#part of my story

[duffsmckagan]

Part of my Gnr/Metallica short story

[becoming-who-ive-always-been]

The most disappointing birthday present I think I ever received was for my sixteenth birthday.

I wasn't expecting a car (like a lot of my friends got) - in fact, I'm not quite sure just what I was expecting - books perhaps, record albums, maybe a model airplane.

But when I unwrapped a shaving mug and brush, "safety" razor, and bottle of Old Spice my heart sank - though the way I'd been raised, I had to at least appear thankful.

I didn't have much facial hair - peach fuzz is what we called it back then - and remember the discomfort and, well, embarrassment, during the subsequent shaving lesson (with my younger brother as audience)... the awkwardness of it all, let alone this almost literal face-slap reminder that I was seen and known as a son - a boy - a boy on his way to manhood.

I tended to leave the kit on the counter in the bathroom I shared with my brother, not really feeling like I needed to shave very often. Then it occurred to me that this wasn't a completely bad set of circumstances... and this is when I started what today would be called my "social transitioning" - by using it to shave my legs and underarms as well as the "beard" that didn't ever really make itself known...

As I've stated before, I didn't have a lot of "guy" body hair, and by this time I was able to conceal some of what I was doing - which was pretty handy since I was still learning how to keep from cutting myself anyway... and I was able to keep the "one of the boys" facade somewhat, disingenuously I guess, in place.

Since I never went around bare-chested - partly because I was self-conscious of my puberty-boy-boobs (which I so wanted to develop into the girl breasts I envied my girl friends having), but also, because like them, girls just didn't do that... so shaving my underarms was "easy" to do without being noticed and thereby causing a fuss...

Similarly, especially during the school year, I learned how to shave my legs, wearing long pants to school and throughout the cooler months of late fall through early spring... and nobody really noticed or said anything... which was a mixed blessing, I s'pose, because I didn't know how to explain this made me feel more like myself, like "one of the girls," all the while starting me on the road to becoming who I've always been...

...has many parts, and this is just one of them...

[becoming-who-ive-always-been]

Back in grade, middle, and high school I used to envy the girls in my classes for how they "got" to dress... Scouting was as close as I could get to knee-socks (until basketball later on)...

I also got "called out" for how I

carried my books (clutched to my chest instead of "off the hip"),

stood (feet straight out or slightly knee-knocking/pigeon-toed, instead of "splay-footed")

stood with my weight on one leg (my "off-knee" slightly bent inward instead of "outward")

crossed my legs (at the knee instead of "ankle-on-the-knee"),

put my hands on my hips (thumbs front - and at the waist - instead of "thumbs-back" - and on my hips),

crossed my arms (hands at my armpits, high, across my "breasts" - or buried in my elbows or clutching my elbows - instead of loosely and low across my belly),

wanted to play "girl games" - hop-scotch and jump-rope instead of "dog-pile" and tackle pick-up football...

...and a number of other things that just came naturally to me, but weren't what should have come naturally to the boy I was assumed to be... and that delayed my becoming who I've always been...

...and there is more to it that just this..

=================

(Photo "courtesy" of @tgirlnextdoor via @kimmipetty)

[puppyeared]

filipina miku!! my mom helped me with her outfit ^_^

[becoming-who-ive-always-been]

I don't have to imagine it... I lived it...

Now, in my mid-'60's, I'm finally living the life I used to imagine...

Imagine that...

More to follow...

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[colorful-horses]

monster high

[becoming-who-ive-always-been]

Even at this age, I knew... I felt it in my bones... despite being called "son" and "brother," I was - and am - their daughter and sister... I allowed them their perceptions and understandings and expectations - because they were (and are) my family... but none of those things changed my heart or traumatized my soul...

...and there's more to follow...

[buggachat]

Part 200 of my bakery “enemies” au!

First / Prev / Next / All

Kofi

[becoming-who-ive-always-been]

Every Valentine's Day I fondly remember finally being able to "act out" my girlhood...

As I've said here (at time or two), my first crush was on my best friend and middle school classmate, Chip, and I struggled with being that close to him in study hall and PE and basketball and not being able to tell him what I was feeling or wanted to do with him...

I found him so cute and attractive and enjoyed his personality and company, but knew, at the same time, given where and when we grew up, there would never be any way to tell him this without things going so far off the rails... This was, after all, mid-70's, rural north Georgia, and anything like this would've been met with hateful, hurtful name-calling - "What are you, queer?" "Oh, a faggot, huh?" "Are you a sissy?" "Homo" - or even worse... plus, there was the fear, given that atmosphere, that I'd lose whatever friendship I had with him as well as run the risk of getting beaten up and shunned...

But this one year, when I was 16, I took "advantage" of the Valentine's "tradition" of anonymous cards, and found one I signed "Guess Who!" and slipped through the air-vents of his locker...

He found it, of course... showed it to me even, asking if I had any idea which girl it was that had left it for him... He had some others from some girls we both knew and that I knew were "sweet" on him - one who he started dating later in the spring (and who I was so jealous of - envious of)...

Was it as satisfying as actually telling him? No, probably - definitely - not... but it was still better than losing what I had with him, as unrequited or unsatisfying as it was...

...and this is one of mine...

[gothamite-rambler]

Flashback: Jason Todd when he discovered one of the trainers the Al Ghul's got for him is a child trafficker (based off a story from the book).

Jason: They ... were just children.

His trainer: Don't be so dramatic it was necessary.

Jason: They were just children ... and you were trafficking them.

His trainer: I did what is necessary-

Jason: THEY WERE JUST CHILDREN AND YOU TRAFFICKED THEM!

-----------------------------------------------------------

Jason: And then I murdered him, in cold blood. It was fun ... I think I felt true euphoria that day. Oh and I let the kids go.

Bruce: ...

Dick (whispering, impressed): Resist the urge to clap.

Tim (horrifed): Holy crap did you have to detail it!

Damian and Stephanie stood up and clap.

Cass (blank expression): Jason?

Jason: Yes?

Cass: I'll allow it.

Jason: Thanks.

Duke: Can somebody pass the cranberry sauce! Also can I go next, I can top Jason's story!

Bruce sighs.

Bruce: This is the weirdest fucking thanksgiving.

Alfred: Talia and Ra are here.

Bruce slammed his head on the table.

Dick: That means 'God... Damn it!'

[zephyrine-gale]

sunday

[3rdsday]

Tommy basically said "the DSMP was good because it was, and still is, loved" and that basically sums up my feelings on the matter too.

[magicicephoenix]

i finally finished reading I see you, Sundrop! by @shirajellyfish and IT'S SO GOOD I CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO FINISH IT RAAAAAAA

i will be gushing about it in the tags but here's a lil animation i made based on the below paragraph in chapter 6 that gave me such a strong mental image that i had to make it real :)

[becoming-who-ive-always-been]

You know, I wish I'd been able to sit with my girl friends and their dad (or even with my dad), like this, watching whatever was on the idiot box...

😊👩🏼‍🤝‍👩🏻

...and there's more to it than just this..

[counting-stars-gayly]

I’m actually LOVING how Rick Riordan, and the other writers of the show, took his initial concept of a Percabeth rivalry fueled by that of their parents and kind of turned it on its head?

Now, instead of Annabeth being wary of Percy because he’s a son of Poseidon, he’s wary of her because she made a callous impression on him. They get off to a rocky start even before finding out who Percy’s father is, and when they finally do, Annabeth doesn’t care. Instead of them fighting because of who their parents are, they’re fighting over their own opposed worldviews.

Then, instead of them arguing over which of the gods is cooler and who was right in the story of Medusa, they realize that, just like Medusa, Annabeth is a victim of her mother and that, unlike Medusa, she is a far kinder and stronger person, unwilling to repeat the cycle of hurt. They realize that, like his father, Percy often acts without considering potential consequences and that, unlike his father, he is a far kinder and stronger person, willing to step up for someone he wronged and whom he cares about.

Instead of Percy and Annabeth’s rivalry being focused on that of their parents, it’s focused on who they are, themselves. But the path to friendship is still the same: a realization that they have each other’s backs, no matter what, because they’re not their parents after all.