honestly it would also be a little bit hilarious if after all this shit I landed on nah just aro. Not my preferred option right now but eh xD)

[confused-disaster32]

Fred Hechinger characters have so much gender and I wish to acquire it

[eternitycongregation]

YOU. YOU'RE THE TRANSFEM INTERSEX RATIO PERSON. I LOVE YOU.

:o!! It's me indeed, hello!!!

I'm glad you like the headcanon, she's everything to me tbh. You can safely assume any time I talk about Ratio that this conception of her is in my mind.

ramblings under the cut (CW: vague mentions of intersexism and transmisogyny)

About her being intersex, I usually have two sets of headcanons: one where she has nCAH and the other hyperandrogenic PCOS. Part of why I have this headcanon is projection ofc; but it's also because I like the idea of Ratio in her goal to cure the disease of ignorance, she desires to destroy the false concept of the sex binary. It makes the goal very personal to her, being affected by intersexism, in addition to the altruism.

I think Ratio struggled a lot in her transition journey, because she felt like she had to give up a lot of the things she liked about her body and herself and had to conform to beauty standards she didn't like in her attempts to achieve the Ideal Woman status. I think she used to do extensive voice training, wear full beat makeup, and tried to avoid putting on muscle to give the thin and dainty vibe. Even though she likes her deep voice, a full face is a sensory nightmare for her, and trying to keep her body mass down was unhealthy for her...that's what she thought she needed to do. Her oddly British accent (odd for a character Greek and Roman inspired) is from imitating women she thought of as elegant and refined. She used to wear pumps in her classroom and offices even though she hated how they hurt her feet, because that's what other women wear to work.

And I imagine the Ratio we have in the present is one who is secure in her gender identity that she does not feel the need to overperform femininity. She knows that she does need to be accepted by others to know her own worth. Her body is toned and built, she speaks with a deep voice, wears clothes that are comfortable for her (cutouts for ventilation and a nice pair of sandals), puts on red eyeliner and calls it a look. And you can tell she loves it because of all those statues lmao.

[o4o41]

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