I feel like not enough people talk about the overwhelming grief that comes with being transfem. The grief that punches through your ribcage and hammers on your heart and won't ever stop because in feeling like yourself, you're also doomed to be so alone.
The world demands a perfect performance of trans women, but no one can be perfect forever. And so you lose everything and everyone, over and over again because youre in that group of societies favorite outcasts and it Hurts. But you tell yourself that it could be worse. You could still be who you were before you realized.
But that doesn't stop the grief of all that loss from swallowing you whole. And it doesn't stop you from needing connection (for long, at least) but there's no connection to find. And so you sit there and you grieve, and you hurt and sob, until it gets to be to much and now those trusted few are grieving you, too.
And fuck, we all need less grief in our lives so please, please, PLEASE hug your trans friends for me today. Send that wierd, off-putting girl a hug emoji, tell her you think of her. Ask your old friend that you don't talk to anymore to hang out again sometime.
Love EVERY trans woman you meet before it's too late.
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"lol im technically still a virgin😝" tell me please what counts as sex. when is the ritual really complete? when you recite the ancient text and drink from the blessed goblet? When you release the gods from their iron prisons just to kill them again like the men before you? When you walk across the burning tars of hell and roll their heavy hearts back up to the mortal plain? when you come back different, wisened by the unbearable weight of a world that no longer sees you as pure? Did they tell you you would never be the same? Would they see the tar on the bottom of your shoe and recognize it as the same that their mothers and fathers before them painted them with? Would they taste the shame in the air that they had bathed you in? Would they tell you you had killed something holy?
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