But there were no signs fluffy rambles
When I was a kid I was really into Infocom text adventures, and the game Beyond Zork had some very strong tabletop RPG elements, much moreso than other Infocom games. One of the things about it is that when you started the game you had to roll a character, and you could choose the gender of the player character.
The gender of the player character had literally no effect on the gameplay.
I always chose “female” for some reason.
But there were no signs.
I also used to be really into fighting games (Street Fighter et al), until I had to stop due to RSI issues.
I always chose the female fighters for some reason.
But there were no signs.
When I was 7 I was really into The Last Unicorn.
My parents thought I identified with Schmendrick the magician.
I identified with the unicorn.
But there were no signs.
When I was 10 and Super Mario Bros 2 came out I was infatuated with the game. Especially because the manual described Birdo as “thinking he was a girl.”
I wanted to hug her so bad, and say, “me too.”
But there were no signs.
Every time I wrote a story that had a self-insert character, it always just felt natural for that character to be a girl.
But there were no signs.
A conversation about pronouns Dream log
“So, hey, I have a friend with what I think is a pretty… unique situation. You’re pretty savvy with this pronoun stuff, right?”
“Hm, I try to be, anyway.”
“Okay, so, this friend was born male—”
“Assigned male at birth.”
“… Right. Anyway. Assigned male at birth, totally identifies as male, one hundred percent happy being male. Wears men’s clothes, uses the extremely masculine name given to them, is completely secure in her masculinity, completely normal cis man.”
“Wait, so uh… okay, ‘normal’ is loaded, but… ‘Her?’”
“Yeah, that’s the thing. She prefers to be referred to with she/her pronouns.”
“… Huh. Is there any particular… reason for that?”
“Not as far as I can tell! I’ve asked her about it and she said that she just… likes it.”
“But… …she… doesn’t identify as a woman at all?”
“Nope. And I thought that maybe she is trying to, like, normalize the idea that language is a social construct or something, or push against the idea that ‘he’ is the gender-neutral pronoun, but nope. She just likes the sound of it.”
“And you’re sure she isn’t, like, trans or anything?”
“I mean, I asked her if she feels bad being called he/him, and no, she doesn’t seem to experience dysphoria around her gender or around being called he/him. She just.. prefers she/her.”
“Huh, okay. Well, I mean, anyone can choose to have whatever pronouns they want, and we should all respect that, no matter what the underlying reason is…”
“That’s just the thing, everyone around her does respect it. Even if they’re awful about misgendering actual trans women, for some reason they’re 100% on board with using she/her pronouns for this… well, totally nor— … um, extremely cis man.”
“Aside from the pronouns.”
“Yes, aside from the pronouns.”
“Huh. Well, um… this is an interesting situation, I think, but it probably shouldn’t be interesting. It’s kind of refreshing to hear about? I mean, sort of. I wish people would respect my pronouns that easily, but…”
“Yeah, it’s like the dog thing.”
“Dog thing?”
“Y'know, how people trip over themselves to make sure that they’re using the correct pronouns for a dog? That doesn’t even know what pronouns are and doesn’t give the tiniest shit about them? While still misgendering trans people because it’s ‘so hard?’”
“Ah, yeah, that. Well. Okay. So what’s the problem your friend is having?”
“Oh, she isn’t having a problem at all. I’m just wondering, do you know what this situation would be called?”
“Sounds like she’s a… she-male?”
“…”
“Yeah, I only realized what I was saying as it was leaving my mouth.”
⭐️ The Horror
On therianthropy and plurality fluffy rambles
This entry was originally posted on Cohost, and has been migrated here in light of their shutdown.
When I was a lot younger, I was trying to figure out my identity.
Growing up in the 80s and being a teenager in the 90s was an awful time to be trans, and even though I definitely had gender feels going back early in my childhood (like, recently I remembered thinking about it when I was 7, and really into The Last Unicorn by Peter S Beagle), the environment simply wasn’t supportive back then. I got bullied for being a “sissy” and a “girl” a lot.
I was also very much into transformation-related fiction (uh, like The Last Unicorn) and along the way I decided that it would actually be easier to be an animal. This of course led directly to my later descent into furry trash.
Estradiol, patch form fluffy rambles
Back in November of 2017 I had a pulmonary embolism, the result of a DVT which was the result of a combination of risk factors. At the time that it occurred, the insistence from the hematologist was that I’d have to cease the use of estradiol entirely, and this led to the worst month of physical and mental health that I can remember. I was basically going through menopause. A month later, a different hematologist said there was no reason I couldn’t keep taking estradiol, especially since I was on a course of warfarin to clear up remaining clot.
A couple years after that I had another minor DVT, and this led to needing to be on blood thinners, so now I take Xarelto daily, and likely will for the rest of my life.
Disordered thinking fluffy rambles
I have always been a night owl. Society in general shuns the night owl; waking up early is to be praised, you’re a go-getter, you’re proactive. Waking up late means you’re lazy, you’re irresponsible. Medicine is finally waking up1 to the reality that different people have different natural sleep cycles, and this is okay, but their way of describing this is by calling the late-shift folks “delayed sleep phase disorder.”
People who are trans are told they have gender identity disorder.
People whose brains process stimulus differently and have a tendency to hyperfocus on problem-solving are told they have attention deficit disorder.
These aspects are framed as being outliers, deviations from the norm, problems to be fixed.
Disordered.
All these things that are inherent to me are framed as being problems. Things to be ashamed of. Things to cure.
But they are the things that make me who I am, and which give me strength.
Happy 2020 fluffy rambles
So, a new decade has started1. Hopefully this next one will go a lot better than the last one.
An almost miscellaneous side note fluffy rambles
This almost feels petty compared to what I wrote about last night but it’s a thing that’s been gnawing at me for quite some time, and looking at the little traces around the web of what others were saying about my partner’s death reminded me of it again. I’d mentioned it as a side note a month ago but while I’m feeling frustrated I’d might as well go into more depth.
Long transitions fluffy rambles
Tonight, my set at Song Fight! Live went really well. There were some rough patches due to the usual nature of the beast but we managed to hold it together and afterwards everyone told me how great it sounded. I’m overall happy with that.
An “interesting” thing has been happening regarding how people deal with my gender stuff lately though.