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As someone with inerests in travelling, anthropology, social history, and radical gender theory, this is like being an astronomer in space; an oceanologist on a ship; an Egyptologist in ancient Egypt.
But anyway,
The hurt/envy is going away.
I see a well-groomed dykey-genderqueer, or watch a drag king, or scan past blurry self-digitals of birl-y androgyny, or a snap of my ex with a brushed-on goatee, and there is still that slice of ostracism-from-something-important-but-by-the-incontravertable-flesh, and resentment. It's been there for years, and it only became more intense.
So it's still there, and that hurt/envy comes cutting across, but now I'm remembring, oh, I can do that now.
Incredulity follows. Then relief. Tears.
This is good.
But anyway,
The hurt/envy is going away.
I see a well-groomed dykey-genderqueer, or watch a drag king, or scan past blurry self-digitals of birl-y androgyny, or a snap of my ex with a brushed-on goatee, and there is still that slice of ostracism-from-something-important-but-by-the-incontravertable-flesh, and resentment. It's been there for years, and it only became more intense.
So it's still there, and that hurt/envy comes cutting across, but now I'm remembring, oh, I can do that now.
Incredulity follows. Then relief. Tears.
This is good.
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