Quick Firestar pride icons using the alternate leader pixel on the wiki.
Feel free to use, with credit!
Quick Firestar pride icons using the alternate leader pixel on the wiki.
Feel free to use, with credit!
My hair went 📈📉📈 T has made my hair really naturally curly lmao
•Please like or reblog if saved•
Sorry That’s Weird For You III (2019)
Sorry that’s weird for you, but I’m not going to change for you.
Shop clerk: What can I do for you, sir? OH MY GOD MA'AM IM SO SORRY I
My non-binary ass: it’s ok, whatever
Clerk: NO IM REALLY SORRY MA'AM PLEASE EXCUSE ME IMSOSORRY im s o r
Me: *looks in the camera like I’m on The Office*
I was going to make a video on this, but I think it works just as well in text. So often, I’m seeing this specific type of video geared toward tearing down transgender people who “don’t pass”, are “trenders”, “faking it”, made by other trans people. I was going to go through this whole sequence of showing various people who’ve sent me pictures of themselves and spread some kindness instead, but… I think I can make a message just as powerful through my own experience.
This picture here is me, roughly 15. This is me when I felt alone, isolated, and terrified. There was no handbook for me, who came out as a trans man not long before. There were no role models for me to draw off of. For so long, I thought I was the only person who felt this way. But throughout all of my loneliness, all of my pain, I knew what I liked and I identified with those things. I loved colors, and dogs, and video games, and I thought that if I couldn’t love my body or myself, that I could cover myself in things I loved so that when I looked in the mirror, I could at least be reminded of something that made me happy.
I was so vulnerable. The fact that I even took this picture - that I still have these kind of pictures - is amazing in itself. I wasn’t handsome. I wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t uprooting the wardrobe I’d had for my entire life in one fell swoop. I wasn’t the poster-child for a magazine cover or a story of inspiration.
I was vulnerable. I was struggling to find anything, anything to figure out who I was. And people took advantage of that vulnerability. To see someone with so little self-worth, someone who felt unloved and desperate for connection, I was a goldmine for people with bad intentions. There was no one outspoken, no one with a platform, to tell me that there was a future. I spent most of my life really believing there wasn’t one.
When I look at these kind of pictures now, I see someone desperately clawing at whatever happiness he could find. I see someone strong, and brave, and creative, who hopes deep down that all of this suffering, all of this pain, will change and he can blossom into someone who loves himself. I see someone worthy of love, even if he doesn’t believe it right now. I see someone who, even though I know every single day for several years he thought of suicide, didn’t die. Who now gets to speak through me.
This is not a journey I made alone. I didn’t become confident by isolation. When I looked like this, there were people there who still never messed up. People who immediately called me the name I wanted, used the pronouns I wanted, who supported me. Supported me when I left home, supported me when I tested out new names and pronouns, supported me while I was confused, supported me regardless of what I wore. People who are still a part of my life to this day, years later. People who became my family.
Without those people, would I even be here?
If I had nothing but the things people said that hurt me so, so deeply, would I be here?
I could say that there’s no shame in loving - yourself, the world, other trans people - but there is. A culture of shame we’ve been complicit in nurturing. We are so afraid of not being accepted that we can’t see the power in what we have together. With collaboration, with understanding, with compassion, the people we see as our enemies through their presentation that society finds easy to target and laugh at and scapegoat onto… are people, people who want to experience and thrive and express themselves alongside you. They are people willing to fight for their own right to do that, and for yours. “They” are me, you, all of us. "They” are not separate.
You could argue that to navigate the internet, you need a thick skin. I can understand that putting yourself out there is an invitation for interaction, but could you imagine if the energy that went into tearing someone down went instead into possibly being the first person to ever show someone a kindness? How would it have felt for you, to be shown that kindness? To have another trans person connect with you through distance never before crossed in human history, to tell you that being alive is an important thing? To feel, for the first time in your life, that the decision you’ve made to be true to yourself despite the vulnerability was the right one?
There is only so much we can find inside of ourselves. An intrinsic motivation to strive can’t pull someone through years, even decades of social abuse. No one can do this alone. We’re human beings first, and we’re people who need people to become our best selves.
What if these role models we wish we always had were us? What if we became those people, filled the shoes that sat at the door our whole lives that never got worn by someone we could look up to? What if, through this compassion, lives got to be lived? Children got to spend less time, less years, less pain, finding out who they are? What if we went into fields we found joy in, told our stories to people of all walks of life, and bridged the gaps of misunderstanding?
I’m not worth more than any of the people around me. I’m worth just as much. I didn’t deserve life more or less than all of us do. I am not worth more because I can “pass”, I am not worth more because I suffered. I am not worth more because I conform to an image that’s easier for society to handle. Even if I hadn’t suffered at all, these words would mean the same thing. I could link a picture of how I look now to end this with, but it wouldn’t matter. How I “turned out” doesn’t matter. Whether I fit the picture of the “right” kind of transgender person is irrelevant. I am me.
And, honestly? 15 year-old me was his own person. His galaxy tights that he wore while he held a microphone and held lectures for teachers on how to keep their LGBT students safe ruled for him.
There were people who supported me who didn’t make it. People who broke through their own pain to say something kind to me when I needed it. People who I saw as brilliant, beautiful, compassionate, and worth so much more than what they got. But I’m here now, and they’re not. Not because I was worth more or deserved it more. Not because of anything I did. They were failed by systems, they were failed by people who found it easier to turn a blind eye. They were even failed by their own siblings in our communities. People failed by me. They were failed, in response to their vulnerability.
We’re always going to be a work in progress. Our ability to discuss our thoughts and actions, to express ourselves, is always a work in progress. But through our collaboration, our dialogues, there is so much potential to cut out years upon years of doubt. To live as we are most happy, to pull each other up, in doing so we pave the path for future children who get to live so much more in so much less time.
Why should we look for more ways to suffer, when every day it gets harder to find ways that we don’t have to? Why should we repeat the actions of the people before us, the people who contributed to our own pain? The people we hated?
Why would I bring more pain into this earth, mock someone’s most vulnerable, intimate, soul-searching moments, when I’ve sat on the same bridge the same way my friends, or strangers in all but our shared vulnerability, have done without ever coming back up?
Cool poster I made, free to use.
It’s been roughly 4-½ months since I started HRT and it’s been amazing ! I’m really starting to see and feel changes.
This is the first picture I like of myself with no makeup on. I have LOTS of thick dark hair and had a 5 o’clock shadow in the 5th grade …
It’s very freeing to see it receding in thickness and shaving everyday is becoming easier on my skin as I learn the best ways and the hair gets thinner and grows slower.
The mental health side of just being on HRT has been such an amazing experience. The body changes take their time but since day one I have felt my true body and mind come alive!
Fear of Music by Talking Heads is claimed by the LGBTQ+ community!
(requested by anonymous 💖 thank you!)
I don’t think the majority of cis people and even binary trans people understand what being nonbinary actually means. They may get the definition and have a surface-level knowledge of it, but that’s not the same thing.
Even after I realized I might be nonbinary, it took me a lot of work to get to a place where I could really comprehend what that meant. We’ve all been raised to see the gender binary as some innate truth, where deep down you’re one of two things, even if your body and mind experience a disconnect about it, so no longer reflexively and unconsciously gendering people as more male or more female is hard, probably even impossible for some, by no fault of their own, no matter how hard they try.
I keep seeing all kinds of posts and hearing all kinds of people talking about nonbinary people in a way that implies that, deep down, they still see us as either male or female. You know you see us this way, even if it’s unconscious. Again, it’s not your fault, but you need to work on it nonetheless. I’m not asking.
If you have any interest at all in actually supporting us and making your community truly inclusive, not just on the surface, you need to listen to nonbinary people when we talk about being nonbinary. Read the things we write about it; they’re not that hard to find. Watch videos from nonbinary YouTubers talking about it. If you have the opportunity, take a class that discusses gender and includes a section that focuses on trans and nonbinary experiences. But remember, we aren’t all the same, so don’t treat one person’s experiences as though they apply to all of us.
Don’t tell me it’s too hard. You can read for fifteen minutes here and there or watch a video on YouTube. Trying to understand our experiences so you can respect us is not a lot to ask, and you should be doing it if you call yourself an ally.
my gender is optimistic nihilism
Pidgey Icons! Transgender, Nonbinary, Genderqueer, Agender, Demigender, Bigender, Polygender, Pangender, Genderfluid, Genderflux.
Shoot me an ask if you don’t see your identity represented, or want a mix of flags!
you already know i had to do it to ‘em an get my hair entirely chopped off (ig: @artdad98)
I must keep believing that the day is coming when this is the only me that there will be. This happy, energetic woman. I look forward to that day, and hope it comes soon.
@jenniferwarner3000 @pridelasvegas 🏳️🌈🌈🏳️🌈🌈🏳️🌈 #whathaveyoudonetodaytomakeyoufeelproud 🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈 #transgender (at Las Vegas Pride Festival)
I want to get my titties out but I don’t have any titties to get out :/
My New Stuff!…Glittery gold pom-pom headband? Why, yes, of course, thank you!…
For Nonna Anna, directed by
Luis De Filippis, starring Maya Henry and