This comic from Lilo the Autistic Queer (@A_Silent_Queer on Twitter) made me smile today. There is no one way to look trans, and no one way to transition. However you choose to express your authentic self is good and doing what makes you happy regardless of what cis people think is good.
Murderbird is a four beaked monstrosity with wire thin legs and a wilted flower growing out of his head.
I’m not sure if Murderbird appeared after my brain injury or if that just make him more apparent.
He comes to me when I want to murder someone or set their house on fire or get all their friends to disown them, but I can’t do that because that would make me a bad person.
To be clear: I’m bad a being a person, but I’m not a bad person.
This is the story of my woke-ass coworker, Rick. Rick is liberal (for Oklahoma) and very proud of it. But the last few days he has been misgendering me.
Rick: [Talking about me in front of me] She just really likes to--
Me: He.
Rick: What?
Me: You said she.
Rick: I’m so sorry.
Not yet, Murderbird. I got this. Everybody makes mistakes. I misgender myself sometimes, too.
Me: It’s okay. No big deal.
--
It happens again that day, and after I correct him, he has this tragic look on his face.
Rick: [Stepping close to me] I’m better than this.
Hold off, Murderbird.
Me: It’s okay.
--
The next day it happens again, and I’m thinking, Bro (he always says bro. He’s a bro-liberal), just stop talking about me in the third person, and this won’t keep happening.
Me: He. My pronouns are he/him.
Not yet, Murderbird. I can handle this. I can. I can’t afford to murder someone at work. This time he says:
Rick: I’m sorry. I corrected someone else a few days ago, and somehow I got mixed up.
I guess he expected a medal? Or a high-five? Like I should be so grateful he was correcting other people that I’d like his shit slide.
I didn’t murder him. I did throw a wadded up piece of paper at him. He laughed but looked suitably chastised.
--
But y’all, it happened again that SAME day.
Rick: She blah blah blah.
And there was no hiding it. No holding back. Murderbird was here.
I smacked Rick (light-ishly) with my notebook and said,
Me: You suck so bad right now. [strained laughter and an eye twitch]
It. Felt. So. Good.
Until he started moping, and I had to comfort him.
Rick: I’m just so disappointed in myself.
Fine. Be disappointed in yourself, bro-liberal. I want to Murderbird you.
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