I've finally reached my funding goal and took the next step in my quest for boob removal!!! Just waiting to hear if my insurance accepts the request, I'm so nervous! Wish me luck 🤞
Hearing people call me my correct pronouns when I'm not even in the same room makes me so damn happy. I was having such a terrible morning and now nothing can stop me!
fyi KT tape comes off much easier with rubbing alcohol than with oil. I never hear anybody suggest this online but i do it all the time! alcohol is a solvent ✌
Ooh thank you so much for the tip! I'll give it a shot tomorrow!
I used to daydream about living in an overgrown plant house like arrietty, and having a room that was a cave of magical and occult items like howl, and boy I'm almost there
Any witches, wizards, or other magic users have any good spells or potions for boob removal? I don't have any gold but I'll lend you my services as an ingredient fetcher!
I've been thinking about my past and my relationship with my parents a lot recently, and I just wanted to get this off my chest. I don't think I've told anyone my full coming out story before so here goes. (Trigger warning: super shitty parents)
I remember elementary school. Almost all of my friends were boys because I just didn't feel like I could relate with many of the girls. My least favorite colors were purple and pink, not because I didn't actually like the colors, but because they were 'girly' colors (so dumb). I hated that my parents wouldn't let me get my hair cut short like the other boys, and I absolutely hated being called a girl.
On to middle school. I had finally made friends with a group of girls much to the delight of my parents. I wasn't doing good in classes though, so about halfway through middle school I was transferred to a private school. It was heaven to me. I think almost all of my friends there were lgbtq, and taught me a lot of the things about my gender and sexuality that my parents were hiding from me. Around this time I started to go through puberty, much to my horror and disgust. I started binding with ace bandages and compression tops.
Around that time was the first time I remember trying to come out to my parents. I don't remember what I said, I think I wanted to tell them about a crush I had on one of my friends, who was also afab. I just remember their response, to tell me that my friends were a bad influence on me, and that I needed to stay away from them. After that they started limiting how much time I was allowed to be out of the house, so I wouldn't be able to spend my free time with my friends.
I made it through somehow, on to high school. I stayed close with some of those friends from middle school, but my parents were pressuring me more and more to stay away from them. I still wasn't allowed to get my hair cut, and was very limited in what clothes I could wear.
I tried coming out to my parents again, this time more about my gender. I was sick of the girly clothes and wanted short hair. That summer, they sent me to a 'wilderness adventure therapy camp'. I don't want to talk about it here and now but it fucking sucked and as a result I was diagnosed with c-ptsd. I was flown directly from the camp to my new high school, a boarding school in Michigan.
Over the next few years I struggled, trying to convince myself that I wasn't who I was. In my last year of high school my boyfriend bought me a binder as a surprise, and that when I started to really identify as transgender. The next two years I was on and off about my identity, sometimes I'd ask people to use the right pronouns for me, but for the most part I had given up hope.
Finally, 2019. I'm not sure why or what prompted it, but I was finally fed up with my body. I cut my hair short, bought a bunch of binders, and I don't think I've gone outside without presenting male or nonbinary since then. I managed to get my hopes too high though, when I told my mother that I wanted top surgery. I was just trying to be polite, and ask permission to use their insurance, but I should have just done it without asking.
I will be moving across the country next year, and soon after that I'll be getting top surgery and a legal name change. I'll probably try coming out to my parents one last time after that, and it's up to them to decide if they want to be a part of my new life or not. I'm not letting them shove me back into the closet any more.
Putting this out there for whoever else needs to hear it (and for myself)
Blood relations don't mean shit. Just because someone gave birth to you doesn't give them the right to dictate the rest of your life. It doesn't give them the right to force you to be someone you aren't just because it makes them a little uncomfortable.
kaledo-art
turnnoffyourmind
blakekathryn
