kat

Now, I turn 31 in about a week.

I sing in my car at night to the angsty mixed CDs I made as a teenager, but now with a voice that I can feel rumble in my chest precisely where that heavy feeling used to sit like a bag of concrete.

My beard tickles as it blows in the wind, and my lungs are so full because they are no longer bound.

I sing, and I drive home after kissing someone goodnight who sees every part of all that I am and all I am not and does not flinch.

I go to bed sober.

And everything is not okay. But everything is better.

And I wasn't supposed to be here anymore, after I tried putting myself back in the closet very literally and permanently that October over 10 years ago.

But sometimes belts break. Knots give way.

And now here I am.

Driving and singing, as loud as I can.

Young trans guys, it is absolutely imperative that you stay alive.

Terraced hillsides are seen in the Douro Valley of northern Portugal. The steep slopes are covered with of grape vines that rise from the Douro River below. The region is recognized as the home of port wine - a sweet, red wine that is often served with dessert.

41.167121280°, -7.773068522°

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remember kids