““When I Was About 20 Years Old, I Met An Old Pastor’s Wife Who Told Me That When She Was Young

growing up autistic / growing up gaslit

I.

this is the first lesson you learn: you are always wrong.

there is no electric hum buzzing through the air. there is no stinging bite to the sweetness of the mango. there is no bitter metallic tang to the water.

there is no cruelty in their laughter, no ambiguity in the instructions, no reason to be upset. there is no bitter aftertaste to your sweet tea, nothing scratchy about your blanket.

the lamps glow steadily. they do not falter.

II.

this is the second lesson you learn: you are never right.

you are childish, gullible, overly prone to tears. you are pedantic, combative, deliberately obtuse. you are lazy, unreliable, never on time.

you’re always making up excuses, rudely interrupting, stepping on people’s shoes. you’re always trying to get attention, never thinking about anyone else, selfish through and through.

it’s you that’s the problem. the lamps are fine.

III.

this is the third lesson you learn: you must always give in.

mother knows best. father knows best. doctor knows best. teacher knows best. this is the proper path. do not go astray.

listen to your elders, respect your betters, accept what’s given to you as your due. bow to the wisdom of experience, the education of the professional, the clarity of an external point of view.

what do you know about lamps, anyway?

lowkey things are shaping up to be pretty odd

they should invent something transformative and rewarding that happens inside my comfort zone

getting shot in the head probably feels soooo good for like a second

maybe this time picking at Textures on my skin will lead to being silky smooth

I'm not okay. Took a mental health day to do my part and make some art about it. No matter the opposition, we won't be erased. A world without trans people has never existed, and it never will! 🏳️‍⚧️

May this piece be a small light in the darkness for those in need of comfort and hope. Feel free to share/re-post elsewhere if this resonates with you. Just please make sure you include the alt text!

twenty-eight laps around the sun later,

mercurially aligned,

I am

refusing to fall

apart this time—

at least,

not as if I haven’t walked this path before.

I know

I know

I can survive this one.

I can breathe

through

it— it’s

less than 12 months

from the day

you asked me to marry you

and it hurts so bad I can’t breathe

but I

am not going

to give up

or to kill myself over this

bullshit.

not your bullshit,

not again.

You ever hear that old chestnut about how most people neglect the part of the story of Icarus where he also had to avoid flying too low, lest the spray of the sea soak his feathers and cause him to fall and drown? You ever think about how different the world would be if Icarus died that way instead? If the idiom was to Fly To Close To The Sea? A warning against playing it far too safe, about not stretching your wings and soaring properly? You ever think about how Icarus died because he was happy?

Love complimenting strangers' outfits. They always smile so hard. It's like, haha I got you, bitch. You've fallen for my manipulations of Making Your Day. Yeah walk away from me all happy. I got your ass

I need to see some transition timelines from fat transmascs / nonbinary folks / others on low dose testosterone aiming for androgyny