things that are extra shitty for trans guys

y’all i just felt like complaining today!!

also!!! this can apply to other trans people besides trans guys but this is from my personal experience as a trans guy!!!!! let’s get into the shitstorm that is my life

1. Going to the gynecologist

this is the fucking worst. as a trans guy, the last thing I want to be made aware of is the fact that i have a fucking cooter. And going to the gyno not only means that i am made aware of this fact, I also have to deal with a (probably) cishet person just diving in with no warning!!

I also usually cry at the gyno because of all this and it always just makes the doctor uncomfortable. So, that sucks.

also, I have to sit in the waiting room with all (probably) cis women.

and THEN!!!! I have to fucking deal with my health insurance saying they won’t cover my care because the service is inconsistent with a male gender marker. so much shitty stuff going down in one doctor’s visit!!! (don’t even get me started on how much it sucks to go to the doctor)


2. The fucking sun

this can apply to all those who bind. While the summer is awesome for many reasons, it also means that i get so INCREDIBLY sweaty because I have to wear a binder all day in the hot sun. It feels like I’m wearing a corset that gets instantly soaked with sweat and makes it harder for me to breathe and also make me heat up quickly and sweat through my shirt the instant I step outside.

and the times I just can’t deal with overheating and sweating through my clothes in 10 minutes and decide to just wear a sports bra, I feel like I want to die. Not because of the heat, but because oh my god everyone can see my chest am I even passing anymore I’m totally not everyone is going to clock me now am I safe am I in danger I hate myself I hate my body I would rather be close to heat stroke than deal with this


3. having NO MONEY


one of the cheaper binders: $33

having more than one binder: $33 x 3

monthly doctor appointments: $25

monthly blood tests: $35

clothes to affirm gender: a fucking lot

clothes as I grow out of my old ones as I medically transition: a lot more $$$

cheap packer: $20

expensive packer: $60+

sex stuff so I don’t feel like I want to die when I use my body: $$$a$$lot$$

therapy: $50 per session weekly

top surgery: $9000+

hormones: $a$fucking$$lot!!!$

needles and needle disposal: !!!$$$$!!!!

name change: $200+

new license: $50

new birth certificate: A LOT!!!!!

fuckton of other forms you have to change: SO MUCH!$$$$

~~~~~bye bye money~~~~

4. talking to people on the phone

LOVE!!!!! being outed by my voice. tight!!!!!

5. the gym

i’m short and not muscular and can’t bind at the gym so it sucks. I want to go and be fit and build muscle but I also hate not binding and being around hulking men!!!

also there’s the issue of changing in the dressing room. how do i hide my body? where can i go? if I’m not passing, I don’t want to get yelled at by some homophobic/transphobic old man and I DEFINITELY don’t want to be fucking attacked or killed if someone clocks me you feel?

6. fucking SHOTS

yes there are other ways to take testosterone but referring back to BEING TRANS IS FUCKING EXPENSIVE shots are the cheapest way to get T!!!


so to be the person I really am I have to fucking plunge a needle into my own leg?? this also means I have a great 2 hour long anxiety attack in my bathroom where I sweat and go through 5 different alcohol wipes because i chicken out every time and i keep pricking my skin but then not putting it all the way in and then have to switch legs and then still not do it so i go back to the first leg and then finally LITERALLY dissociate and then i can finally do it


binding. fucking HURTS my back. I’m 100% certain that I am going to have back problems probably for life but there’s nothing i can do??

sometimes I have trouble taking deep breaths in?? sometimes (a lot of the time) I overheat?? sometimes my ribs hurt???

but guess what!!! i can’t not bind!! can’t wait have back problems for life and still have tits because i can’t get top surgery cuz I can’t afford it :))))))

The end

let’s end this by saying how fucking grateful I am to have health insurance and have the ability to transition safely with the support of my friends and family! body posi :))))))



You know how people always talk about those moments that change their life? Those moments in films and T.V shows where a character reads Catcher in the Rye for their English class, and the camera pans out to their face as they have some sort of epiphany, probably something like “life is too short to waste time on stupid stuff” or something, so they frantically grab all their papers, shove them into their backpack and sprint out of class while the teacher shouts, “Hey! Get back here!” but they can’t get back there because they have to get out of there right that very second after their epiphany to sprint to the person they have a crush on and confess their feelings in a crowded cafeteria where they kiss as a song like The Reason by Hoobastank plays in the background? Talk about dumb clichés, am I right?

Well, unfortunately for my cynical self, I became one of these clichés. I had that epiphany moment. It wasn’t after reading Catcher in the Rye though. And I didn’t get a nice public smooch either. Despite missing these ESSENTIAL components of a cliché epiphany, I think my story is worth telling.


I have been completely out as queer for a little over 3 years and as trans for less than 1. In that time, I’ve struggled with being out and proud. It might not seem like it since it seems all I can talk about or care about revolves around my queer identity, but it wasn’t always like that.

There was a time in my life that I didn’t really want anyone to know that I was queer. I didn’t want people from my high school to see and think, “oh yea obviously they’re gay,” or for people who I wasn’t friends with to know my personal struggles with self-hate and self-acceptance.

I was having a hard enough time doing this all on my own; why would I want the world to watch as I fell apart and painfully built myself back up? Why would I want to endure the judgments of people from my small New England town? Why couldn’t I just exist without having my queerness and my transness “taint” how people view me?

And honestly, that isn’t an uncommon (or an unacceptable) way to think. You don’t “owe” your own self and your own identity to anybody. Just because you’re queer or trans doesn’t mean that you “owe” it to anybody to share your journey, your transition, your life. It is your safety and your life. It is your life to live as you wish.

And that’s how I felt for a long time. My own struggles with my identity overwhelmed my desire to share my experiences and my story. My self-hate made me believe that my story wasn’t worth sharing, that my voice didn’t matter, that my identity wasn’t worthy of being visible to the world.

Despite my internalized homophobia and transphobia telling me to sit down, shut up, and live a miserable and closed off life, I am a writer at heart. Expressing myself through these stupid little blog posts literally saves my life. So even though my brain was filled with negative thoughts telling me my positive thoughts and journey and my queerness weren’t worth shit, I wrote them out anyway.

So I wrote a personal essay about my struggles with bisexuality even as my mind shouted at me to stop typing stop typing this is shit no one cares you really think people are going to care about this shit? You’re a nobody you’re average you’re normal you’re not special just because you’re queer who are you trying to be who are you trying to impress why do you think anyone would even want to read this?

I submitted it to a journal the publishes bi+ women’s stories and experiences even as my mind told me this is shit it’s worthless your story means nothing compared to the hardships and struggles other people have who cares about some average person with nothing new to say about queerness this just exposes you for what you are to the world people will hate it people will hate you you hate you so why would anyone else love you or what you have to say?

You must be wondering when I’m going to have the fucking life epiphany after all this angst. You’d think the epiphany would be getting my work published, right? LOL wrong.

It got published in that journal and on the collegiate news site I was writing for at the time. Getting that story published didn’t mean anything in my mind as I told myself it was a fluke, they accept everyone’s writing, it doesn’t mean anything, no one is going to read it anyway.

The day came that my story came out in the journal and on the website. I didn’t expect much. Maybe a few pity likes from my friends and maybe a comment from some queer people from my college or high school.

I’ve never been happier to be wrong about something in my life. The post got likes from my friends, my family, and from people I had never met. People were commenting that my story resonated with them deeply. They said I put their experience into words. They said it made them feel understood.

I had people I hadn’t spoken to in years message me saying that my article helped them. That they look forward to reading more of my work. That they love my blog. They said my story helped them feel accepted. It made them feel understood. Thank you they told me thank you for writing that. It helped me a lot. 

I had people from my past contact me asking for advice because they felt like they could talk to me after reading my story. I had people come out to me. I had people asking if they could put me in contact with one of their friends who was struggling with their identity. I had friends approach me to talk about their personal struggles because they were struggling just as I had and how did I come to accept myself how was I comfortable being so visible as queer and trans?

This story I wrote helped people. My struggles helped people. My life, my story, my experience, my visibility. Helped people. My “unimportant” story. My story that I’d told myself was worthless and stupid and would never amount to mean anything.

I was dead fucking wrong.

And that’s the epiphany.

I don’t need some extravagant or even unique story to have my voice be an important one. Simply talking about my experiences and about my life is enough. My life is enough. My visibility is enough to literally change the world.

I am proud to be visible as a queer non-binary transmasc individual. I am proud to share my story and my experiences and my visibility for those who cannot be visible or share their stories.

All it takes is one person sharing their story to change someone else’s life.

It changed my life too.

I miss being a girl: trans guy rambles

I’ve touched on this topic before in my post called “Losing a queer identity” where I talked about how being a queer woman was a huge part of my identity. Transitioning means I lost that part of my identity and it makes me sad.

But I think my feelings and thoughts on losing that queer girl identity goes deeper than losing my place in an area of queer culture that I know and love (ok it is a lot about that but there’s more lol *issues by julia micheals starts playing*).

I think my main issue and reason why I miss being a girl is because I don’t like men. I have deep-rooted and internalized issues regarding men. Who doesn’t amirite?!~

I don’t trust men.

I feel uncomfortable around men. A lot of men are sexist and misogynistic. Men rape women. Our culture raises men to be violent and intimidating. Men take up space that is not theirs.

Men scare me.

And now suddenly I am presenting and feeling like I lean towards being a binary guy (I’m not binary but I present and appear as a man to most people). How can I suddenly be a part of this group of people who I generally feel anxiety towards? How can I be a guy if I generally fear and don’t like men?

But that’s where I’m at. I’ve become, I am, something that scares me. I’ve basically become a part of a group that I generally don’t like and that I generally fear.

I didn’t have any close, male friends until college. And even then, I found that I always held myself back. It was never the same type of friendship and camaraderie that I have with women. Perhaps that’s because male friendships are often coded and structured differently because of the patriarchal society we live in. But a big part of that must be that I don’t trust men, even men that I am close to.

The idea that I am seen and interacted with as a man makes me genuinely sad. That’s likely for a few reasons. First of all, I don’t identify as a binary man. Being seen and gendered as a guy definitely makes me more comfortable than when I was gendered as a woman, but my non-binary identity is seemingly erased by my masculine presentation and my physical transition.

But my discomfort with being viewed as a man doesn’t end with my own identity. It branches out into my relationships and my social interactions. Women, both who I know and don’t know, will likely feel the same things about me that I’ve felt about other men.

I likely make women feel uncomfortable, even as I am hyper-aware of my proximity and interactions with women. I remember even being in the same room as a man I didn’t know put me slightly on edge, even if he was being entirely respectful and not even speaking to me.

I could be, and probably am, that source of distrust and discomfort for women around me. And the thing is, I still feel like women and non-binary individuals are my people. Seeing a group of men doesn’t make me eager to join them and become ~one of the guys~ it makes me want to run for the fucking hills.

I miss that friendship you would make with random other girls when you go out and talk in the bathroom. I miss being a queer girl bonding with other queer girls about Hayley Kiyoko and Amy Ordman. I miss being one of the girls. There’s something magical about two women in a relationship (saying that now as a transmasc guy it kinda sounds creepy like those men who shout “hot” at two girls kissing in public) and I’ll never really experience that again as I’m not a girl with another girl.

Being a queer girl made me feel special. I was a part of this great, exclusive club complete with inside jokes and instant friends. Now, I’m just some boring guy. And I know that’s not really true, but on some level, I believe it.

And as much as I want to keep myself in the queer girl culture that I’ve loved for so long, I also don’t want to be that guy who encroaches on their wonderful space. It’s not something I should be a part of anymore, and while that sucks for me, it’s the truth. I don’t want to insert myself into a group that is not for me anymore no matter how much I miss it and wish I was still in it.

How can I miss being a girl so much, how can I really not like men, and still (kind of) be a guy? Let me know lol. Gender is a shit show sometimes.

Even though I’m happier and more comfortable than I’ve ever been, I’ve also never felt more lost. “Who am I” sounds like a stupid, existential question, but it is one that has been plaguing my mind for months. Without my identity as a queer woman, it feels like I am no longer who I was.

And that’s ok in a way.

But currently, I feel like my whole self has been flushed down the fucking toilet and all I’m left with is an internalized distrust and hatred for men, and thus, for myself.



How I Didn’t Know I Was Trans

I think I’ve watched every “How I Knew I Was Trans” and “How to Know if You’re Trans” YouTube videos in existence.


A common theme throughout these videos is, “I feel like I’ve known for my whole life,” or, “I’ve always known something was different about me.” Of course, this isn’t always the case, but it seemed like almost every video I watched had some iteration of this.


Which kind of sucked, if I’m being honest. I mean, great for them. But not so great for a very confused and distraught me. Because I didn’t have that.


I didn’t know. I had no idea. No signs. No clues. No funny feeling. I just didn’t know. Until I did. And even when I knew, I wasn’t sure.


So, whether it was to validate myself, or to fit in, or to try and find a definitive “reason” of being trans, or a mixture of the three, I struggled to squeeze myself into that box of people who knew since they were kids or teenagers.


This is me dressed as a guy for Halloween when I was 12. Lmk how I didn’t figure it out lol


I came up with the brilliant idea of making a list. I would look into my past for the “common signs” of being trans as a kid; DUH! Of course I knew all along!! I forced myself to think as I struggled to come up with the clues from my childhood.


Making a methodical, finite list of traits and qualities, likes and dislikes, seemed easier to me than accepting that there is no list of finite traits and qualities, likes and dislikes, that could ever tell me my gender. Only I could tell myself. And that shit is fucking terrifying.


So, I made a list instead.


  1. I never liked dresses. In order to convince me to wear one to a family event, my dad once told me that wearing a dress was the only way I would be comfortable during the car ride. I cried, but I did it. I told him I wanted to wear a tuxedo to my wedding. He said only boys could do that. I was upset, but not life-changing upset, you know?
  2. I only wanted to play baseball, not softball. Baseball always seemed cooler to me because that’s what the Red Sox played. I was forced to join softball when I was 10. I loved it.
  3. I cried one year on Christmas because my Nana gave me bras in front of everyone. I’m still salty about this.
  4. I insisted I only liked “boy” colors like green and blue in preschool. A boy told me I could only like pink and purple, which is why he stole my green marker. I told him he was being a butthead. I got put in time-out.
  5. I had mostly guy friends (until someone made fun of me and my best friend for having “guy-girl sleepovers.” Then, I didn’t have any guy friends).
  6. I was upset when I got my first period. Mostly because I thought that I was going to bleed out and die.
  7. I didn’t like “girl” toys. I got given a Bratz doll for Christmas one year. My friend and I spent the next few weeks putting it in my driveway and laughing when it would get run over by my neighbor’s truck.


I triumphantly stared at my list (‘7 whole signs!!’ I thought to myself) for a good minute.


All of the things on this list did happen and are true. But this list doesn’t mean jack-shit about my transness.


So what if I didn’t like dresses? You know who else doesn’t like dresses? A fuckton of people of all genders.


So what if I cried when I got bras for Christmas in front of my family? What 9-year-old wouldn’t get super embarrassed opening underwear in front of their Uncle and his nice, but overbearing, girlfriend? Does that make every embarrassed pre-teen person who receives bras on Christmas trans by my list-logic?


So what if I was upset when I got my period? You know who else is upset they got their period? A fuckton of people of all genders. Perhaps especially every person who ever bled through their pants in middle school and had to watch people laugh and point at the stain in the hallway. Are they all trans by my list-logic?


So what if I had mostly guy friends? So what if I only liked blue as a 5-year-old? My cis girl friend Jessie’s favorite color was blue as well. Does that make her trans? And what about people who had those markers you blow on that sprayed out a mixed color? What gender does that make them, by my own list-logic??


I stared at my list for a little while longer as I methodically refuted each and every clue I had thought of. Each “sign” from my childhood crumbled away until I was simply grasping at straws. I think I might’ve cried in the library (not an uncommon occurrence during college, to be honest).


I crumpled up the list and recycled it. (I know it would’ve been cooler and more dramatic if I’d thrown the list into the garbage, but climate change is a real fucker, you know?).


I didn’t know I was trans. Until I did. Gender is something no single list, word or experience can fully articulate. On some level, I wish it were that easy. That way I could’ve saved myself a lot of angst and a lot of time spent watching “How to Know if You’re Trans” videos on YouTube (literally would give me days of my life back).


There’s no list to check off. There’s no experience you have to have. There aren’t any trans prerequisites. Even if you don’t know like other people know. Even if you don’t know when other people know.


There’s just what you know. Even if you don’t know quite yet. You will.

Are You Twins??: Queer Couple Struggles

This is a ranty post that I didn’t really plan but has been on my mind lately.

This topic is familiar to every queer couple I’ve ever known, and it is fucking annoying as fuck. So often queer couples will be asked by random (mostly cis straight) people, “Are you two twins?? No?? Sisters at least, right?? Wow, you just look so similar!!!!!!”

First of all, fuck off. Even if we were twins, why do you feel the need to ask?? Twins exist… get over it. And people are so excited when they ask if a queer couple are siblings. WTF? Do you know how many siblings exist in the world? What’s the big fuckin deal and why does it matter so much to my middle-aged waitress?

Also, apparently having the same color hair and wearing glasses makes me and my girlfriend look identical to most people. Tight.

Screen Shot 2018-01-17 at 2.18.24 PM

But that’s not even the point. How often do straight couples get asked if they are siblings even if they have the same color hair or both have short haircuts or are the same ethnicity or both wear glasses? Probably close to never. Do you think their parents, friends, and acquaintances feel the need to comment how similar they look like it’s some sort of cool, funny observance?

It also hurts my feelings when people say this. And not just in a regular “that was a shitty thing to hear” kind of way, but in a dysphoria inducing, wallowing, deep-depression type way. Being compared to my girlfriend looks-wise is somewhat of an honor because of how gorgeous she is, but besides everything else I said that makes this a shitty thing to be told: I AM A GUY. How do you think it makes me feel to constantly hear that I look exactly like my GIRLfriend who is a WOMAN when I am a TRANS GUY who is a MAN?!

It’s offensive and annoying to hear constantly from strangers, friends, relatives, and acquaintances friends that I look like my girlfriend so much so that we are twins.The worst part about this is that OTHER QUEER PEOPLE SAY THIS SHIT TOO. It’s bullshit to “mix up” our names when talking to us: that’s not funny or cool it is hurtful and fucking annoying. It’s bullshit to tell a queer couple to their face, or at all, that they look like siblings/twins. LITERALLY, WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?? WHO DOES IT HELP?? WHAT IS THE POINT OF SAYING THAT?? If you wouldn’t say the same thing to a straight couple who both have red hair or who both have similar cheekbones, then why the fuck would you say it to a queer couple?

All it does is belittle the relationship and encourage people to see queer couples as no more than “oh they must be siblings or gal pals or brothers or something.” It isn’t a funny comment, it isn’t an interesting comment, it isn’t a comment that ever needs to be fucking said so just shut the fuck up and let queer couples be happy no matter what they look like.

Rant over.


I Do Horrible Drawings 5: Trans Ban Tweets

We all heard about the trans military ban Donald Trump tweeted out yesterday.

I have a couple of thoughts. I’d like to posit some serious questions and then move into something that can maybe bring people some happiness (I’m talking about my horrid drawings).

The support I have seen on social media from both queer and cis allies has been immense, and for that I am grateful.

But where is all of this support in day to day life? Trans people face this type of discrimination REGULARLY. Trans people are attacked each and every day. Trans people are killed each and every day for just leaving their house in the morning.

Allies should look themselves in the mirror each day and ask how they can support trans people. Not just on days when there is a mainstream report of discrimination, but on normal days. What can you do if you see discrimination in action? Can you try to identify any internalized hate you have towards queer and trans people? What can you do each and every day to support people instead of only tweeting your support when it’s a hot topic issue?

This goes for all issues of discrimination. Black lives still matter even when you aren’t getting mainstream coverage of discrimination. Trans lives still matter even when you don’t hear about violence against trans people in the news. Women’s lives matter. POC lives matter. LGBTQ+ lives matter. What can you do every day to show your support for marginalized groups? Be better, analyze your words and your actions, and stand up for those whose voices are silenced. Recognize your privilege and use it to help others who don’t have the privilege you do.

With that small rant out of the way, let’s get into some drawings.

I found some of my favorite tweets from yesterday’s response to the trans military ban and I thought they could use some illustrations. So enjoy.

First we have this tweet:


This one just made me smile and think of trans people growing out of a garden, happily just living, surrounded by plants and the sun. So that’s what I tried to draw. But as I’m sure you know, my ideas for drawings and what I actually translate onto the paper are two very different things:


This drawing was supposed to be cute and make you feel good. Instead, it looks like donuts got stuck in an abnormally large piece of broccoli and a creepy, demonic Arthur the Aardvark has decided to lean against a tree to examine his triangle leg.

For wanting to create something that gives off a “flourishing” vibe, I didn’t really put in many plants. There’s literally only two plants.

At least this was created with a nice sentiment in mind, right?

The next tweet was more of a funny one that I actually lol-ed at (forgive me for using “Lol-ed” unironically):


It’s tweets like this that make me still fucking love twitter. That is some good shit.


While this is a pretty literal interpretation of the tweet, I think it’s dope. I’m gonna give myself a pat on that back for drawing 3 people who actually look like people instead of my usually drawings that make people look like evil creatures from The Ring.

I think the bottom-right panel is particularly good. Not only is that unmistakably Donnie (peep the double chin and weird circular mouth with two tiny teeth showing), but also notice the great detail I put into Donnie’s hands and weird mullet hair. Let’s give a round of applause to the cartoon about to chuck him into that volcano. You’re doing amazing sweetie.


This another tweet that I laughed at (ok laugh is a little bit exaggerated: I smiled at my phone, which counts as a laugh when it comes to twitter).


There’s a lot to absorb with this piece. I haven’t yet come up with a way to draw Trump the same way in multiple different situations, so enjoy the random changes in his face and structure.

I thought I was pretty clever with this one (ex. Trump in bed with the Earth saying its hot. get it cuz like global warming?!?! it’s a hot globe!?? I guess it was funnier in my head). Enjoy looking at his Cheeto chest hairs and his creepy frog smile.

And finally, we have this tweet:



I think that sums up my thoughts pretty well. Not much to elaborate on.

So, until next time: be better ever day.