These dogs fascinate me. If you go and look at the kinds of people who attend the shows specific to these breeds, there is definitely a TYPE who owns these kinds of dogs. Historically, we either have companion dogs, or working dogs. But now, there’s a third group “Identity dogs”.
It’s not necessarily about having a companion animal that lasts a long time, rather than an animal that creates a certain kind of image and solidifies a certain kind of identity for the owner. The generation by generation, animal’s body is molded to fit the idea of how the owner wants to be seen by other, and how the owner views themselves.
This was on a post discussing shit parents doing a new satanic panic. Valid points all around but. But I’m crying. This is the funniest lie ever, no parody I could come up with this will be this funny. Nonbinary Julius Cesar
Sometimes I think about how many people I met in food service who smoke. I think about growing up in an upper-middle class neighborhood, and how it was drilled into me that smoking is addictive and bad for your health. I think most people, in America at least, are well aware of that. Whenever I would decline a cigarette, on the rare occasion it was offered, saying I dont smoke the reply is always “good, don’t start.”
I think about the long shifts, working on your feet all day, with breaks scheduled down to the minute. Every second of your day controlled by the clock, regardless of how tired you might be. However, in food service, there is one exception. The smoke break. Most managers respect the smoke break. The old school ones do, at least. The newer crop less so. Food service is fast paced, highly stressful work, and nicotine, in addition to all of its addictive and damaging properties, is a relaxant. If a burger flipper or barista says they need to step outside for a smoke, you let them do it, and you dont begrudge them for it.
It’s such a strange bit of kindness. One that we know is terribly harmful in many respects, but performed anyway. I think about all of the interconnected systems, of health, of education, of exploitation, that leads a person to knowingly trade in years of their life for five minutes of peace. I wonder how many people in my upper middle class neighborhood would propose simply banning the smoke breaks. I wonder how many people I know would just break.
“I fucked ur mom this” “I have sex with your dad that” well I have a weird homoerotic relationship with your hot older brother and he got lost in my eyes over our jumbo pizza slices and forgot to pick you up after soccer practice. it’s raining and you’re devestated btw
you guys can’t do this to me.
you always think “this could never happen to me” until it does.
Idk a lot of the backlash to broadening who falls under what terms comes from the need to distinctly fall under the specific label you worked towards…but distance from adjacent labels only limits your allies and puts you in a rigid box you can’t come back out of either.
Saw a post by a trans woman horrified by the concept of having overlapping experience with femboys because “fuck you I am a woman.” You are. A woman with a lot of overlapping experience with a GNC man. You’re not a GNC man. He’s not a woman. And the gap between you two is not a chasm.
“How dare you say trans men are similar to butch lesbians. Trans men are men.” Yeah, men with similar experiences to butch lesbians. The butch lesbian isn’t a man. You aren’t a woman. And the gap between you is not a chasm.
This mindset doesn’t even account for GNC men who also ID as women, trans men who use the label of lesbian. Butch can be a label for a person of either AGAB.
Binary trans people wanna separate themselves from each other and from nonbinary people sooo bad. Now it makes eggs feel like the jump from GNC woman to man is an insurmountable journey. A femboy gets told he’s making a mockery of trans women’s experiences. A transmasc femboy is seen as just a faker. A butch trans lesbian is seen as a faker.
These labels are all just plots on the map, not one side or the other. You journey to the farthest edges and you find twinks and lesbians who look and act identical despite being supposed opposites. It’s all made up, we’re all queer.
Like ultimately I get it. When you’re told you’re a man in a dress you’re going to want to distance yourself from men in dresses. When you’re told you’re a confused girl, it’s tempting to dedicate to proving how you’re nothing like a girl.
I came out and my parents made me promise I’d never change my mind about my identity. I swore off anything that was like my AGAB. I was dedicated to running as fast as I could to the “opposite” gender.
All it did was make it 100x harder to realize I was genderfluid.
How could I miss features and traits and behaviors that were from my AGAB? How could I want to experiment again? What is drag? Is it dressing like my AGAB which makes me uncomfortable…or wait…does it? Is it dressing like the gender I transitioned to but exaggerated? But wait…I already exaggerated dressing like this gender in a desperate attempt to run from my AGAB? Does the parody of this gender make me NOT this gender?
I ran as fast as I could to the opposite wall and bounced off, then upon turning around and seeing an entire room I could move about freely, I got stuck terrified about which wall I was meant to hug.
It made me isolate people I could have connected with. “Transfemme” but you proudly look like a man, are you even trying? “Transmasc” but you wear a dress still? Now they’re gonna think every transmasc should be in a dress!
It makes you enemies with the people in the same boat as you, it makes you enemies with yourself!
“Now that I’m a trans man I can’t hug my friends anymore” “Now that I’m a trans woman, if I wanna retain my boy hobbies I have to do it in a girly way”
THESE RULES ARE MADE UP!!
These rules are self-enforced prisons. Community-enforced prisons.
Women with beards are freedom. Men in skirts are freedom.
Not just freedom to be one of them too but freedom to say “okay if I change my mind that’s okay” or “I’m allowed to keep parts I liked without discarding them to fit.”
Kill the gender cop in your head. I promise you that finding community with the freaks and the weirdos will be a longer lasting source of joy than casting off parts of yourself you like to gain acceptance in a space whose love is conditional.
like where did it come from i was literally doing a silly little art and craft
The firm and deeply-held fear that if I’m getting to make progress on a fun craft or read a book that there must be some responsibility I am failing at.
Oh god, I feel this in the anxious place inside my chest.
