You, a year and a half on T: in possession of a leonine grace and sun-warmed sexual fluidity reminiscent of my kindest unattainable crush in high school, has an appropriate individual response to overfishing that also prioritizes communal action, definitely has cum gutters, absolutely could be an unbearable gymstagrammer but isn’t, but isn’t self-consciously opposed to gymstagramming, capable of living in total harmony with any number of online subcultures I both resent and long to participate in, only developed non-embarrassing beard after finishing full facial masculinization, has two boyfriends, one cis, one trans, both 6’3, effortlessly switched from disregarding female beauty standards to disregarding male beauty standards at the two-month mark, ported the same account from HER to Scruff the day before starting T, never embarrassing, knows his (consistent) size when ordering from ASOS, owns and uses the correct amount of skincare products with tea tree oil in them, gendered correctly and casually by everyone but would react with disarming grace and strength if ever misgendered over the phone, somehow developed more hair at the crown, uterus acting normal, qualified for peri but actually wound up not needing top surgery after all, actually transitioned twelve years ago, passes 100% of the time but still gets the butch head nod, never uses judgmental language like “passing,” remembered to freeze his eggs, non-embarrassing relationship to transmasculine properties like the Lord of the Rings live-action movies, Mulan, and A Separate Peace, looks good in sweaters, comfortably 5’8, friend to every living gender, is never tiresome about astrology, never writes personal essays, perfect hairline, total trailblazer pre-transition and just the right amount of laid-back and supportive post-, living life to the fullest, quietly jettisoned any habits that made people perceive him as a badass chick but a super-irritating dude, “best thing I ever did”
me, a year and a half on T: still regularly ma’amed by birds, both an embarrassment to feminism and transmasculinity, personally responsible for the failure of body positivity, forgot to have cheekbones, currently stuck in an airport bathroom, forgot to develop upper body strength, an actual loaf of bread, single-handedly responsible for potholes, hates the design of men’s deodorant, only wants to talk to male ice skaters, problematic hamstrings, full of hamfisted and messy personal essays about first-year transition milestones that I’ll regret in eight minutes, for some reason getting colds more often??, worse at brushing teeth, reinforcing the binary probably, neck looking worse by the day, forgot own pronouns
3 months and I’m already sweatier than i thought possible, with some stubble worthy of calling the police over
Two and a half years on T and I just misgendered myself to my parents, cool cool cool