There is so much to unpack related to my HRT experience it’s incredibly overwhelming.
But today I remembered something about the first time someone noticed me in public from my fashion posts and blogs. I literally was the definition of rolled outta bed, bitch slapped and told to get it together. Kicked out the door to do whatever thing was being done that day. 😅 alright, that’s overdramatic obviously but how it FELT for me was very that. lol, and for what?
Because for me, it was the first time I recognized or actually thought anything worth while of my influence online at the time. Not that I was heavily engaging many folks, but enough for someone from my small town to notice. It was pressure like I had never experienced before and I hated to love it. Loved the reach I was pulling but hated the negative recognition it was brining to me in my deeply southern small town. I was terrified to put it simply. I was the definition of THAT gay that’s gonna get it, for being utterly incapable of NOT being the flamboyant and flashy gender bending queer I am. So what do I do? Double down on the gay of course. 🤣 Do yall even remember the shit that did numbers here on tumblr before I even called myself a fashion blogger. Girl the height of the look wasn’t even THRIFTED okay. No. It was a 3 sizes too small Christmas sweater from the fricken 80’s my boss at ole salon centric gave me as a sort of haha mystery Santa Gift. I’m not kidding I have the proof. 🤣🤣🤣
You see them sleeves hardly pulled up or how the fit is basically a crop top?? Oh girl. And this was my first triple digit post here on tumblr that spread on its own accord to other platforms. The other fun part of this is you wouldn’t know it but I’m in the middle of Downtown in Atlanta and walked my fine ass right the hell up the steps of the GIANT church next door to SCAD Atlanta where my husband was attending college. He took this photo of me, the dang love of my life still today 12 years later I tell you. 🥰
So unpacking this HRT…. Well gwurl, I’m scared again. I’m excuse my french toast fucking terrified. Cause it’s MESSY my loves, but, with tears in my eyes do I have a story to tell. No blame to place or shame in my heart, but oh the lessons I’ve learned. The most valuable lesson being that I’ve had the body I was supposed to have all along, but only my experience on HRT could have taught me that. I said it before, I’m saying it now and I’ll likely say it some more in the future.
I’m not a woman, I am not a man. I am human.
I, am both masculinity and femininity, all the time.
And I, am unbecoming to become again. No, not like a phoenix rising from the ashes. I rise from the accidentally bumped container of Ranibow Sprimkles of my very gay dyslexic ancestors. Period. 💅🏻
Lol, anyways I hope to start sharing my fully clothed human self again here soon. Can’t say she is fully out of her virtual hoe era, but they’re definitely slipping into a more harmonious era where they know he can carry the weight of us both. Iykyk. 💖
K, byeeeee
