#was that one enby kid i met a couple years ago and never got to talk to again

[localvoidcat]

i think a very strange thing to learn was that. its completely normal for parents to be accepting and it shouldnt feel weird when they are

[goldencatchflies]

𝗠𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀

[𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝘼𝙊3]

⊹ 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗖𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 // 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @pretty-b0yy @abitcriminalminds @moreidism @blakes-dictionxry @hotchnerslut @reese-the-edgy-enby

⊹ 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝐷𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑘 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑛/𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑖𝑑

⊹ 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1636

⊹ 𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑘 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑛.

⊹ 𝗔/𝗡: 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑, 𝑜𝑓𝑐, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑚𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠. 𝐴𝑙𝑙 “𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑠” 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑦 𝑚𝑒, 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑔𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡, 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑓 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑡, 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑖 𝑘𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 “𝑀𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑙𝑒” 𝑏𝑦 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 “𝑀𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑟 𝐵𝑎𝑙𝑙” 𝑏𝑦 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙! :) 𝑅𝐵𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐶𝑂𝑀𝑀𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑆 𝐴𝑅𝐸 𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑌 𝐴𝑃𝑃𝑅𝐸𝐶𝐼𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷!!!

They hadn’t talked much lately. Cases were coming in heavy, they didn’t have time just for themselves anymore. Not that Spencer wanted to anyway. Ever since a month ago, the last thing he wanted to do is be in a room alone with Temporary Unit Chief Derek Morgan. And yet here they were. Stuck in a car together, as they drove to a prison 500 miles out of town. Just Spencer and Derek’s stupid perfect body, and his stupidly cute face, and the way he called him-

“Pretty boy!” Ah! there it is! That sweet, voice, drowning out all the dirty thoughts that had ever crossed Spencers mind, replacing it with pure bliss, like walking hand in hand, or kissing in the rain, where it’s just the two of them, fuck everything else around. When their lips met, so sweet, so… blissful. Drowning out how all he wanted was Derek to push him aga-

“Spencer!” The older man snapped Spencer out of his thoughts.

“Uh- yeah?” He stuttered.

“You’re staring, ya know?” He said with a smirk.

“Oh, sorry, I- ahem- I didn’t mean to...” the boy chuckled.

“It’s alright, what were you thinking about?” He looked between Spencer and the road.

Oh if only you knew…

“Well then tell me!” Derek said, making Spencer realize he said it out loud.

“Oh um… I was just thinking, that, um, you know that it’s 73.6% more likely for queer couples in the workplace to have a successful relationship then the “average” heterosexual one, but because people tend to always bottle up those feeling in fear of rejection, so it’s kind of rare, which makes the successful ones even more… special…” he rambled.

“Ok… thanks kinda cute I guess, why were you thinking about it-”

“And did you know that it’s 65% more likely for your male best friend to be in love with you and never tell you then your female best friend. A study last year by the Wisconsin Health Care and Sience Devision proved that men loving men, and women loving women couples occur more often in friendships then—”

“What are you saying, Spencer?” Derek cut him off, furrowing his brows.

“I think you know what I’m saying…” the young doctor whispered under his breath.

“Well, I don’t, so please, enlighten me!” There was an assertive tone to Derek’s words, but Spencer choose to read as confusion instead of disgust and anger.

“I’m saying that…” they boy wonder looked down in shame, and fiddled with his sachet, finding it much more interesting then the conversation at hand.

“Reid, do you… do you like me?” He asked once and for all, and Spencer didn’t say anything for a few moments.

I’m sorry! I don’t mean to, I just do! We’ve been through so much, and sometimes it’s just hard to differentiate the difference between platonic love and romantic love when all I want is to wake up next to you, and hold your hand, and have you right next to me when I wake up from a nightmare. And I know it’s too much to ask, and I know you don’t feel the same, but I just can’t help but feel this way for you, and I’m so so sorry!

You don’t choose who you fall in love with

“I know kid, it’s just…” Derek swallowed, and stayed silent for a while, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’m not like that…”

“I know!” Spencer choked out, trying hold back a sob. “That’s what makes it so much harder. To know you could never feel the same…” he let a tear stream down his face. He lifted his head, gazing out the window, thinking about how this will affect their relationship. And how it wouldn’t had he just stayed quiet. And as he watched the trees pass by, he wondered what it would be like to have Derek Morgan all for himself. But we don’t always get what we want, now do we?

⇽——————⇾

After that things got… better. The constant bickering had shifted to not-so-often bickering, and they’d gotten extremely closer. There was a standing date night every Friday night-or at least every Friday night available. Even when they were too tired to do anything special, like a picnic or a walk in the park, they always found their way to the other’s place sometime during the night. They even slept in the same bed, cuddled, woke up to cute little stares, and made breakfast together. This goes on for so long, Derek forgets the time in his life where they weren’t so domestic. But Spencer can’t forget. And if you were to ask him, he’d tell you that it had been 5 years, 2 months and 17 days since he told Derek about his feelings. Not that it matters anyways...

⇽——————⇾

Spencer placed his lips lightly on Derek’s neck, startling the man awake. He closed his eyes, and played clueless to Derek’s confusion, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t get caught. Derek looked around the plane for a little, before he gave up, giving in to tiredness once more. He shifted in his seat, placing his hand on top of Spencer’s that was hooked around the older agent’s other arm. He leaned his head to the side, ignoring the puffs of air he felt on his neck, from where Spencer’s head was dropped. He placed a kiss to the boy’s forehead before simply leaning his head against Spencer’s, falling asleep moments later.

It was moments like these that always got to Spencer. When he was feeling like the world was collapsing in front of him and there was nothing he can do but watch as his life falls apart before his eyes- it was moments like these that always seemed to snap him out of it. He could think of lighthearted conversations he had with JJ, he could think about talking in different languages, book-talk, with Emily, he could think of messing around with Penelope, and how he let her teach him the ways of the internet. He could think of how sometimes, while admiring from afar- almost like an outsider’s perspective- he realized had found a home within the walls of solving for murder, and how he finally found the closest thing to a stable family he could ever ask for, with the best ‘mom and dad’ he could ever need.

He thought of how selfish it was of him to hope there were cases in self-intoxicating moments like these, so he could just go back to his family, and no longer poke wholes in his apartment walls, the loneliness drowning out every happy thought he could ever have.

But no matter what he thought of, all he ever really needed to think about was the piercing eyes of Derek Morgan. A man so good, that not even a love confession made him want to leave Spencer’s side. Hell, if anything, it brought them closer together! And that’s all he ever needed to think about to be brought back down from the clouds of his own mind. And it was moments like these that always seemed to ground him when he felt the highest. So he did what he had to, and enjoyed the moment as best he could.

With Derek asleep once more, he placed his lips back to his neck, this time it was a little easier, given that the older man had shifted closer to him. He left the lightest, most heartwarming trail of kisses all over Derek’s s neck. He loved how comforting it was, the simple gesture, and his lips being pressed against the older man’s skin was the only thing he ever wanted. He held on to Derek’s arm a little tighter, almost out of fear of losing him.

“Everything alright there, pretty boy?” He hears Derek whisper and freezes. “You’re holding onto my arm like your life depends on it.”

Silence.

“I know you’re awake!” Derek lifts his head and brings his free hand up, fingertips barely under Spencer’s chin, solemnly to make him look back at Derek. And he does so with puppy eyes, looking like he’s begging for mercy at the arms of a monster. But Derek Morgan could never be a monster.

“Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?” Derek asks. He smiles. Puppy eyes still present in his facial expression, but there’s a warmth to it now. He nods slightly, tilting his head forward so that his forehead leaned against Derek’s cheek. He left it there for a few seconds, closing his eyes, smelling the home-like scent of his best friend before he dropped his head sideways onto Derek’s shoulder once more, picking up in the sweet, coffee scented trail he left off. The older man moved the hand that had involuntarily cupped Spencer’s face, and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair instead.

You see, it was in moments like these that felt like nothing could ever come between them. He was head off the heels in love with Derek Morgan, and moments like these fed into the fantasy of Derek being just as in love with him. And even though Spencer knew that that’s all it was- a fantasy- he pushed those thoughts aside for later. Staying here- with Derek- was all he ever truly needed. He would miss the team, and the thrill of the chase, but if something happened, he would be able to live without the rest of them. He could start life anew for all he cared about, as long as there was Derek Morgan by his side, he new everything would always be ok. And he couldn’t dare imagine a world where they had never met. Because you see, it was moments like these, that made all the pain and suffering worth enduring.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Off on a nautical adventure!

We're sailing the Stone Glass Seas, exploring uncharted territory and enjoying the breeze. Rocky and Chrissie are here with some friends to go on a sailing adventure where they happened to run into Gulliver. So they made a stop at the camp and invited us campers to tag along because the more, the merrier!

It feels like forever since Rocky went sailing, which seems surprising since that's his thing. But with him and Lex busy with Talia and now Kessa, sailing has taken kind of a backseat. Of course, Rocky showed us pics of baby Kessa - who is adorable - and Talia, who's walking and talking now. As for Rocky and Lex's wedding, they're aiming for next year - preferably before baby number three comes along, they joke.

Now that Rocky and Lex are out of the newborn stage and have fully adjusted to two babies, they finally have some time to themselves. Chrissie's been helping out a lot as well as serving as sort of a peacemaker between Rocky and their uncle. It's not that they don't get along, it's just that McMann's the old fashioned type so the fact that his bisexual nephew's in a relationship with an enby and they have two kids while unmarried is kinda hard for him to wrap his head around. He does like Lex though and is actively making an effort not to misgender them and such, so at least there's that.

Joining them is Emma with her nieces and nephew. Emma just made the move to Cityburg about a month ago to move in with her brother and his kids. Despite working her ass off for six years in college, Emma was down on her luck, forced to live off her parents. When they told her that they were gonna kick her out, Danny stepped in, which they weren't too happy about. The kids are all for it as Emma's the favorite (and only) aunt and Danny could really use the help.

Margie, Rusty, and Linda like having Emma around and she likes being with them. Danny's a nightclub entertainer at the Cocktail Cabana who occasionally travels so he's not home all the time. Things haven't been easy since his husband and eldest daughter passed away last year, forcing Margie to take over as caretaker as well as housekeeper. While Emma and Margie have always gotten along like sisters, there has been some undercurrents as to who runs things around the house.

When the twins invited Emma to go sailing, she suggested bringing the kids along since Danny will be traveling that week and the kids are off from school. Emma also hopes to work things out with Margie, who she thinks has forgotten how to be a teenager. Now that we've been out on the sea for a couple days, I can see what she means. We all feel bad for Margie as she was forced to grow up quickly and as a result, she also became protective of her family.

Rusty and Linda are up to their own mischievous ways as usual, always keeping Emma and Margie on their toes. Sherry's presence is sorely missed - she was more than just Margie's partner in crime, she was also the ringleader of the Amos-Thomas siblings. A part of me had hoped that Sherry would make a miraculous recovery, but as time went on, all hopes of that diminished.

On a side note, Sherry would've turned sixteen last week - and the month before would've been Terry's birthday. So that's another reason why Emma decided to take the kids along - to give them a distraction so they won't be at each other's throats. And it's definitely been helping, especially for Rusty and Linda, who are having a great time right now. I think it's working for Emma and Margie too - or at least Emma can talk to her without feeling like she's walking on eggshells. I hope things work out for them.

While on our way to Wavy Shores, we ran into Gulliver, making his round trips as usual. Along with the usual treats he brings back, he also has some passengers tagging along. Through his travels, Gulliver often runs into villagers - most who I've never met before - and sometimes they join him on his voyage, later joining us at the camp. I'm pretty sure Gulliver talks up about the camp but I'm not complaining - the more, the merrier! So not only we got treats and maps, but also new friends to look forward to when we get back.

Wavy Shores definitely lives up to its name. Dixie first came across this place by accident and became mesmerized by the landscape. Given her stories about the shores, Rocky had to see it for himself. In fact, a good number of the places on the itinerary - aside from uncharted territory we plan on exploring - were places Dixie have been to. Rocky's been living the dream spending a lot of time with Dixie as she's basically a role model for him, the one who taught him how to sail. It's cute seeing his eyes light up whenever he talks about Dixie!

Everything in Wavy Shores is, well, wavy. Even the sky looks like a blend of wavy colors, contrasting with the sand dunes, the rocks, and the deep blue sea. It's so fascinating to look at - nature is amazing!

To the southwest is Polka Dot Leaf, a floating island known for its coral castle ruins. The exact location is a bit tricky to pinpoint because the island tends to shift due to the rough waters. We lucked out as around this time of year the seas are much calmer so it's all smooth sailing from there - I'd hate to get stuck in the middle of a storm.

The reason why it's called Polka Dot Leaf is because from above that's what the island looks like. It's one of those places that nature is slowly reclaiming, overgrown with seaweed brambles and seabloom blossoms. Walking into a coral castle ruin feels surreal, like I'm expecting the room to transform into another world.

What happened to the island's inhabitants remain a mystery, which adds to the appeal and mystique. Bedrooms with unmade beds, a kitchen sink full of chipped dishes, a desk full of yellowed papers covered in scribbles, a basket of laundry waiting to be folded - all of that, frozen in time. So many untold stories left behind.

To the east lies Summer Grove, a rainforest that is home to many rare butterflies. I've never seen so many colorful butterflies at once! All those colors and shapes - it's amazing to witness! Not to mention how majestic the butterflies are, fluttering about against a sea of green. We also enjoyed the tropical fruits and swimming at the lagoon. The weather was incredibly warm, but not overly humid or hot - which I'm grateful for or else I wouldn't have been able to appreciate the scenery as much and that would be a huge shame.

Then north we went through the Pearl Breeze Current to the idyllic mountains of Quill. Sailing through the Pearl Breeze is no easy feat as the current can be quite tricky to navigate, especially if you're not an experienced sailor. We were on the edge of our seats in our life jackets, holding our breaths while Rocky braved the waters. It was rough, but we made it!

A couple hours later we made it to the mountains and checked into a hotel for a well deserved rest. It's a good thing we weren't too far from land because I wasn't sure how much longer I could handle being at sea after the ordeal with the Pearl Breeze. Aside from a bad headache, an early rest did the trick along with some aspirin and a cool wet cloth.

The next day we went hiking in the mountains, where we came across a cave full of paintings and little iridescent crystals. Exploring the cave was a lot of fun, especially for the kids. Margie and Chrissie put their Chickadee Scout skills to use by guiding us through the tunnels, leading us to an old fountain covered in gothic roses. At first we thought the fountain was broken, until Rusty noticed that the overgrown foliage had blocked something. After a lot of tugging and pulling, a huge burst of water came out, soaking all of us. It was like the fountain came to life, showering us with crystal clear water and gothic rose petals.

On the way back to the hotel we stopped by a shop to change into some dry clothes. Everything looked so nice that it was hard to choose what to wear! Lately I've been into muted neutrals and florals and the store just happened to cater to my interests. Eventually I settled on a dusky pink floral dress with a maroon cardigan and then splurged on a lacy white blouse paired with a brown floral skirt. And then after that we browsed some other shops before grabbing dinner and heading back to the hotel.

Westward bound we headed to Greenaway, an archipelago known for its rare and unusual gems. At the center of the island is the famous volcano, a marvelous sight to see according to many adventurers. Rocky and Chrissie's uncle visited there about thirty years ago, witnessing an eruption when the village he was staying at was forced to evacuate. Since then that part of the island has been abandoned, though as of last year part of the outskirts is no longer restricted to the public.

Chrissie was hoping to find the house McMann rented along with some stuff he had to leave behind. It was long shot, especially since most of the area's buried in volcanic ash, but we figured that it wouldn't hurt to take a look - as long as it's safe. So we did, and as expected, we couldn't get too far because the entire village's pretty much gone. But we were able to figure out the area where McMann stayed based on the lamppost that served as a landmark - one of the few things that wasn't entirely buried in ash or destroyed in the eruption. It's eerie, looking at the remains of what was once a busy place.

Now we're sailing north, to Sunstone Caves. According to Dixie, the island's a floating desert in the middle of nowhere. It's a long ride - at least three days - so we have to be prepared for anything. While out on sea, especially with no landmarks to spot or keep us on track, time can stretch and bend in unpredictable ways. Luckily we're well stocked with supplies and good company so that'll make the time go by smoothly.

Being out here surrounded by sea and sky, it makes me feel so small. Compared to the sea, I'm a tiny little speck floating about. There's so much of the world around me, so much that I don't know about - it's something that keeps me going. The fact that there's so much to see, to explore, to experience - sometimes you get lucky and suddenly all these far off places you've never dreamed of seeing are within your grasp.

[virgilmydarkstrangeson]

Your Lips (They Taste Like June)

Summary: Roman and Dakota are both crushing hard on Patton. That’s it, that’s all you need to know. Pairing: Royaliceit (Roman / Patton / Deceit) Trigger Warnings: Mention of cheating but it’s not really cheating, if you see anything else please just let me know! Word Count: 2,554

~~~

"So," Roman began, as he clanged pots and pans while starting dinner. "Patton kissed me today." He paused what he was doing, hearing Dee put their book down before coming over to the kitchen, shock clearly visible on their face.

"He did?"

"Yeah! We were just chilling out, and I was about to start talking about Hamilton when, bam, kiss right on the lips!" 

"What... what was it like?"

"If you're trying to ask me if he's a good kisser, love, then yes he is. He kinda... tasted like June? I know that makes no sense but that's what I got."

"Hot," Dee smirked, leaning against the counter as Roman flushed red for a moment. "What happened after that? Did you get his number?"

"No, no, nothing like that. It was really short, and after he kept apologising, we really need to tell him we're polyamorous by the way, he was babbling about how he wasn't trying to get me to cheat on you and he left before I could even get a word in."

"Well, at least we know he likes one of us, I'd be okay with that."

"Deedee," Roman moved away from the stove and cupped his partner's face. "I know you like him too, and I wouldn't feel right if he only wanted to date me and not you. Besides, who *wouldn't* want to date a drop-dead gorgeous enby like you?"

"Pfft, okay you sappy homo,"

Conversations such as that weren't out of the ordinary for Roman and Dakota. They were a couple, and both polyamorous, so if anything outside of their circle of love happened they would always tell each other. This, however, was different. Patton had moved to the city a few years ago, appearing almost out of thin air, and both Roman and Dee had developed quite a crush on him, to the point of discussing adding him as a permanent addition to their relationship if he was okay with it.

Dee hadn't seen Patton around too much after that day, which was odd, as they often bumped into each other in the bookshop and cafe and other communal areas, having decent conversations for friends that were still a little awkward. However, on one cold day, while Dee was standing in line to get a coffee to start their morning off right, they finally saw Patton again, having just collected his order.

"Hey, Pat-" Before Dee could finish their greeting, Patton had hurried past them and out of the coffee shop. That was weird, Dee thought, so they decided they could get some sweet caffeine later and followed Patton out the door. 

Luckily, Patton was barely a block away, and Dee caught up to him very quickly. "You're not avoiding me, are you Patton?" Dee asked once they were close enough for Patton to hear them. Patton visibly flinched and spun on his heel, eyes wide as he saw Dee.

"O-oh, Dee, fancy seeing you here!" His voice was very obviously panicked, and Dee couldn't help but frown slightly. 

"Are you alright, Patton? You seem a little jumpy."

"Oh, me? I'm-" Patton seemed to mouth the word fine, but stopped, staying silent for nearly a whole minute before finally speaking again. "I... I have to tell you something, Dee..."

"Oh yeah? What is it?" Dee was genuinely curious what Patton seemed so hesitant to tell them, and the millions of scenarios running through their head never lined up to how Patton was acting.

"I... I... IkissedRomantheotherdayandI'msosorry!" 

"I- what? You're gonna have to say that slower Patton, I didn't catch that."

"I... kissed Roman... It was a complete accident and I'm so sorry, please don't hate me!" Oh. *Oh.* That was it? That was all he was hiding? The sheer simplicity of it made Dee chuckle involuntarily, all tension gone from their body.

"Oh, that? Roman told me the day it happened, I won't hate you just from that!"

"He told you?"

"Yeah! Dude, chill, seriously, both Roman and I are polyamorous and we always tell each other if we kiss somebody else."

"Poly-what?"

"Polyamorous. Y'know, able to love more than one person, having romantic and/or sexual relationships with multiple people?"

"Wait, that's actually a thing?"

"Yeah! Well, if that's all you were acting shady about, then I'm gonna get me some coffee, okay?" Dee turned to leave, but paused, turning back to Patton again. "Oh, and you can keep kissing Roman if you want, he said you're a great kisser." Somehow, Roman's flirting spirit entered Dee's body, as they winked at Patton before heading back to the coffee shop.

Roman was laughing, which was normally one of the best sounds Dee could ever hear, but right now? She wanted to beat Roman into the ground for laughing.

"It's not funny, Ro!" She huffed, her head buried in her hands. "I winked at him! He probably thinks I get off to my boyfriend kissing random people!"

"Well-"

"Do not finish that sentence Roman Adam Preston or I swear to the lord I will end your life." Dee glared menacingly at Roman through her fingers, who held his hands up in defence.

"Okay, okay!" Roman sat down next to Dee, slowly removing her hands from her face. "I highly doubt Patton would think anything bad about you for winking at him, love.”

After explaining to Patton that Dee seriously did not mind him kissing Roman, he started hanging around them more, just like before. Even if Dee was sometimes, subconsciously hoping that he would like them too, it was never vocalised, not even when Roman joined them for grabbing a coffee or going to lunch during their lunch breaks.

Unfortunately, it was during one of these three-way outings, going to a movie that they all wanted to see, that Dee felt their heart drop for the first time in a long while. It was as they had all just met up outside Patton’s apartment building, all talking together comfortably when a voice cut through the chatter.

"Ethan!?" Dee froze, which they were sure Patton and Roman would both notice, and Roman seemed to also tense up slightly. That voice, it was so familiar but surreal to hear again.

It was Dee's brother, Noah, looking slightly puzzled but still smiling, always smiling. At that moment, Dee realised that they were wearing a skirt and makeup, and anxiety started kicking in, as they had never come out to their family, and what was their brother *doing* here when he lived halfway across the country!?

"Noah," Roman spoke, clearly putting himself between Dee and Noah. "What're you doing here?"

"Uh, do I know you?"

"You've known me since I was born." 

"Wait, Rosie is that you!? No way, I never would've guessed you cut your hair short!" Roman didn't seem to even twitch at the use of that old nickname, but Dee did, cringing at the way that Noah was talking.

"Roman," Roman spoke, voice lower as if to seem threatening. "It's Roman now. I'm a guy."

"I- what? But you were definitely a little girl."

"Well now I'm a guy," Roman sounded like he was getting angry, and Dee was so nervous at what Noah would say to them not being a boy, let alone actually being genderfluid, that they couldn't even think of anything to say. "Sorry to cut this short, but *Dakota* and I are taking our good friend Patton here to see a movie, and we'd hate to be late." With that, Roman grabbed Dee by the shoulder and steered them away, motioning for Patton to follow them, which he quickly did, confusion on his own face.

Dee couldn't even find the strength to say anything until the three of them had arrived in a secluded cafe, and Roman was ordering drinks. Even then, Patton was the one that prompted the conversation, Dee was sat in silence clenching their hands hard enough that it was starting to hurt.

"Are... are you okay Dee? Who was that?" Dee didn't respond, not even really registering Patton speaking until he placed a hand on top of theirs, causing them to jump and look at him. "Are you alright?"

"O-oh, yeah, I'm fine, it's nothing," Dee stammered out, both shaken up from seeing Noah but also from Patton essentially holding their hand.

"Who was that guy?"

"My brother... I never told any of my family about me,"

"About your pronouns?"

"Yeah... That's why he called me E- my old name. He doesn't know but still..."

“That can’t have been easy to deal with,” Patton shifted in his seat. “C-could I… give you a hug?” Dee looked up at Patton, too shocked to even say anything, so they nodded, and Patton immediately pulled Dee into the warmest hug they had ever experienced. Patton was so *soft* and *warm* and Dee near enough melted into the embrace. Just touching Patton made all of Dee’s panic disappear in an instant as if Patton’s very soul was comforting them and taking away all of the negative feelings. Dee couldn’t help but nuzzle into Patton’s chest, not even caring that they were beginning to blush, as they listened to Patton’s heartbeat. Wait a minute, where was Patton’s heartbeat?

After the incident with Noah, Patton seemed to be trying to find ways to spend more time with Dee and Roman, either separately or all together. Annoyingly, Dee had to work a lot of the times that Patton was free and asking to hang out, so, months later, after deciding with Roman that they would test the waters, she wasn't even there to witness Patton’s reaction.

“Patton?” Roman and Patton were currently in Dee’s apartment, Roman having let himself in to raid Dee’s snacks, although now they were sitting at the dining table. “I have a question to ask you, well really it’s from me and Dee, and trust me she would love to be here right now if she wasn’t at work.” Roman paused for a second, pulling courage from every bone in his body to say the next sentence. “Would you… like to join me and Dee? In our relationship?”

“A-are you sure? Does Dee really like me like that?”

“Are you kidding? She still hasn’t stopped talking about that hug you gave her and that was months ago.”

“Well, of course, I would! I had no idea you guys felt the same way!”

When Dee got home, tired from work and dishevelled, she didn’t expect to see Roman and Patton making out on her couch, but that was the sight she was greeted with, and frankly, it made her completely forget about the shitty day she’d had at work. 

“Well, I take it that your day’s been better than mine?” Dee asked, alerting the two boys to her presence. Patton pulled away first, shocked and blushing extremely hard, while Roman was just smiling widely.

“Deedee!” Roman greeted, keeping an arm around Patton’s waist while his other arm reached out for Dee. “How was work?” Dee couldn't help but smile slightly at how familiar this felt, even as the first time Patton was involved.

“It was shit, but at least I now have two boyfriends to come home to,” She shrugged off her coat and joined the two guys on the couch, slotting perfectly against Roman’s side and reaching for Patton’s hand. God, this felt so good, the love and warmth already there was incredible.

“Are you saying that when you came home to just me it wasn't good enough?” Roman pouted, clearly just playing around and Dee knew this.

“What, am I not allowed to pick favourites?” The small giggle that came from Patton then was heavenly, and Dee almost felt as if she had melted.

Dee didn't really know how it had happened, but suddenly, the three of them were sat watching a movie, Dee with her legs slung across Roman’s lap, and both her and Patton snuggled into the taller man. 

At least, until Roman lifted Dee up with ease and placed her squarely in Patton’s lap as he went to make some popcorn, causing both Patton and Dee to squeak in surprise.

“Hi,” Dee smiled, getting comfortable on Patton’s lap. If Roman wanted to place her here, no way in hell was she going to get up again.

“Hi…” Patton smiled back, cheeks flushed red even as his arms hesitantly wrapped around her waist. A few seconds passed by, or maybe a few minutes, as Dee sat and counted Patton’s freckles (27 across the bridge of his nose alone) before suddenly Patton had leaned in, and their lips had connected.

Oh, holy shit, Roman was *right*, Patton did somehow taste just like June. It made no sense, even as she was kissing him, yet it was still a fact. And it was absolutely incredible.

Incredible was a great word to describe the entire relationship. As Patton became more comfortable and all three communicated even more love blossomed, even when Roman and Dee discovered something unpredictable about Patton.

“Pat?”

“Hmm?”

“This may sound really, really weird, but you don't have a heartbeat.” Dee felt Patton freeze up as Roman spoke, all three of them nestled into a cuddle pile in Roman’s queen-sized bed. Roman’s head was currently lying on Patton’s chest, and he turned over to better get a view of him. “Pat?”

“I- uh-” Patton was stuttering, his eyes wide in what seemed to be terror, which caused Dee to sit up, accidentally jostling Patton’s legs as she did so. 

“Pat?” Dee asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “You can tell us anything, you know that right?”

“I- yeah…” Patton was silent for a moment, chewing on his lip before letting out an exhale of air. “Okay… promise not to freak out?”

“I promise,” Roman and Dee both said at the exact same time, which made Patton giggle ever so slightly before his face went serious again. 

“Okay… I’m not human.” Patton looked between Dee and Roman, gaging the reactions. Roman simply looked confused, but Dee pressed further.

“Then, what are you, if you're not human?” 

“I’m… I’m an angel.”

“Bullshit,” Roman spoke, sitting up himself and unintentionally yanking Dee with him, as they had been holding hands this entire time. “You’re an angel? We’re actually dating an angel?”

“Roman, we said we wouldn't freak out,” Dee chided, taking her hand back before her arm could be pulled out of its socket. 

“I can show you if you really want?” 

“Don’t feel pressured, love,” Dee spoke, but Roman very quickly interjected with a “Do it!” 

Patton took a deep breath in, and as he exhaled, a warm orange-yellow glow filled the room as if the sun had just formed in Roman’s bedroom. Dee blinked a few times, before noticing the wing shapes extending from Patton’s back, as well as the halo sat delicately in his hair, both of which were emitting the golden glow. Patton looked extremely scared now, looking between Roman and Dee once again.

“Holy shit,” Dee breathed, “Our boyfriend is actually an angel.” 

Roman was speechless, eyes moving from Patton’s halo to his wings and back again before he surged forth and planted a kiss squarely on Patton’s lips. What he said next would forever stick in both Dee and Patton’s minds forever.

“Angels taste like June…”

~~~ Taglist: @noahlovescoffee @canadian-crofters @infinitysgrace @alltimevirgilant @peanut0303 @trans-logan-sanders @theunoriginaldaisy @max-is-tired @creativity-killed-thekitten @uwillbeefoundtonight @flamingfawkes @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream @romanasanders

[tryingtolivethroughtheday]

(to make the story clearer, for the last eight days and for the remainibg six me and my family -single parent- are staying in a block of furnished apartments for rental near the coast- we are visiting some relatives but not staying in their house). so, the appartement next to ours was empty, and a new family came in today. I'd just got out from the shower, when my mom comes in my bedroom and says 'I really do not undrestand' and murmuring to herself. so i, a by nature curious being that never expects the worst from people, ask her what's wrong. and then BOI did i have the biggest surprise-disappointment of my life. she says (smirking like fuck you honestly) 'Oh, it' s nothing. I just cannot understand whether that... thing from the people next door is a boy or a girl' REFERING TO THEIR FUCKING CHILD.

I went completely silent. I wanted to cry, laugh at her ridiculousness and at the same time i became increasingly angrier. like, u know, i felt a pressure building up from my stomach, going up to my lungs, taking over my throat and i wanted to yell at her. because, when i hear those things feom my grandpa, i dont mind it so much, since he's old and he'll be dead soon (i dont like to think about it but it's the truth and, no matter how ugly it sounds, it's a soothing thought when it comes to topics like this), and i discovered that my dad isn't quite fond of any kind of queerness himself long before I realised im pansexual and genderqueer. but my mum... although i should have expected it, to be honest, it hurt at the moment -a lot- and it still does thinking about it right now, a couple hours later.

So, after my extended silence, i think to myself 'NOW OR NEVER. U R QUEER UR PROUD AND U WON'T LET THIS BULLSHIT HAPPEN RIGHT IN FRONT OF UR SALAD' aaaand i answer her: 'uhh what do you even mean? why would you say something like that?! it' s really none of your buisness how anyone expresses their gender' (my voice got increasingly louder and more shrill but i didn't mind, cuz it felt so liberating to stand up against her about this!!!!!!)

and fuckin woman looks at me weid and then starts chuckling (idk if anyone feels me, but this whole thing hurt) and says 'Nooo no you misunderstooooooood! you perceived something different that what i was trying to saaaayyy! look, why don' t you go give it a look yourself, maybe you'll be able to figure it out!' and left the room

o m g . this is so wrong. her WHOLE sentence was so wrong. like, first of all I MISUNDERSTOOD?!?!?! whAT. tell me HOW i misunderstood, when you literally said that the way a teenager expresses their gender identity is something laughable, a fucking riddle for solving??????? and plus, as i said, I T I S N O N E O F Y O U R B U I SN ES S

and the 'give it a look yourself' part got me FUMING. like, i didn't ever understand how racist people see those whom they discriminate against as objects/lower beings and not humans. but to see it live. man. awful.

like, i remember myself having violent verbal outbursts defending gay and lesbian people to her since elementery school. fortunately it doesn't have to happen anymore or at least i dont need to get violent cuz one time about three years (or more? not sure) ago, i got so mad at one of her comments (judging the competence of a coworker by the fact that to HER he 'acted like a faggot') that i made my most dramatic outburst, referencing the concentration camps and how she should send them all in there and have them executed. shut her up veeeeeerrrry pretty.

but it had never come down to transphobia as well. and, im saying transphobia bc the kid could be a trans boy, a trans girl, a nonbinary person, a trans enby, but she didn't know. and she decided to make fun of them. and it means even more to me now than ever, bcuz i am kinda struggling with gender identity & gender expression. have been for a while. and to know that this is the reaction and treatment i should expect by my own mother is... something.

anyway. she left to go to the market and i got to meet our neighbour. she (learned name&pronouns) is the same age as me, follows the SAME SCIENTIFIC FIELD at school, is interested in psychology aaaand we exchanged instas to arrenge study & sea dates:) -platonic dates; we didn't have the chance to talk about sexualities yet and tbh idk if she'd like mz- and SHE IS PRETTY LIKE SHE HAS SHORT AFRO HAIR AND DELICATE HANDS ok ill stop. OK SHE APPARENTLY WEARS BASKETBALL JERSEYS I CANNOT-

after my adored mother returned i made her uncomfortable by telling her that i met the girl and also that i couldn't understand why she was so rude and judgemental- she yelled an 'ANYWAY' and asked me to pass her the fruit from the bags skskskskskskksksksksks REVENGE

that's it for today's rant! stay tuned for more original, lengthy, tiring, uninteresting updates from my sad life!!!!!!!!! :')

[kivaqblog-blog]

What It Was Like, Finding Karen

I’m dropping the first part of the original piece, and giving it a different name and changing a few things, to see if it works better. It’s more to-the-point now, and Karen is more vivid to me too.

I came out. It was great. It’s scary as fuck. I've never really worn women's clothing outside, or inside either, until recently. I got my femme on reading radical feminist books in the early 70s, I never learned how to wear all this stuff. Or jewelry and a purse (which turns out to be very handy, compared to a backpack). I mean, I love it, it's a kind of happy I didn't expect, along with the getting-used-to-it part. But I still have a lot to learn compared to the trans women I see posting selfies: finding my style, what I look good and feel good in. We're going to the CAE Prom, I've never gone because I didn't wear dresses before, so what was the point?

So, I'm out. Finally. To be clear, I am 58. And I can't even put on makeup, so I don't. But estrogen saved my soul, I was about done for, consumed with anger and pain. Now ... it's different. I have to write this out later, it's important.

But I was talking about outness. There’s the outside part, like dealing with the world, being visible but not hypervisible, meaning so visible it’s painful or scary. Learning to get out of and into a cardigan in a crowded New York (all crowded to varying degrees). And there’s also the inside part, which I’d been ignoring for years, since my therapist passed in 2010. My inner child, or as I called her, my inner kid. For a few years in the late 80s-early 90s the phrase was everywhere, to the point of annoyance. It sounded like psychobabble. Maybe it was. But I understand now. (Probably the estrogen.) I remembered, I do have an inner kid. I’d left her down there in my subconscious, and I realized I needed to find her and bring her back. It had been long enough.

I went looking for her. Trepidatiously at first, because it involved going back inside, down into the part where I have to step over broken things, sharp edges. It’s not a happy place. And it’s hard to see.

But when I finally made my way down there, she wasn’t a kid anymore. She looked more like my inner early adolescent. She had one of those shaved-on-one-side, dyed-rainbow haircuts, and was wearing earrings that I felt oddly envious of until I realized she had “borrowed” them from Kathleen. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck, and she was wearing glasses, the red cat’s-eye frames which were the ones I’d really wanted to get the other day at Urban Optical. She was reading a webcomic on her iPad — Goodbye to Halos, I think — and humming some kind of tune I couldn’t identify, some folk song. She looked about eleven or twelve now. Still sitting on the same stool, still without her feet touching the floor. Something dangerous or bad down there, maybe; she was always sitting up on that stool. Did she even know I was here?

“Karen?” I said, using the name I remember wishing I’d had when I was nine. She stopped humming. “I’m here to take you home,” I said. “I’m sorry this all took so long.” I felt awkward, ashamed, guilty, inadequate to the task, the usual array of inward negativity.

She darkened her screen and sighed, but she didn’t look up at first. Then she spoke. She’d never done that before. Her voice was surprisingly soft. Calm. “Don’t apologize, Mama. You didn’t do anything wrong, you have to remember that. It’s like Aunt Lyssa told you.”

“What’s like …” Aunt Lyssa? Wtf? “… what did Alyssa tell me?” I was totally thrown by this girl. Every time I’d risked this before, she was this miserable battered child who couldn’t speak, didn’t react. It was terrible, just looking at her. She looked like everything that had ever happened to me.

That was years ago, the last time, more or less. She never changed. I tried holding her, cleaning her face and her hair, comforting her, even singing to her before now. It had never helped. She seemed limp, dead, but she wasn’t, quite. She could feel pain; I could tell that much. It’s what she thought she was made for.

Now, she was years older, and alive, it seemed. And talking. Talkative, even. She sounded like she was trying to be patient with me, ffs.

She looked up, and her eyes were brown, not green, but she was still me.

She looked at me very seriously. “When she came over for dinner, Aunt Lyssa said to not be so hard on yourself, that no one should ever be ashamed of how long their transition takes. Because anyone’s transition is a struggle. We’re each different, even if everyone has to fight this fight, if they’re girls like us. Or boys. Bois.” I could tell she meant a different spelling the second time. “Transfolx. This is ‘the hardest thing you’ll ever do,’ right?”

I just nodded. “And each of us has to walk our own path, and for us, our path has been really twisty, and it crossed over places we’d been before, and sometimes it felt like being lost. Sometimes it felt like we were going in circles.” She made little diagrams in the air with her hands, twisty ones that crossed in three dimensions, squiggles and circles and spirals. She was looking at me like she’d been thinking about nothing but this for a long time, and had been waiting to get my undivided attention. “Like that line from the song you kept listening to, after we lost the last elect: We’ve been in this room before.”

“I know. You’ve never left this room. When I came looking for you before, even in the 90s, it was awful. You couldn’t move, or speak. You never got older. Like you weren’t allowed to feel comforted. Like the girl in the dark room, in The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas. The LeGuin story.”

She closed her eyes and gave me a curt nod: yes, I’ve read everything you’ve ever read and no, I’d rather not talk about that story right now. I kept going. “It seemed like we were only created in order to feel pain. I couldn’t even help myself, much less you. I changed in the 90s, once I started taking estrogen I felt healed, for a while. But I couldn’t heal you. When everything seemed to go wrong in 2000, I ran away. I was so easily broken back then, and I broke. I am so sorry I left you here.” No response. “Do you remember anything from before?”

“I remember everything. I mean, not every-thing. There are a lot of parts I can’t remember specifically, but I remember it all inside, everything that happened to us, everything we felt. Our body remembers. I remember what it was like, you hiding your feelings inside me, then hiding me, in order to survive.”

I’d meant before as in before-Nineties, our first transition, but she seemed to think I meant the abuse, since everything always seems to point back toward it. For some reason I thought I needed to explain. “Our body remembers feeling afraid, inside,” I started, “in this way you can’t just leave behind, because of what she did to Carol and us. It’s called PT—”

“I know what it’s called,” she said, exasperated. “I do have an iPad, you know. I’m not completely dependent on your sensory input for information anymore.”

“Okay, sorry.” Jeez. Touchy kid. And a bit of a smart-ass. I have to focus: she’s me, and I came to get us both, and take us home. I’m not here to get into an argument with myself.

She looked a bit sheepish after that remark, but didn’t want to actually apologize. “I mean, thanks for the iPad, it does help a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, bewildered, and added pointlessly, “There are a lot of them around now,” as if that explained why she now had one, along with the power of speech and something of an attitude. And why she was several years older. Maybe it did explain it, I’m still not sure exactly what happened in there over the last couple of years.

“It helped a lot, when I was trying to get ready. I can see much better who we are now. All of us, any of us. Whichever ‘us’ you have in mind. Transfolx, or our sisters, trans and cis and lesbian and bi and enby. I’ve been reading. I tried to teach myself a little about intersectionality. I tried my best to relearn the non-binary P3 personal pronouns they and them treated grammatically like S3 she and he, and the singular ending, such as themself. And I learned to stop thinking of ourself as S3 neuter gender: we’re not an it, we’re a she.

“Just the way it felt to begin with. You remember? It seemed a lot simpler then, when we were little. There were two genders, one neutral pronoun, and three television networks. And we didn’t know exactly why we were the wrong gender. But boy, were we ever wrong.

“If we were growing up in Northampton – or Amherst – if we were growing up now, I suppose we might see it somewhat differently. We might at least have been seen differently, at least seen by others like us, or similar to us. Everyone seems to be non-binary now. I’m still not entirely sure what that means. But it never happened, we never met anyone else like us or even similar to us, even after we came to New York, not for a very long time. Except queer women of course, but that was problematic back then. Until we fell in love with Kathleen.

“When we were a kid, we never quite understood in the first place why we weren’t a girl anymore, did we? We can’t remember when they did it, we can’t really remember the before-time, or what happened when they tried to convince us we were a boy, that we had no choice in the matter. I think we cried a lot.” She sounded pretty certain, like she had a better grip on the dimly distant past from where she sat than I did. “Yes,” I agreed, “I suppose we did.”

“It probably felt like we’d done something terribly wrong, like we were being punished for something really bad we did by having to be a boy from now on. We remembered just enough from before for it to seem hideously unfair, I think, something taken away from us for no good reason. We kept asking for pink, metaphorically, and getting baby blue instead.

“We were happy when we were a girl, damn it! We liked it! I know that now.” She sounded angry, for the first time. “We couldn’t remember being a girl, exactly, just being happy. Spinning around so our skirt flew up, until we got dizzy and fell on the grass. We never forgot our skirt, did we? We just didn’t know what it was, that memory. Just an image, of a skirt flying up, and seen from our point of view, and the idea that it was fun.” 

I tried to take a deep breath, exhale, let it go. “No,” I said, finally, “we never forgot that, I made sure of that somehow. And we never understood.” 

“And our mother’s motivations are irrelevant now; everyone must have convinced her it was terribly wrong, raising us as a girl, when it was actually one of the few things she got right. It became the terrible mistake that turned her into such a total gender cop. It was the awful sad thing we concealed so poorly from ourself. I could barely speak to you after that, for so long. You could barely hear me, she kept drowning me out. You just knew you were sad.

“And then, when we started across last time, and then we didn’t make it, I just went numb again. Or you disconnected from me. I don’t know. I know it was a long time. We spent so many years with our heart stuck in that old one-panel cartoon meme: the Poor Little Match Girl, with our nose pressed against the glass window, watching the real women inside having brunch … that it came to seem like it really was our fate, after all. Part of being designed to feel pain.

“I remember we were so afraid, the first time. It was so fucking dangerous in the Nineties, and we’d never even worn makeup. We certainly couldn’t dress as a lesbian. We had to pretend, again. The punishment for not passing was, you know ….” She looked lost for a moment, like she was remembering every horrible thing she could remember that happened to people then. The thing that kept us in “their” clothes, not ours. Why we hid.

Then she looked up. “We tried, and then we failed. It all seemed impossible, finally, the dojo, the Goddess, everything. We gave up,” she concluded, explaining to herself more than to me. She let out a long ragged sigh. “Nine out of ten who try never make it across. We thought we knew that going in, but knowing doesn’t help. It seemed impossible again, for so long. And we tried not to care. And I went to sleep again, for a long time. 

“But the work we did in the 90s, that wasn’t wasted effort, I saw that on this thing, too. I saw you were putting your writing online. I saw you changing, so I knew you’d be coming for me. Sooner or later.”

I could not fathom her patience. I thought she’d be screaming at me: Why the fuck had it all taken so long? Why did you leave me here? Do you know how afraid I was, how alone I felt? But I guess those are my issues. I guess that’s another difference between her and me.

“So you’re ready to go with me now?”

“Ready?” she said, and she gave me a look, one arched eyebrow, pursed lips, and a get-real expression in her not-green eyes. “No, I may not be ready, but it’s time to go. If we’ve learned anything in the last few months, it’s that we can handle things, things that we’d thought we couldn’t do, could never do, up until the day we did them. And once it got started, things that we never expected to happen suddenly were happening, really quickly, and there we were. Out!” She smiled, then turned serious again. “And we’ll keep going this time. Because we’re not going back again. Right?”

“No going back. I promise.”

“So, sure, why not? Let’s go.” Her voice cracked a bit. She stuck her iPad in a shoulder bag and got down from her stool, at last; and smiled at me, shyly. She stood there for a second: she didn’t sink into lava, she wasn’t attacked by alligators, it was just a floor after all. She had tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying-sad, she was crying-happy. She had waited forever for this. And I knew she didn’t really believe I’d come back for her, not until I turned up. Because I wouldn’t have believed it would really happen, either.

She walked over to me. I was going to pick her up, but she shook her head, looking amused. “You don’t have to carry me, Mama, you’re not like that trans guy in the story you read in Curve who picked up his inner kid. His inner kid was younger, and so was he. If you hadn’t read that … I think it’s what made you come get me. I’m glad you read it, because I want to leave now. But our story is different.”

“You know,” I began to object, “I don’t feel old anymore, since I started the estrogen again….”

“I know,” she cut me off, “you feel like you have the energy of a thirteen-year-old. Just really sore,” she added, sardonically.

“Like I have the emotional energy of a 13-year-old,” I persisted. “And about the same degree of emotional stability, it seems.”

“Y’know, Mom, I’m twelve and a half. I’m not sure how to take that.”

“Yeah, about that: how did you get older? I didn’t think it worked that way.”

“Everyone is different, Mama, you know that. Like everyone’s story is different.” She gave me that patiently-explaining-things look again, and continued: “I healed and grew” — she gestured toward herself — “when you began to heal and grow out there. When you stopped hiding. When you realized you had to stop hiding. And the more you stopped hiding from the world, the easier it became for us to walk our path together. You’ve been walking it alone for way too long. And you don’t have to.”

Um, wow. “You’re pretty philosophical for a twelve-year-old.”

“I take after you,” she replied. “And I want out of here, too. I’ve had plenty of time to think about things. And you’re older than you think, too.” She smiled, again. “You don’t have to carry me now, Mama, just walk with me. Please? We’ll walk together. And don’t ever let go of my hand again, okay? Not until we get home.” For a moment she sounded like she was six again.

“Okay, I promise,” and I took her little hand in my huge one. She took a deep breath, exhaled, sniffled, took another. “Mama?”

“What, sweetie?”

“What’s it really like out there?”

“It’s fun! It’s scary, you knew that already,” I said hurriedly. “But it’s way more fun than I’d imagined, being out! And it really is a lot safer now, being someone like us. You heard what Lys told me.” She nodded. “Not everywhere, but here where we live, at least. We’re still fighting, politically, and change happens slowly, except when it doesn’t.” She smiled again, and nodded. She looked like she wanted to get out there and start fighting too.

“So, I guess you saw, I finally started out last May, and suddenly a few months later all these changes came tumbling over each other, making a hash out of all the planning I thought I was doing … it’s fun out there because it’s scary, and it’s scary because it’s fun. And unpredictable.” She looked dubious. We’ve never been fond of surprises. “That can be fun too, you’ll see. Sometimes good things happen, sometimes they’re wonderful. Sometimes not. Mostly though, the difference is we can feel happy now. Not happy all the time, you know, but sometimes.”

“Okay,” she said, taking another deep breath, exhaling. “Whatever happens, I’m really glad you came to get me. When we were kids, we used to call this room ‘The Dying Place,’ remember?” She said it campily, like it was the title of a Buffy episode. Then she turned serious again: “For a long time, it felt like I was going to just split apart in here, when you were so sad out there, before. Like I wouldn’t even survive, and that would mean you couldn’t survive either. And you didn’t even know it. So, fuck yeah, let’s go!”

I hadn’t thought about “the dying place” in decades. It was so long ago when I called it that, it was just me in here, I didn’t have an inner child then because I was still one on the outside, too, trying to survive growing up and somehow imagine a means of escape from our insane mother. I remember reading the phrase in a magazine article about someone who had been brutally abused as a child, and became dissociative (mpd) as a consequence. The darkest place inside her pain, she called it that. It seemed apt. It sounded about the way I felt at the time.

When it’s your mother who abuses you, it’s hard to avoid the feeling that she’s punishing you. So you must have done something wrong, something to deserve it. It’s your fault. You have to try harder. In fact, something is apparently terribly wrong with you, if you’re me: all the men in the vicinity of your life get upset by things like when you’re afraid of a water moccasin hissing and you run off, or you refuse to take the fishhook out because you didn’t realize that the hook goes through the fish’s mouth, that the fish dies, that it was all so awful: you have to start acting like a man, you hear it from your mother every day … maybe if we take him hunting, they’d say. Nothing seems to work.

Anything horrible can come to seem normal, if it’s been going on long enough.

I inclined my head toward the door. “So, shall we?”

She looked around one last time. “Should we turn out the lights?”  

Dear Lady, give me strength, I thought, it’s so dark in here.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, it’s sensor-activated. It’ll go off by itself.”

“’Kay,” she said, as though that settled it. “Let’s go!” She squeezed my hand, and we left, together.