A blog of cute mischief

steal things. in minecraft.

I was wrong.

But then I met someone wonderful, who accepts people for who they are. She patiently worked on wearing away the transphobia and misogyny I had been raised under, and now I can admit to myself who ive always been, and grow more as a person.

The subject is related to me being transfem, and I am not out to anyone, so I have to avoid the topic.

And honestly, it sucks. The way people react, the way I react. It just feels mean. Like I'm at the edge of being pissed off at any moment.

I just don't want to talk about it, but how the fuck do I explain that without coming out? Because I'm not ready to come out. I'm working on it in therapy, but it's not there yet. I'm not there yet.

I got lucky, preservation instinct kicked in and I decided to talk to my wife and get some help. Life's not perfect yet, and there are still major hurdles, and im not out yet except to a very small group of trusted friends, but that group of trusted people is growing, and I feel one day it will be alright enough I'll feel like the whole world doesn't hate me. I hope this helps whoever needs to see it, and that all of us can find the support and safety we need to be ourselves completely.

And to OP, thank you for sharing your trials. It took me way to long to realize the reason I was so bitter was because I was suppressing things so hard, it sounds like youre already taking steps to work through things, something I wish I'd done when I was younger.

The Wait Is Over! Our album is slated to release towards the end of December so keep your eyes peeled!

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I learned to hate myself for being transgender before I knew I was transgender. I laughed at the jokes in stand up comedy routines, and prime time sitcoms, and animated comedy shows, and in the movies, and in books, and in games, laughing at trans women for existing, about “men in dresses”, about people who “got their dicks chopped off”, and I learned to think that was worthy of ridicule.

And then a day came when I felt a pang of envy at what my female classmates were wearing and I repressed it, and felt guilty, and a day where I felt incomplete because I had no breasts and I repressed it and I felt disgusting And a day when I realized the only images of romance that made me feel anything showed two women together and I repressed it and I felt like a monster And a day when I realized I felt sick when I looked at myself in the mirror after every shower before work and couldn’t bear to look at my own face, and I hated myself. And then there came a day when I hated myself so much, and I thought I could never understand why, and so I just wanted it all to end. And it was just a miracle that I swerved my car back into my lane in time.

And all of it started with a joke that I heard on TV, and then kept hearing from all the voices from the ether, over and over and over, worming an idea into my mind before I was old enough to realize I was absorbing it, the idea that a man in a dress is funny, and that changing your body parts makes you a freak, and that women who have penises instead of vaginas are liars and hurt men. And they’re still making these jokes. And somewhere out there right now, just like all those years ago, there is a little girl in a t-shirt and cargo shorts with buzzed off hair watching the TV, hearing that joke and absorbing it without knowing it, who will someday have to pry herself apart to tear it out of her head, just like I did.

But any time I tried to express that, I encounter rage, and revulsion. Why would I ever want to be a girl?! I was a boy! I should be happy. So I had to cope, and bury the pain and sorrow. I had to deny who I was, or it would kill me. So I started to get angry at trans women. They had what I didn't. They had the courage to be themselves. And for a long time, I was on the wrong side of the discussion.

and lots of people think this very likely,

“Oh little Sionnat has obviously been taken by the fairies and they’ve left us a Changeling Child who knows too much, and asks strange questions, and uses words she shouldn’t know, and watches everything with her big dark eyes, clearly a Fairy Child and not a Human Like Us.”

The Myth of the Changeling child, a human baby apparently replaced at a young age by a toddler who “suddenly” acts “strange and fey” is an almost textbook depiction of autistic children.

To this day, “autism warrior mommies” talk about autism “stealing” their “sweet normal child” and have this idea of “getting their real baby back” which (in the face of modern science)  indicates how the human psyche actually does deal with finding out their kid acts unlike what they expected.

But here’s the thing: life is louder, brighter and more intense and confusing than it has ever been. I live on the edge of London and I rarely go into the centre of town because it’s too overwhelming. If I went back in time and lived on a farm somewhere, would anyone even notice there was anything odd about me? No police sirens, no crowded streets that go on for miles and miles, no flickery electric lights. Working on a farm has a clear routine. I’d be a badass at spinning cloth or churning butter because I find endless repetition soothing rather than boring.

So, the reason dyslexic people are found in fewer numbers in countries with different writing systems is technically a myth. They are still there. The reason it is so highly diagnosed in English-speaking countries is because English has a terrible writing system. We reuse a ton of letters. n and u are the same letter, depending on how you were taught to write, w and m are the same letter. And the worst offender in the whole language is the letter d b p q. These really are not different shapes, just different orientations. How does this applies to dyslexia, you ask? Dyslexia is a nuerodivergence in visual perception. The majority of people see information and process it in a linear fashion, starting at the beginning of a line and following through till it ends. Dyslexics process information in a 3D way, backwards, forwards, top to bottom. Every time they look at something. So when they see dbqp on the page, they're brains go, why are there four identical shapes on this page? It massively amplifies the difficulty in reading. But in languages like Japanese or Chinese you have characters like 私 and 僕, very dissimilar in visual appearance. Its much harder to get that confused.

Now for the super power. Dyslexic have a higher tendency to enter into the trades, working in jobs that require geometry and 3D thinking, the work as carpenters and welders, and even as engineers and architects, because dyslexia isn't a disability, it's a variation in brain function that does have useful properties, it just makes our ill-thought writing system problematic.

Now the tie-in, our world, our modern world, obviously needs autistic people, it needs that kind of focus to achieve tasks that nobody else wants to or can care about. Autistic hyper-focus has brought us leaps in the sciences, in math and computer systems. It has enriched the world with so much. Dyslexia has built us homes and workplaces, and massive structures that are artwork in and of themselves, like museums and skyscrapers.