b4mymindmolders

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Take Your Makeup to Work Day

I was today years old when I realized I could just wait to put on my makeup AFTER I get to work and completely avoid the anxiety of either my Lyft driver being a secret transphobic serial killer or having my makup run after walking 10 miles in the 80 degree convection oven that is South Carolina. I feel like such an adult right now and I'm over fucking 30.

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Transitional Sexuality

I felt that this topic deserved it's own entry:

When I was a teen who had already made it past enjoying porn for the pure novelty of it, I discovered that the only way I could place myself within the world of what I was watching was as the women in the scenes. It wasn't because I was attracted to men, either, since I tried gay porn and found it entirely repulsive (unless one of the men was an extremely fem bottom).

This was the only way I could fantasize about sex until actually experiencing it. Over this time I got into increasingly BDSM content but all through the perspective of the woman (the sub). I believe now that this interest was at least partially my desire to fulfil the role of a woman manifesting through my budding sexuality. I then had a long decade of increasingly desperate phases of increasing interest in being dominant as I was realizing how much I genuinely wanted to be a woman until I came out to myself. Since then my interest in playing a dom has completely melted away but it hasn't been replaced a totally submissive mindset. Now when I think of sex or dating I mostly think of a quaint and sweet time with a girlfriend. If I try I can imagine getting picked up by some guy for a one night stand or something but that's about it. I always assumed sexuality was something most people worked out by their mid 20's but I could be evolving until death at this point. I just hope if I realize I'm asexual or aromantic it's BEFORE I never find a partner.

This is stupid. Why am I typing all of this for no one?

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To be a Teen Again

I have heard that trans people experience a "second puberty" but I always assumed they were talking about the experience of going through HRT. I wasn't expecting it to genuinely feel so much like being a teen again.

I feel totally uncomfortable in my body again as I reintroduce myself to the more feminine way of carrying myself that I spent my entire teens unlearning. I'm whole heartedly jumping into new interests and online communities (both related and unrelated to my identity). I'm doing incredibly cringy shit like painting my nails alternating pink and blue (ok, this one is because I can't bring myself to verbally come out to more people who know me so I'm dropping the biggest hint I can think of).

My voice sounds horrible again as I can't bring myself to commit to a much more feminine voice in public but too dysphoric to go back to chest voice so I just perpetually sound like a teenaged boy mid voice drop. On a positive note, though, is that I have started incorporating daily hygiene habits that I (and most men, I assume) had completely neglected such as more consistently shaving and moisturizing or washing my face at night instead of only in the morning.

And I feel really fucking good sometimes.

I also deal with constant fear and doubt and wicked dysphoria but I had all of that before. At least now I get to feel good. Sometimes.

This wasn't supposed to be yet another transition journal on tumblr. I started this blog literally right before I came out to myself but my life is the topic and, well, this is my life now.

Ps: This also feels similar to being a teen in that I've once again found myself with no one that I know in real life who can understand or guide me through this. I know how to fix this but I hated entering new spaces before there was a higher than average risk of dying from covid for it.

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Step 1: Nail Color

I'm sitting here on the twin bed of the kitty litter and cat fur covered guest bedroom of my friend and her partner. I've been crying all day and am now drinking wine while admiring the terrible job I've done of painting my nails for the first time. Well, not truly the first time, as I've painted the nails of my right hand with clear hardener long ago when I first started studying classical guitar.

This coat, however, is the most lovely shade of powder(?) blue that I could find at the CVS whilst freshly body shaven and drenched in sweat from the long walk there. At first I desperately wanted out of the isle before someone saw my still masculine..ish presenting self grabbing nail polish and lip gloss. In my haste I noticed that I was only grabbing the first of two or three "steps" to great nails on the shelf. First is the colour, then the clear coat, and I didn't even bother to see what came next as the one bottle alone was $14.

After applying the first coat on my toes and finger nails I closed the bottle and spread my fingers to look at the results and became legitimately winded from emotions. The most accurately I can describe the experience is an overwhelming feeling of shock at how euphoric this simple change felt. They are horribly done but if I take off my glasses and stretch my hand out all the way they look pretty great!

I've seen men, who in every other possible way present cis and hetero, wearing nail polish before. I assume is was spawned by some online movement in solidarity with the queer community or something. The point, though, is that I would see them and see men with nail polish on. When I looked at my own hands I saw a woman's hands. Since the day I came out to myself (about 2 weeks now) and after spending almost every night and morning thinking about how ugly and hairy I am and how I'm just increasing my chance of suffering horribly to the hands of bigots for nothing. Tonight for the first time I feel like a woman.

I feel so happy but in the way that isn't just fleeting.

I keep thinking about how I'm going to hide this from my family but the further I go the more I'm realizing that I've finally found the thing I'm willing to risk excommunication to obtain. The further I go the more obvious it is becoming to me that hiding this for even a few months will take all of my will.

I can never go back now

Ps: I also blindly picked out a non-clear lip gloss while at the store. When I got back and put it on I was so lucky to have picked one that worked perfectly with my skin colour! It would appear that lip glosses do more to highlight the lips with a color instead of painting them in one as with lipstick. I do really want to try on a bold red lipstick but I must take my time and wait. The image of a far more fem (and HRT assisted) me with my hair grown out, cute outfit of whatever flavour, and bright red lipstick fuels me to follow this through.

Pss: The entire reason I went to the store was because I was extremely depressed after the terrible experience trying to call the only trans friendly counseling center within reasonable range that my employer's contract company recommended within the city. Now I need to make an entry explaining that. I'm glad I'm getting the motivation to actually use this blog instead of just telling these stories to my only friend like I always have.

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Do autistic kids "grow out" of their autism? Why does it sometimes seem like there are so few autistic adults?

For Autism Acceptance Month, I covered this topic in this comic to help explain this disconnect! YouTube | TikTok | Instagram | Twitter

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(text, images):

(Journal.entry = (type = preface; log = 0;)

{

On my walk to the public library I discovered a park. I believe it is Finnley(?) Park. I love the sound and site and smell of moving bodies of water surrounded by nature, whether artificially installed to the landscape or otherwise. It's right next to the library I'm amazed to have only now found it.

I've also never posted about myself so candidly like this to any form of social media without a crippling anxiety hanging over every letter and spelling or grammatical error.

I feel so happy

I feel free, but only tentatively; as if it were a helium balloon only loosely held by a hand your not entirely sure is your own.

I'm sad now.

The cool camera effects made me happy again.

I have the mind of a child

I can't possibly take care of myself

I'm hungry

Time to keep moving

I love living and I love people even though my brain makes it so hard to do either so often.

Ok now keep moving.

};)