Hm. I wish I hadn't called it that. Now you're all going to be expecting something huge from me and it's not really anything that is going to affect anyone's lives. Sorry for the anti-climax after a considerable absence (y'know me, I get bored with stuff easily).
Here, have some M&Ms. Sit down. As you may already know (seeing as like, 2 people who aren't already my friends on Facebook read this blog) or may have guessed, I'm trans. Surprise! Just to clarify, I'm FTM which stands for female-to-male. I was assigned female at birth and now I'm transitioning to male because like hell I'm a girl! No chance. Appearances can be deceiving.
Like that. I'm not a really messy eater with a penchant for chocolate ice cream, promise. I was attempting to dye my beard. It turns out that, despite slathering Minoxidil on my chin daily, I don't actually have a beard. But I do have sideburns so that's OK, I guess. Plenty of time to grow a beard in the future.
So I reckon that's pretty much all you need to know. If you're wondering why I didn't come out earlier, there was always something stopping me before, whether it was knowing that I wouldn't be supported or believed, a high risk of discrimination from pupils and teachers *squints at old secondary school* or being plain confused or terrified by my own feelings. I tried to brush it aside and be super feminine but newsflash: it didn't work. So the 11 year old who tucked their hair under their hat and demanded that their friends call them Tyler has grown into a 23 year old who, at 5ft tall, is quite possibly the shortest adult man in his region.
That's the actual hat in that photo. Anyway, now that the not-so-big announcement is out of the way, we come back to the subject of this blog. I'm not great at updating, obviously. But I want to use my voice. My online voice, since my real voice sounds like Tinkerbell on a tankload of helium. I don't want to make the blog exclusively about transliness and trangst (a portmanteau of trans and angst - patent pending) because that's not what any of you signed up for but this blog IS Bluecolic and I'm Blue and being trans is quite a big part of my life, whether I want it to be or not. If I'm not feeling so dysphoric I cancel my birthday plans (true story), I'm fretting about going to the GIC so I can finally start testosterone. What if they don't think I'm trans enough? What if they won't let me go on testosterone, what will I do? I really need this. 22 years of living as a girl (although the last few years were kind of sketchy seeing as I wore a chest binder and delighted in my androgyny online) was quite enough, thanks. That was a tangent. A transgent? Shut up Blue, no one cares about your portmanteaus! About the blog. It will probably proceed as planned. Short stories (assuming they're still my intellectual property, I actually have to check that), stuff about asexuality, mental illness, cats, all the things that are really important. But now there'll be trangst. Fun(!) And I'll probably change the background to the trans flag or something because 'The Bell Jar' reminds me of my 2014/2015 mental breakdown.
I guess that's all for tonight. Thanks for stopping by - my cats and I appreciate it!
Blue
xoxo
