#rainrambles

another year of nominal "adulthood" for me, and it doesn't fit at all, the amount of responsibilities that i have to face crushes me little by little each day. i don't know what my life will be like in a year, much less a decade, because i still don't know who i am. my sense of self is faltering and my thoughts slip through a sieve no matter how much i try, and i don't think it was always like this.

no doubt i've broken in some way. my passion is barely there, and almost every day i'm longing after Past Me, Past Me who could write and ramble and feel joy in the things she loved. Past Me who got out of bed in five minutes and didn't have to worry about bills or housing or making choices of her own. Past Me who had a guilt complex over failing grades, who was too afraid to paint her nails, who never thought she'd make it past eighteen.

why do i idolize her, try to make myself her, when she'd be starstruck over the simple act of my continued existence? things were so much worse for her then, and although she seemed to possess more strength than i ever will i tell myself that's not true because i still have that strength in making it this far. yet i still miss those days. maybe i never got to grow up in the way i wanted and that's why i give the terrible memories of adolescence - that prison i needed to escape from - so much disproportionate value. maybe i buried it all then and the ramifications are only unearthing themselves now. that sounds about right.

It wasn’t as hard as my mind made it out to be. This had been some insurmountable obstacle in the back of my mind, terrifyingly beautiful and imposing, whispering to me every time I looked at myself in the mirror. This isn’t you. This wasn’t who you were supposed to be. The possibility haunted me, followed me to the morning light piercing pouring out the windows. To the warm water of the shower as I huddled into my knees trying to cry. To the quiet space of my cocoon of blankets at 3 in the morning, music drifting from my headphones three feet away. It didn’t really leave me. I just distracted myself because I… didn’t believe I knew how it could feel to be me. But when I finally made the decision it didn’t take me long to get everything sorted out. In that way I’m lucky.

But listen: you don’t need to be fully confident in yourself to do this. You’re never going to be ready. There’s never going to be a perfect time. But you have to be kind to yourself. You have to give yourself the chance that she deserves. I know it’s really scary. But you can do this. I believe in you, wholeheartedly.

And if you’re not ready yet, or if you can’t afford to yet, or if you’re still questioning, that’s ok. See how it feels. For me the little changes were really everything. Shaving my legs and arms, trimming my brows, trying on makeup, and most of all painting my nails - all these little things have improved me in my mind significantly. You don’t have to do any of this to be a trans woman, to present feminine at all, but if you want to or you’re even just unsure you should try it out for a little. The most important thing? Love your own body, your expression, based on your own standards and no one else’s. Do what speaks to you and only you. 

It's funny that as a writer, I like making characters with so many vast perspectives and so many emotions, and then in real life I'm... this awkward person who eats and sleeps and goes to school and doesn't contribute much. Seriously I don't have a single thought in my head. When someone asks me to explain something I'm so scatterbrained and can't really put it into words well

Otherwise showing emotion online is just so difficult. Big jump but do you ever feel like your personality is a fabrication, but you can't express yourself naturally either, so you're stuck typing every word over and over until it "fits you well enough?" And tone tags can help but still don't always convey things well or make your sentences sound less, I don't know, rigid and artificial

and the remaining 5% is introspective ramblings on mental health

We’re on the last leg for Chapter Six, guys, I swear. Final edits, beta approval, and then it’s all yours.