⚠️⏰Warning ⚠️ ⏰

T Journey Journal Entry #3

Time Since Start: 5 days

Oily. I am nothing but oily. Like at this point I better be careful before the US tries to invaide me for “freedom”((: Usually if my mental health gets bad I know I can go one day without a shower and my hair and skin will feel fine. But now? I’m not sure that’s possible. There’s so much oil on my skin and face and hair that I’m sure later down the line I’ll have to shower twice a day. Not in the sense that I’m complaining by any means, I knew this was gonna happen I just didn’t know it would be the first thing to happen on T. Haven’t noticed much else besides continuing to feel more awake and all that. Although, have been waaaaay hungrier as of late, much to the detriment of the ingridient house Mamá and Mr. Tennessee have cultivated((:

Speaking of, hopefully talking about Mamá won’t be a part of every entry, but it does remind me of a comment she made at Christmas. Mamá being herself means Christmas is usually filled with more practical gifts, socks, chones, so on so forth, and one of those gifts were shampoo and conditioner. It’s a brand that works well for my hair but she threw in a comment about how my younger sister (who got the same type of shampoo/conditioner) and I had “gross oily hair”. Kinda threw me for a loop bc I’ve never heard her talk ab any of us like that. She meant it as a joke or throwaway comment but that was just, uncalled for.

Figured I’d use this blog to document my T journey, no reason I shouldn’t

Time since start: 3 days

Only a few days in and the only noticeable differences are an increase in energy and much, much oilier skin. Usually I can go a day without washing my face, I don’t think that’s the case anymore. Strangely, I’ve worn skirts more since I’ve started T than I ever have. Maybe it’s the subconscious of “I’m finally a dude I can do whatever I want”

I haven’t gotten any snide remarks from Mamá or anyone else since the whole “you’re irresponsable for starting T w/o having a job” lecture the day I got the gel. I’ll have a job soon, I’ve applied to a place my friend works and I’ll call them soon, as well as a second place where I know the manager. The sooner I can be out of here the better, especially since they’re kicking me out May 1st.

The gel smells like sanitizer

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A Reflective Poem on Mamá Filled with What I Wish I Could Say

TW: Grafic Topics

Growing up is so weird because what do you mean my mother is a bio essentialist.

Granted I should’ve seen that coming with the Wicca stuff and the “divine feminine” and the needing to know all my friend’s bio genders and blatant misogyny to other women but like, I’m trans. She named me Sean because it’s my dead uncle’s middle name. She helped me learn how to dress masculinely. Why is it now I’m getting told to “ditch the facial hair” and that I “shouldn’t start testosterone now” and I “should tone down the eyeliner”.

Mamá you filled my head with stories of you being goth in the 90s and showed me the metal cds you got then. Why can’t I do that? Why do you have to look and me and see nothing but a mess of emotions? Will it still be that way when my voice drops? When my facial hair grows in? When my name is changed? How “inate” are these traits you’ve put on me? And why do you keep them there? You don’t even know who I am and you act like you know everything. You don’t.

Growing up is weird bc what do you mean my mom is a narcissist?

Everyone said my dad was one, and they were right, because I ended up being one too. The all-importance, the thinking you can do no wrong, that masculine snark that everyone takes as confidence, I thought it was his, and it is his, it’s mine. It’s the one connection I still have with my dad, my window of understanding of who he is and was, and why he made those decisions at my age. Why I’m never going to be like him

But Mamá what you have is worse. Your narcissism says you can never be wrong. That I in my 19 years of life can never know as much as you do. But if I told you of the clubs and the drugs and the queers I love and the friendships that I hold dearest to my heart you’d never trust me ever again. The shame you carry with you is harder than any shoe thrown in a frightening joke. Mamá I know you lie about my dead uncle. And I know it’s not on purpose, he was absolutely like me. He partied so hard and loved so feverishly that you didn’t know the full extent until he died. He had to die for you to know him. I know he hid from you the way I hide from you, out of self preservation because your way is the all knowing, the divine, and god forbid you learn the nuance of life

Growing up is weird because what do you mean my mom is bisexual

She told me about it when I was 12 and came out to her. She was the first person to explain trans people to me. Maybe that’s why she hates me being trans, I don’t do it in her definition. I was too young, I was too feminine, and even now the heels and the skirts and the wigs and the endless eyeshadow pallets are a testament to how I’m not the “right kind” of trans. Does she know it’s not because I’m secretly going to “switch back” to being a girl. Does she know that I do drag. Does she know about my three drag dads. Does she know about the trans women I cry to when she says I don’t have my life together. Does she know why.

Mamá I will never tell you why. I will never tell you about being groomed and trafficked and drugged with a fake prescription and doing all the house work for a woman I was terrified of. You met that woman. I said she was my roommate. But even if you knew the truth you wouldn’t have helped me. You would’ve shamed me. That’s all you ever do, that’s all you’re ever filled with, and no matter what happens to me it’s all you have to offer now. The shame for my clothes for my hair for my body if you ever saw it for the parts of me you can’t see and never ever will

Growing up is strange

Because what do you mean my mom is abusive too

She was never supposed to be that

Mamá do you know that I want to die?

Me: Aw man I don’t want my dick to smell weird, I should give it a little trim, like kinda hairy but not super long

Every Single Person I’ve Ever Slept With: Bush!! BoyBush!! Hairy cock!! Pubic hair!! For me!!!!

i hate this fucking "i'm just a girl" brand of feminism bc it is so easy for young women in their 20s who are afraid of big changes and personal growth to revert to depending on their gender and the associated fragility of it so that they can make it through life when really they're just trapping themselves in a position where they cannot and will not grow out of that fear.

I love Josh’s anti-classism so much. I grew up in a single parent household that didn’t have time/the ability to cook. I taught myself as an adult and ended up loving it. I cook with this stuff a lot. Shit, the RealLemon juice ends up in a lot of my cocktails. Sure, I like fancy ingredients when I can afford them and I have things I get picky about using - but I have bad hands, mincing garlic is painful as fuck. There’s a lot to be said for knowing how to work with what you have. Don’t shame people for trying, don’t shame people for feeding their families things that they enjoy.

DO NOT SKIP!!!!!!!

my friend nader, like many of us, has dreams of what he wants to do with his life. he wants to go to university — first, though, he has to survive the terrible conditions he’s been subject to by the zionist occupation.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Abd AL Salam and his family get through this war inGaza, organized by Ahmed Alanqar

**Humanitarian Support Request: Abdul Salam Al-Anqar** … Ahmed Alanqar needs your support for Help Abd AL Salam and his family get th

we’ve hit €51,403, but that’s still only barely halfway to the final goal. donations have slowed down IMMENSELY.

nader’s father is recovering from surgery. there’s a 1 year old child in the family, along with multiple other children (including nader himself, who is only 17). please don’t forget about them!

donate, share, and tag your friends. please.

@mavigator @thatsonehellofabird @sharkjumpers @mysterypuppy

T Journal Entry #5

Days since start: 22

Today was the first day I noticed a change in body hair, my arm hair is thicker. It’s not like corse or anything and it’s just the ones on my forearms but god I almost cried this morning. My body hair is legit black but it’s always been so thin no one ever sees it, I hope people start seeing it now:) Other than that I can feel my voice dropping. It’s happening slowly, but it’s happening nonetheless. I can tell it’s happening most often whenever I sing, which is cool bc it makes singing some of my favorite songs easier:D Still need to learn how to pitch down for Chappell Roan though((:

On other exciting news, there’s a cougar who’s flirting with me. Like, deadass older than my mom type cougar, throwing big hints that she wants me. Part of me is being a little narcissist and not complaining. The other part of me is asking why she’s flirting with a man who’s closer in age to her teenage son than her, but I fear the narcissist is winning. Thankfully, I am a man of many hoes and there’s this really sweet dude who’s like, so so sooooo down bad for me it’s damn near adorable. Like “awwww you want me to choke you and call you a good boy so baaaad<33” type adorable. I’m just glad I have sexual relations where I can be more dom, I’ve always felt more comfortable like that:))