I just checked my email and it turns out that a former roommate and long time friend that I haven’t seen since I left the city bought me some games. I’m not crying you’re crying

Rare example where the narration is out of step with me, only a minor thing but:

I peer at the grain of the wood showing through the paint as though staring at it closer might give me some clue as to why I’ve stopped here. Do I really want to talk to Ava right now? The team leader is brooding and imposing in normal situations…I’m not sure how she’s dealing with all of this.

Actually no, narration. Like she acts prickly, but she isn’t actually mean. You be nice to her for two entire seconds and she’s a complete dork, she’s kinda lovely u kno.

Like when you darken her door at the facility she’s fucking furious and it wouldn’t be unreasonable for the detective to be pissed off, but like… This is sort of a subtext-test, almost. The way she snaps at you about thinking she’s a monster, Ava has probably had really shit experiences with humans. What if you say “uwu ur not a monster ur a stronk byootiful girlkisser” to her?

“I don’t think you’re a monster, Ava,” I reply finally, my tone just as serious as her had been.

The hostility in her stance drops, though she seems hesitant. A frown fights for position on her expression, but it succumbs to regret instead. “Maybe you should.”

“Why?” The word is breathy as it leaves me, an emotional weight seeming to grip at my chest from nowhere.

The slightest smile curves her lips. “Because it would be safer for you.” The frown finally sets deep on her face. “For me.”

She shakes her head, straightening herself. “I mean for all of us. We won’t harm you, but we’re still dangerous.”

The tension of the previous moment, which Ava had obviously been keen to dispel, doesn’t seem to budge. I shift under the weight of it.

“Right.” It’s all I can say as a reply. With silence the only thing to greet me, I make to turn away.

I only take one step before her hand reaches out to my arm. “Detective….”

Oh NO she’s a big fucking SOFTIE~! I bet she secretly really likes gay romantic candlelit dates or something, look at this smh. “Ooh I’m so dangerous detective, you shouldn’t try to kiss me detective!” Too bad, ur cute lmao. Nerd.

Starting this off with the context that I’m demisexual. Anyway, I might also be bisexual? I’m going to be honest, I did not see this curve-ball coming. I’ve only liked femininity for the longest time, though I never really wanted to be into anybody. I deemed myself asexual, and I was really upset by the fact that I would feel so horny so much of the time. I didn’t want to feel like that, I wanted to be in a relationship with someone purely because of lust, and it disgusted me, and I felt ashamed of myself. Anyway, transitioning (and HRT) changed all of that. Now a lot of what I want is romantic. Sure, sex would probably be nice, but I would want it to be with someone I have built a romantic relationship with. Horniness was replaced by fantasies of romance, of walking with someone down a snowy path, watching the leaves change colors and fall, cuddling on the couch, etc. I have hopelessly fallen in love with the idea of falling in love, and I’ve realized that I don’t think I see anything wrong sharing those experiences with a masculine person, or an androgynous person, for that matter. I don’t think that matters to me so much, and I feel like being in relationships with other people could provide me with unique experiences that I would not otherwise get to see and feel. I have no sexual experience to speak of, but based on my thought process behind it, I think romantic feelings would extend to it. Even if it didn’t, even if I am 100% asexual no sex at all (I don’t think I am), I would be content enjoying a romantic relationship with someone of any gender identity.

So I work in public parks, keeping them clean and such. One such park was a wildlife area. It looked pretty nice, and I may see about posting photos, but that’s for another time. A guy comes walking out of the woods, asking if we were working in the park. We said yes (I was eating lunch), and he then apologizes for interrupting our lunch break, but that there was scorched ground around a tree, and that something had caught fire. Safe to say lunch did not matter at that point, and we ran over to see what had happened. In a circle around a perfectly fine tree (thought it could have been lightning or something) was the scorched ground, still smoldering, though there was no fire. He apologizes again, saying he had come here to pick mushrooms and that he had seen this and thought he should warn someone. It was a good thing he did, because the heat and the smoldering was spreading. Not too fast, but not too slow either. We then have to call our boss, who tells us to call emergency services because this is a big deal, so we do. We watch the ground to make sure it doesn’t get too out of hand, and it reaches a pile of leaves, which catch fire. We were surprised, but easily able to put it out. One we had firefighters on the scene, we moved things like leaves and sticks out of the way while they got the hose. They then put it out, telling us it was a good thing we had called them, because the risk for a fire was very high today, and it would have likely burned down the entire park had they not done something about it. So yeah, me and a couple of co-workers (and mushroom guy + firefighter cadets) saved an entire wildlife park from perishing in the flames. Amazing, but people should be more careful smoking or lighting campfires in a dry savanna-like area.

HOW DID THEY FIND MY DEADNAME AGAIN??? I had gotten them all to use my name, and I guess I once again face the consequences for it being close to my dead name, because my boss saw legal documents again and started deadnaming me in front of most of my co-workers. Now, they’re all going to use it again too, and the luck I was graced with a month ago has just completely flipped. I swear, I’m going to have to change my name, because at this point even my new name is causing some dysphoria just by proxy. When I started transitioning a few months ago, I didn’t want my old self to die, so together with my mother I ended up picking a nice, but similar name that would be easy for people to start using in place of my deadname. Little did I know that a few months from them, I would realize just how bad things were back then, and how I want that part of my identity dead, because I am much better off with it that way. It caused me so much trauma, and getting he/him’d and deadnamed just because people thought I said my name wrong, or am using a “fake” name, doesn’t feel great at all. At thins point, I’ve gone from “Well, it wasn’t so bad, but I’m here now, let’s see how it goes” to “I’m never going back, how did I think I was cis, life before transition caused me so much trauma”.

Ironically enough, it’s at work where I feel more comfortable. It’s weird, but being deadnamed and he/him’d is not as bad as the discomfort I feel going to school as someone who is publicly trans. It’s a long story on how this happened, but to make it short: I have no social will to correct people, I barely have any social will to exist in a group setting (thanks trauma + autism) so I made due with what I could for appearance and impressions. At work, I wear old jeans and a work-assigned T shirt. This does not do me many favors in terms of getting gendered correctly, and therefore I am misgendered regularly. At school, I can change my name on the website we use, and I can introduce myself to the class with that name (yeah I did this at work too, read the 3rd spoiler tag for more details). However, I went into my first day in women’s jeans and a women’s T shirt, and went into my second day with a similar T-shirt and skirt. Great, I’m out and about the way I want to be. Wait, I have social anxiety, and trauma in social situations, especially involving schools. Shit. I’m hyper-vigilant while I’m there, constantly waiting and bracing myself for someone to say something about me, for someone to start harassing me. I might be the only trans person on campus, at least when I’m there, and any time somebody looks at me I just die inside. My survival mindset was to please others, even at my own expense, for the longest time, and I guess some of that made it’s way into my modern life as well. At work, while they think that I am a guy and address me as such, I don’t have to worry about being around them knowing that they know I’m trans. I don’t have to hear what they think, I don’t have to worry about walking in on them talking about me, and I don’t have to worry about them hating me for that reason. In fact, with the job I have, I’m pretty sure at least 60-70% of my co-workers would dislike me if I came out, especially with what I’ve seen them wear in terms of hats and belts. So yeah, I don’t think I’m going to tell anyone at my job, because I don’t want to be alienated in another place. That’s the issue at the end of the day. While I feel so much better about life and myself, I’ve alienated myself from most people, people I already had a hard time connecting with. I’ve just put myself into one more category, one more niche that makes it difficult to get to know other people and feel comfortable around them.

Now for the really weird part. Working with a bunch of cis men is gender-affirming to me. Most of them are hyper-masculine types, and those that aren’t are still taller or older than me. The few other women that work there are all wearing the same thing as the men. Not only do I not have to worry too much about gender envy or imposter syndrome, but I can feel my differences in contrast to my co-workers masculinity, and it reinforces the fact that Yes, I’m a woman, and I am definitely trans. This does not carry over to school. I have an issue where I compare myself to cis women, and I can’t seem to stop myself. I’ve only been on HRT for four months, have gotten no lazer or surgeries of any kind, and have a crappy fashion sense, and yet I compare myself to people who were born with the gender they wanted, people who have already gone through their puberty, the puberty that they wanted to go through. Not only do I feel lots of gender envy, but I feel like I’m not a woman. I invalidate my own experience based on others, and I’m aware that it’s bad, but I can’t stop. Especially in the moment, combined with the social anxiety, autism, and past trauma, I can’t help but have those thoughts because I’m already carrying so many things, and it’s all too easy to add to the pile.