Aug 12, 2025
HAPPY 1000 DAYS OF HRT TO ME, BABY
*sick eighties guitar riff over the sound of a car peeling out and the crowd roars as Andre the Giant lifts me up to kiss my forehead*
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Macao SAR China
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Togo
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
HAPPY 1000 DAYS OF HRT TO ME, BABY
*sick eighties guitar riff over the sound of a car peeling out and the crowd roars as Andre the Giant lifts me up to kiss my forehead*
i have a question for my fellow A.M.A.B. queer/trans folks:
does identifying as nonbinary instead of as a trans woman make other folks judge u less harshly becuz u dont have to reach the impossible standards of womanhood? or does identifying as nonbinary make ppl's judgment just as difficult?
AMAB nonbinary folks get judged less harshly than trans women
its not easier as an AMAB nonbinary person
i just wann see the results
Words
Growing Old
One of the (many) things I worry about is getting dementia as I get older. My paternal grandfather died of Alzheimer's. My maternal grand mother had serious dementia for the last few years of her life. My mom passed at seventy-five and was having some dementia, but mainly memory loss. My dad also passed at seventy-five, and while he didn't have what would qualify as dementia, there were definitely memory issues.
When I talked to a surgeon about the possibility of GCS, the subject of my age came up. He assured me that it's not an issue as long as I'm otherwise healthy. He's had patients considerably older than me get the surgery. And that made me start thinking about aging. It added another layer of worry to my fears of losing mental capacity. I know that frequently, more recent memories are lost first. What if I forget who I am? Forget that I am a woman, not just some guy who wants to be one. The thought of that loss scared me.
But then I considered. I imagined waking up, not remembering the most recent decades of my life. Not realizing who I was. But being called Tabitha. Being treated as a woman. Looking in the mirror and seeing a woman. I might be confused, but I would be delighted. And suddenly it wasn't so scary. I'm still going to worry, that is, after all, what I do, but it's no more intense than before, and maybe even a little less.
Whatever future finds me, I get to face it as me.
I fucking love seeing older T4T and older trans people.
More trans milfs and dilfs and (idk what the nonbinary version of milf and dilfs is) please!
Holy shit I needed bottom surgery six months ahahahaha
being bipolar means that I usually struggle to see a pattern until I'm already in it. like I might go six or seven days in a fairly depressive state before I realize I've been there. luckily my mood tracker does decently at making me recognize that. like if you asked me how the month of June went, I'd say it was stressful, but good. in reality:
I spent most of the month dysphoric and depressed.
towards the end of the month I talked to my psych and she mentioned that lamotrigine, the mood stabilizer I use, can be suppressed by estrogen and reduce its effectiveness. about a month ago, I cut my estradiol dose in half (following the advice of my doc) and immediately stabilized. the last thirty days looked like this:
I don't know the last time I went 30 days without having some breakdown. I can't remember the last time my coping mechanisms actually coped for me. all of a sudden the little self-care tasks I struggled with became manageable. it makes me want to cry and I am so glad.
the cycle is going to come back around, I know I'll have a bit of a hard time as I figure out this new HRT regimen and consider surgical options in the future. my bipolar disorder isn't going to leave me overnight (or ever) but at the very least I'm really glad that things have been mostly okay.
Transitioning in my 40s is so hard. I feel so old, so ugly, so alone.
I never got to be young, to be beautiful, to feel alive in my own body, and the grief of the loss of the woman I never got be is unbearable.
It's true that it's better late than never, but why did I have to be so late? Why did I have to suffer all the trauma that kept me so repressed for so long? To spend most of my life feeling like a monster?