I cry, thinking about the scared doe I used to be. respectability is a fools game fearing for my life, loved ones and the opportunity I'll lose coming out. funnily loved one turned out to the ones who bited me and opportunity stayed pretty much the same.

People used to look at me like a scarry mess, like a broken arm, they still do, I think. I was paralysed, busy trying not to sweat of the glue and let my transness bleed, I hid my weirder interests. Forbid myself to be a nerd, to be clingy to openly say that im a furry and openly show my anger. but still was a freak! I wanted to be a part of the good ones™ soo badly.. Even if it meant being overall miserable But im tall and scary, wide shoulders and deep voice, body hair so many body hair and cuts. No amount of razor blade and padding could help me. neither show those features nor the artifices you use to supress them. So i stopped. simply.

I became something else, and it is through letting my interests back in my life that I started to love myself for the first time. They find me scarry for my transness? Then ill be. so wont ever become a comodity again. I let my broken fangs heal and took pride in my patch of fur and my tall figure. I love my monstruosity and my ugly face. I growled and grew, and so should you. I killed the part that cringe not the part that is cringe. And so should you!

Im sad for wasting years. but I survived, for now. not many does.

And I hope you'll live.