In regards to my previous post: HRT is nowhere near a magic fix all that will make you a girl. That is decided by you. Your ability or inability to get hormone replacement therapy is not a measurement of how transgender you are. Being transgender is an internal decision, and whatever comes after that is ancillary to deciding for yourself that you are the gender you want to be. I recommend it; I adore what HRT has done to my body, but I was a girl long before I decided to do any sort of medical transition and anyone who says you need makeup and stringent routines and medical supplies to transition is either a fuckin' liar or needs to reexamine how they think about other transgender people, including themselves.
lord the peasants are so loud today
can you reblog a two-part post in the correct order?
Single mother in the year 2099 who went on to megafail at absolutely everything
in other words after reading majority of his comic series (not one of them is good) i get why happy baby timeline was so pivotal. shits bleak out there.
Every so often I almost forget that Cleo is the absolute best ever, but then something like this happens:
All the armor stand parkgoers in Scarland are adorable, but Scar saw this family and literally almost cried. And so did I. Cleo's storytelling in Minecraft is just unbeatable. Every little one of these wooden people has a real heart inside.
(It would be wonderful if folks could reblog this, a lot of people are feeling very discouraged right now and could use the morale boost!)
i deserve to be an eel. in a crevice with a bunch of other eels. opening and closing our mouths over and over
So I had a hysterectomy today (hooray!) and I brought along my stuffed orca, Shamu, as a comfort object. And everyone i interacted with during my pre-op was like "Oh! Who's this?" so I was telling them all about him, how he's been with me since I was 9 and gone on every single vacation and road trip, and they were telling me about their own stuffed buddies (one lady said she still has hers after 40 years!) and all of this while I was signing consent forms and providing a list of the things I'd brought with me, you know, small talk.
So then a nurse comes over and goes "Okay, I've got some stickers I'll put on your things so we know they're yours" and I'm like "OK cool" so she puts a sticker on my coat and stickers on my bags of clothes and then she turns to Shamu and I'm like "oh I guess he gets a sticker too"
But no. She pulls out a hospital bracelet that's an exact copy of mine and slaps it on his tail, like so:
And i was delighted by this, so I took a picture to send to my friends, who were equally delighted, and were cracking me up with their reactions (like so:)
Anyway, they take me back and put me under, and when I awake groggily a few hours later it takes me a minute to get my bearings, so I don't notice Shamu at first. But then I realize he's tucked up next to me in the gurney, so I grab him, and my hand touches gauze.
And I'm like "huh?" so I look at him and I realize
They gave my fucking orca a hysterectomy
Reblog daily for health and prosperity