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I'm moving to Seattle. Yeah yeah, I've been saying this for like 15 years now, but it's finally happening. I've already given notice for my current lease to move into a flexible living situation - and put in my extended notice at work. I was going to hold off announcing this until I had a ticket in hand, but with my timetable being 'between Febrary and June, maybe?', I thought it best to let everyone know now.

It's terrifying, yet exhilarating standing on the cusp of the unknown knowing in my heart this freefall is the right decision whilst my brain frantically claws at the vestiges of comfort and security. I've felt this sensation before when I finally accepted that I had to transition. Similarly, this is going to be hard - more so than I currently realize - but it's also the necessary step to me living a better life.

So...why? Why Seattle? It's just a change in setting; all the problems I'm currently saddled with will persist along with new ones. Seems short-sighted, looking to the future through the lens of fog-shrouded glasses.

But am I really? This has been on my radar since I was 16; literally half a lifetime ago. I've always dreamed of travel and living somewhere outside North Carolina - unfortunately mental illness and poverty weighed down those aspirations. It's only been in the past couple years that I've reached a point of maturity and healing that I've felt empowered enough to make this a reality. Empowered enough to own and chase my dreams. Which is what this move is all about. We'll start with those.

Seattle brings me the resources to finish my transition. I've been on HRT for over 12 years now, had multiple surgeries, and live as stealth as possible (which means I am preceived as a cis woman in my day-day life). Unfortunately there are loose ends I have to tie up - loose ends that are very expensive and require skilled providers who just don't exist in North Carolina. I will always be trans - and while that may not be the life I wished for, there is still a future where it doesn't preclude me from having a meaningful, fulfilling, dare-I-say-happy life. To do that, I have to be honest about my needs and make the necessary adjustments (realizing the unfortunate reality about being a binary trans woman is I'll never be able to mitigate the dysphoria entirely). Seattle has the resources I need to do that. Seattle also has a social climate far more inclusive of people like me. I don't want to live a double life any longer. I want to be loved and accepted for everything I am - including the T. Someday maybe I'll even find a partner.

Seattle has more varied income opportunities. I don't want to work in retail forever - ideally, I'd like to get out of the industry within the next 5 years. I also don't believe a linear career path is a viable model for me moving into the future. There are several interests I could develop into sources of income in lieu of the soul-sucking 9-5 grind - and this gives me the ability to diversity my skillset (and education 'cause I still believe in getting a college degree) to better sustain the lifestyle I desire (which admittedly is a bit bougie). Some things are just pipe dreams like fitness modeling - but even if it's just one unpaid shoot, I'd love to say I did it.

Seattle has more resources in line with my interests. We're talking apparel fabrication, acrobatics, singing, backpacking, all iterations of bikes, and pole dancing (whoops, did I type that? 🤫). There also are safer spaces for me to participate in those things (if you've had your head in the sand the past few years, the climate for a trans woman wanting to do anything sport-adjacent is a noxious inferno - one of the main reasons I've disappeared from the gym scene here).

Seattle isn't a blistering hellscape for half the year. I'm the variety of white that is physically incapable of tanning and feels physical pain while out in the sun. I get seasonally depressed in NC because outside of November-February (maybe March), I feel like I'm dying whenever I go outdoors - and going outdoors is such a vital part of my mental health! Yes, climate change has been screwing with the weather patterns in the PNW (not to mention fires), but I'd still take that over the impending dread I feel for summer in North Carolina. Grey, rainy, and cool is my weather ideal 🌫

I have close family and friend ties in Seattle. I'm not jumping in completely blind - of all the cities in the US outside of Durham, Seattle is the one where I have the most connections.

It's a chance to start a new chapter of my life. I've lived in NC since I was 5 and there are views and attitudes others hold of me that aren't reflective of the person I am today. My parents - whom I love dearly - are included in this. I want to spread my wings, unrestricted by the confines of my past failures. It's terrifying, but I need to prove to myself that I can fly.

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So...yeah. This is happening. To my friends and family in NC - I love you, I'll miss you, I'll be back to visit. I promise. Thanks for being a star in my constellation; you've made my life a brighter place ✴

To my lovely humans in the Seattle metro - message me!!

...Oh, and my Canadian peeps get ready, 'cause Edmonton is next on the visit list!

was not the sentence I was hoping to break my hiatus with here. Unfortunately I can't think of one more fitting. It's no great secret that I'm a walking ball of barely-constrained anxiety. Ever since I was single digits old, every waking day has been a slug-fest trying between me and my idiot brain just to breathe, much less carve out a meaningful existence. My default ways of dealing with this have ranged from the decidedly-unhelpful hurting myself to the more debately-unhelpful lifting heavy stuff until I cry to the current burying myself and my problems under a veritable avalanche of work. None of those tactics makes the anxiety go away, but they all quiet it just enough that I can assume the facade of being a normal human. Which is addicting. Kid me didn't realize the future she was in for when she prayed every night to be different and special; dudebro in the sky has a helluva sense of humor.

The point I'm dallying around is I invest a lot of time in managing my anxiety. To the extent that, whether conscious or not, it's literally dictated the trajectory of my life. I've known this for years, but am obstinately loathe to admit it, instead trying to find pride in whatever tangent du jour I happened to be galavanting away on in lieu of the more direct (and difficult) path toward my goals and dreams. And while those tangents have not been entirely fruitless, it doesn't take much introspection to realize I'm dancing in circles. So when I crash, burn, and am stripped of my distractions, forced to stare up at my bedroom ceiling while Covid ransacks my lungs....here I am.

I sort of know what I have to do. Gone are the days where I pretended I was fine because I didn't want to lock away opportunities behind the stigma of "I'm mentally ill". It still hurts to be treated like a freak, but my future is hindered more by each passing day of pretending I'm fine whilst tripping over my own feet.

1) I need a therapist. A good one. I need to figure out how to afford seeing them on a regular (probably weekly) basis. I need to be open to medication. I can't let my fear and traumatic past experiences dictate my decisions.

2) I need to acknowledge I can't do this alone. I need to invest in building a group of friends I can intimately trust to be my support network; I need to allow myself vulnerability.

3) I need to be candid about my goals, their priority, and the stepping stones I must take to reach them.

4) I need to be willing to make sacrifices and take risks. I want to please everyone and I end up pleasing no one...especially myself.

5) I need to be mindful and accepting of my own limitations. I've been blessed(?) with millennia of peasant rock farmer genetics, but my brain can't take the same abuse as my body. I'm a creative, I'm sensitive, I'm fragile. That's not something to be ashamed of; the prize for successfully mashing a square peg into a round hole is a broken puzzle piece.

Made by my dear friend E as a surprise "I'm sorry you have Covid, here are some Megascops buddies to keep you company" gift.

...wait, a DECADE?!? Fuck me, guess I'm an Oma now. Get off my lawn, whippersnappers! Anyway, here's a sorta recent selfie I don't hate to update anyone still following me. I've come a long way ✌🏻

It’s been like 8 months since my last post…a lot has happened.

- I joined a Crossfit gym in March which gave me much-needed structure to my life.

- I became close friends with one of my coworkers from Tilthy Rich (the bicycle - powered compost delivery job I worked) and we started dating a month and a half later. It was short-lived, but those two weeks were wonderful. I miss her.

- I founded a trans initiative in my city after HB2 happened (I live in bathroom bull ground zero). I moderate bi-weekly meetings and we also have a seasonal clothing swap, youth trans group, and community social events. I’m very honored to be a part of it all.

- I have a surgery consult in November with Dr. Spiegel. I’m relocating to Massachusetts around the same time. Farewell North Carolina…you may have shitty politics, but you’ll be in my heart forever.

- I had a string of injuries related to overworking myself culminating in breaking my arm after passing out from exhaustion on my bike. Medical bills have been difficult to manage and I’ve been living off $6 a day for awhile now.

- The basement sucked. And it flooded…I lost about half of my belongings. But I moved into a group house which has been the most positive living experience I’ve ever had.

- My bike was stolen a month ago. I’ve been walking everywhere since and am using open shop time at a local bike co-op to slowly assemble another one.

- After two months of training, I qualified for my city’s olympic weightlifting team. I train 5 days a week and is always the highlight of my day. It feels amazing to be an athlete again.

- I lost my father. I finally stood up for myself and in a group therapy session told him I wasn’t going to medicate myself to placate him. He hasn’t spoken to me since.

Been very quiet lately on the personal front, but here’s a quick synopsis of life events over the past few months. - Moved out (this time for good) to a small efficiency apartment in a city about an hour away from my former location - Quit Whole Foods after 2 years in favor of a purchasing position at a co-op market (I’m the bulk and coffee buyer) - Took a side job as a paid cyclist hauling compost. For $13 an hour. Best job ever - Started lifting again. Gainz have been made. Aaaand so have injuries. - Goals for this year include getting my license as a personal trainer and surgery. Surgery is still an expense beyond my means working without a college degree, but I refuse to let that goal go. - Pushing through a serious depression relapse lasting several months. Things are getting better. - Been attending NAMI (mental illness) support sessions and generally just trying to push myself out into new settings and meet new people as much as possible. - Life is hard, but it’s good :)