A Disabled Trans Woman Comes to Terms with Her Disability and Her Queerness
I don't know what I'm going to use this for, don't know if I'm going to write five words or five thousand.
It's a damned sight easier to write than it is to talk or, weirdly, think these days. In addition to everything else that I can't ignore anymore, the stutter that I had on occasion pop up when I was stressed just lives with me now.
I need a space to be able to come to terms with what I've lost, what I've gained and what I never had and was never going to have. To understand what was and wasn't in my control. And, hopefully, to work towards some kind of peace.
I'll be 37 next year and I am so, so fucking tired.













