You know being transmasc after a life of growing up as the sole "girl" in male-dominated areas gives you a weird and complicated relationship with gender identity.
Like... being told straight to your face, "you're naturally bad at this cause you're a girl", "you're naturally weaker cause you're a girl", "you can act tough but you'll always just be a girl", "stop acting like you can keep up with the men", and even the well-intentioned, "Yeah women are like that, but you don't count, you're basically one of the boys"...
It leads you to this weird space where it's like. "Fuck you, women kick ass," and then busting yourself up to prove that you, a woman, *can* keep up, and not only keep up but do it better than anyone else, and taking pride in your femininity because it's not a fucking weakness, but at the same time knowing that... You're not a woman.
You're not a woman. You're not a girl. People just see tits and curves and decide that nature made you delicate, and then all of a sudden it's your responsibility to prove that you're not fucking weak, women aren't weak, while also saying, "I'm not a woman, though."
It's... bizarre.
I'm not a girl. But so long as I'm interpreted as one, I'm still gonna be held back by the same stereotypes. But if I ever stop being interpreted as one, then all the hard fucking work I put in to excel in my field is going to go down the toilet as "just something you can do because you're a man".
And fuck that. That's stupid, too. Guys shouldn't have their effort taken for granted like that, and it stings extra hard because you remember people just naturally assuming you suck and earning respect only to lose it immediately the second you step over to the "man" side. Because you've worked your whole life for something that as a man you'd just be expected to have naturally.
You SEE that shit staring you in the face, and worst of all people still walk around you in plain view and still talk about how women can't do shit and conveniently forget that you've BEEN ONE. "Because you were a man all along" or "because you overcompensate to prove yourself", whatever they think of to justify the cognitive dissonance that keeps their narrative going.
Nobody seems to consider that I'm not really different from women OR men, because those differences don't exist.
I'm not "naturally better" than women because I don't identify as one, and I'm not "worse than" men because I wasn't assigned the title by a third party. I'm just a person. We're all just people.
I'm just tired, man.
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i think you’re pretty — trent alexander-arnold ₊˚ෆ
🍓 hana’s notes: in ma feels again (shocker) haven’t written anything in a while so please be nice <3
disclaimers: lil drabble, cliffhanger (you have been warned!) reader is a little insecure, but reader can pull girls and guys, childhood bestfriends my beloved trope 🫶 || main masterlist
“Wait, actually? You don’t think people think you’re pretty?”
You don’t even know how the conversation ended up on this topic. Sitting at the balcony catching up with Trent after you moved away. Now, he’s a big shot footballer and you’re working to get your degree.
Fifteen year old you guys would be proud.
You shook your head, it's not a new thought for you, “Nah, but that’s okay though. I think I’m pretty, but I don’t know if I am someone’s hallway crush or people just look at me and think — Wow, pretty.”
This is the type of stuff that you only spill on your diary, but it’s Trent, and he knows more about you than you do yourself.
It’s not something new you have come to terms with, after seeing most of your friends' getting crushes, getting hit on, going on dates and having relationships except you, you have made peace with it.
Trent’s forehead creases, as if the statement offended him more than you, “That’s crazy, tha’” Trent could not believe what you just said. You? Not pretty? Are you insane?
Turning your head to face him, you warmly smiled, “Don’t pretend, T.” and when you look at Trent, taking in his features, now this is pretty. “You’re pretty. People think you’re pretty.”
You didn’t know why you decided to say that. Maybe because the moonlight illuminates his skin and eyes, making him shine a little bit brighter. Butterflies swarm your belly, as your hand sweats.
Trent’s cheeks went warm, he thinks he’s the luckiest person ever to get compliment from you. His heart aches for you, but he decided to focus on the task at hand first.
"That's stupid." he spat out, making your eyebrows shoot up.
You lightly chuckled, "Excuse you? I just gave you a compliment."
"Not that." he sighed, turning his body around so that it would be face to face with yours. You noticed the disturbed look in his eyes, as you straightened your back before meeting his gaze.
"It's not that serious T, I'm fine." you assured him, an awkward laugh bubbling out. This took a serious turn, and you have no idea why.
"Do you remember James? In 8th grade?"
You furrowed your eyebrows, "The one that gave me chocolate? Yeah, what about him?"
He took a deep breath, "He said, and I quote, that when you laugh, he can honestly melt because you look so pretty.”
"We were kids, sometimes kids just say stuff-"
"And I agreed with him, and I said that making you laugh is probably one of the most rewarding things I can do because I love seeing you smile so much. You look so pretty when you laugh like nobody's around."
Your heart stuttered, but before you said anything else he continued, "And remember the girl that you worked with at the cafe down the road? The one with curly hair?"
You nodded your head.
"When I was waiting for you to finish your shift, she noticed how much I was looking at you, and she said that she gets it, and that it's sometimes hard to focus on making the drinks because you would look so pretty smiling while taking people's orders."
You cleared your throat, “That’s- That’s very nice of her.” avoiding the words that makes you question you and Trent’s friendship.
His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, making your eyes focus on it, “Sometimes I look at you and I go blank because of how pretty you are.”
What the fuck? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.
Your eyes searched for his, but he pointedly avoided it, choosing to stare down on his hands.
After finishing the story, Trent bellowed out a laugh, "You know how many people ask me for your number because they think that you're pretty?" he paused, "But they backed away because they 'know' that you're already someone's because of how I look at you."
Your mouth gaped open and close like a fish, slowly processing everything that he's telling you. "What?"
"They said that I look at you like I was smitten. Like I was in love." you were sure your pulse stopped for a second, hearing the guy that you had a crush on for years saying stuff you hear in songs.
Trent’s mouth was faster than his brain, he really should have stopped talking, but he couldn't. All of his words were all vomiting out of his mouth. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest.
"And then I said that if I was going to fall in love with anyone that I'd want it to be you."
hehe love yall <3
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I see a lot of posts about "Stop dating people while you're damaged, heal yourself first" which can be all well and good
But
Stop choosing damaged people if you aren't ready to be with a damaged person. They tell you they've been cheated on and struggle with trust? Don't be with them if it would be an issue to help heal them.
They tell you they've been hit a lot and raised voices gives them a panic attack? Don't be with them if you're going to be upset over them crying when you throw a fit and start yelling over losing a game .
They tell you they need a lot of physical affection, or less physical affection, due to trauma? If you can't understand or deal with that, they aren't for you.
And you also never have to stay. Period.
But stop choosing people with damage if you're going to be mad at them for being damaged. As long as they're trying to heal, you can either be there or not, but don't blame them when they tell you exactly what you're getting into.
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