Sophia - 23 - infp~t- Leo- SC: uncharged_life, insta is also uncharged_life and twitter is just unchargedlife add me if you want- Ohio message mE IF YOU WANNA FIGHT
i fucking LOVE strikes. hell yeah. group action is the only thing that accurately portrays the power that society forgets it holds in it hands. even if it’s actors and writers, someday it’s truckers and railroad workers and factory workers and construction workers and every worker you can imagine- sex workers and janitors and sale associates and telemarketers and line cooks, anyone and everyone, i fucking love group action. i love solidarity. i love the struggle for power that makes us human
“ur just mad bc testosterone turned u into an ugly hairy bald fatty and not an anime twink”
i wonder why young impressionable trans ppl who want to go on t would be afraid of being hairy and bald and fat. i wonder if it’s maybe bc they’ve watched the queer community treat fat queer people in general, but particularly fat queer ppl who are hairy, bald, and/or not feminine, like absolute fucking shit. i wonder if it’s bc our society assigns morality to looks and fat hairy bald ppl get literally treated like predators simply because of the way they look. i wonder if it’s because they watched the rest of the queer community idolize and prioritize white thinness. i wonder if maybe, just maybe, there are deeply seated issues in the queer community that we might wanna address when they make themselves obvious instead of falling back on mocking individuals for the way they look.
do not tag this post or any of my posts “q slur.” if you don’t want the word queer on your blog, do not reblog from me. thanks.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!
reblogging for the replies about ‘queer’
YEAH like it’s interesting that user tagged “q slur” but didn’t tag “fatphobia.” really shows what some ppl’s priorities are.
cosmic horror (god loves you too much and keeps resurrecting you)
cosmic soap opera (god loves your boyfriend too much and everytime you die it basically breaks him so god has to resurrect you even though he’s really annoyed about it)
it’s so funny to me that conservatives think the reason university students become more liberal is because of the actual course material and not like. the fact that universities in the US introduce are oftentimes the first place Americans are introduced to a walkable environment with affordable health care, with community spaces for any affiliation under the sun where they give you free resources and cheap food. with included public transit and opportunities for training in your field of choice. and you realize that for how much you’re spending on tuition/taxes, yeah, you do deserve these things, it would be insane not to have those. and then you graduate and go back to having to buy a car to drive 20 minutes to the grocery store.
It’s also one of the first places a lot of people raised in insular, conservative areas meet “the other”. People of other ethnicities and cultures, people of other religions, other gender presentations, sexualities, etc. You get to know them and start realizing how much of what you “knew” about them was myth or straight-up propaganda.
It’s a lot harder to demonize queer people when the person helping you pass calculus is a trans woman, or your lab partner talks about his boyfriend exactly the same way you talk about yours. It’s a lot harder to believe that immigrants are out to get you when your Hindu roommate cheerfully shares a care package of homemade goodies from home, or Malia down the hall covers your lunch because you forgot to bring your wallet to study group. You start rethinking some assumptions when the 6 foot spike-encrusted goth who sits behind you in lecture hall shows everyone photos of his baby niece dressed like a puppy for Halloween with all the pride of a new parent, and you remember when your flannel and camo-wearing uncle did the same thing at work last year with photos of your little sister.
Suddenly all those “others” are just people. They’re your friends, classmates, coworkers, and maybe even romantic interests. And that’s a lot harder to hate or fear.
Remembering how once many years ago I was walking downhill at a trail in a forest with some other people when I felt something slam into my back, and I reflexively ran forward still feeling whatever it was, like something had leapt onto my back and was clinging there the whole way down. I got to the bottom of the hill and stumbled to the side and a cyclist shot past just saying “SORRY!”
According to everyone else, the bike basically hit me square in the back, pushed me all the way down the hill, and my legs by maybe pure reflex just literally “ran with it,” like this:
Somehow I didn’t get hurt by it at all
To answer common questions, I believe they did hit the brakes and simply slid all the way down, and I believe they did yell during this event but I couldn’t have distinguished that from anyone else yelling since there were many adjacent people. It was partially nobody’s fault because it was a strange bike path made by locals rather than an official legal park of any kind, the hill was probably built too steep plus it was dry and dusty
aaaaa omg a coworker just came to my desk like “oh, you changed your name? me too, look!–” and pointed out her badge and then her ringless hand and gleefully announced, “divorce!!” and we exchanged congratulations and fist bumped djdnsnjs best interaction of my entire transition
My boyfriend was on the phone with his dad yesterday so I went out to sit on the patio to pet the geese and play on my phone for a bit, and while out there I came across a comic of baby Grimace (yes, that Grimace) being sad because everyone hated his milkshake and saying he wished he never had a birthday. Then there was a follow up where tons of people had commented saying they loved the shake and wished Grimace a happy birthday, and that made him happy again.
This, for whatever reason, emotionally devastated me. I was sobbing. I was ugly crying so bad that even the geese waddled away side-eyeing me.
After a while my bf yelled from inside, “Okay, you ready for dinner?” and I was forced to accept I had to go back in the house a defeated sniffly little wreck.
My boyfriend, who has only ever seen me cry once in the whole year we’ve been together, looked horrorstruck. He assumed the worst. Someone got hurt. Something was wrong with my family. Someone was mean to me (a cardinal sin). The panic that washed over his face was unparalleled.
He, upon seeing me, (somewhat theatrically) rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What’s wrong, what happened? Are you okay?” he asked, frantic. “What is it?”
I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and just shook my head.
He was growing more panicked. “What is it? Why are you crying?”
I then had to stand there and look him, this completely normal human being, in the eyes, and blurt out “Grimace”
Confused silence followed.
“….Grimace?”
I nodded.
“…The McDonalds guy…thing?”
I nodded.
“What…what did…Grimace…do to you?”
I then tearfully recounted the silly internet comic that had absolutely broken my heart. And this poor guy–this poor, wonderfully sweet, nice, patient guy–kindly stood there trying to figure out how to comfort me that Grimace was not, in fact, sad. (Nevermind that he’s a corporate mascot who isn’t real)
This morning my phone rang just after 5am. It was my boyfriend. It was my turn to panic, to assume the worst.
I didn’t even have time to say hello before he started excitedly yelling, “Look at the TikTok I just sent you! Look! Open it!”
Confused and not entirely convinced I wasn’t still asleep, I opened the TikTok.
An official release from McDonalds confirming Grimace (who still isn’t real) did, in fact, feel special on his birthday.
also while we were in the car headed to dinner I remembered the little panel of Grimace crying and I got all teary eyed again, and my boyfriend looked over and, with all the genuine care, compassion, and sympathy this guy could muster, legitimately asked, “Are you having Grimace thoughts again?” which I don’t think I’ll ever let myself live down
