so many fandoms

He was reared to give respect


June 10, 2020 :: 8:46 PM

one, two, ready, fence

“I am deeply sorry for the pain these comments have caused you. I really hope that you don’t entirely lose what was valuable in these stories to you. If these books taught you that love is the strongest force in the universe, capable of overcoming anything; if they taught you that strength is found in diversity, and that dogmatic ideas of pureness lead to the oppression of vulnerable groups; if you believe that a particular character is trans, nonbinary, or gender fluid, or that they are gay or bisexual; if you found anything in these stories that resonated with you and helped you at any time in your life — then that is between you and the book that you read, and it is sacred.” - Daniel Radcliffe

- - - - -

There once was a little girl who grew up desperately wanting to be a little boy.

It was “just a phase” when she took scissors to all the pink, feminine, clothing her mother used to buy.

It was “just a phase” when she decided she had to learn how to do boy things. Like pee standing up.

It was “just a phase” when she asked her father to call her Tom. (He thought it was short for tomboy. Yeah. no.)

It was “just a phase” when she got her period and felt suicidal.

It was “just a phase” when she realised that she preferred being a tomboy because it was as close as she could get to the real thing.

It was “just a phase” when she stopped buying women’s clothing.

It’s funny… out of all the things in the DSM-V that’ve I’ve been diagnosed with, gender dysphoria hasn’t been one of them.

My pronouns remain she/her.

My body remains as is.

My brain remains as is.

I’ve come to a kind of internal compromise in the war between my body and brain.

Had I known that being transgender was a real thing and not “in my head”, I might have pursued treatment and had my gender changed.

Now that I know that it’s OK to have my brain and body not match, I actually feel better. The dysphoria has actually lessened, just from knowing that I could actually get the penis I’ve always wanted. (Yeah, the one I was left in the Band Senior Wills, I think ‘96 or ‘97, doesn’t count.)

When I started fencing, I’d already studied gender reassignment and tossed around the “what ifs”...

And then I met Phil.

He had kids my age and we became fast friends. It was hard not to notice that he had longer nails, was growing out his hair, and spelled his name “Phyl”. He wore a female chest protector and had pronounced (but tiny) breasts. I kept my questions to myself. It was none of my business.

Until she made it mine.

She came out to me one night before we took the piste for a match.

I nodded, said “Cool”, shook her hand, and proceeded to win the match. When we were off to the side waiting for our next match, she told me she was surprised I was so calm about it. All I could say was that I knew. It was obvious to me. I was surprised she hadn’t said anything sooner.

Her wife had always known something was off, and it was’t until she died that he started to take how he felt into consideration. He realised that it was more than cross dressing, more than… well, just more.

She made me reconsider my options even more. Here was a biological male, 60 years old, and beginning to transition.

What a fucking inspiration.

Maybe, one day, I can be as brave as she is and finally live in the right body.

The only TERF I like is astro…


June 07, 2020 :: 6:58 PM

words are weapons, sharper than knives

FUCK. YOU. JK ROWLING.

I just can’t with this woman.

I really wish she’d just shut the fuck up and quit tarnishing one of the best things that ever happened to me.

Dopey In Training!


May 25, 2020 :: 3:08 PM

If I’m flipping the bird 15 miles in, I think I’m in trouble…

I’m very amused that 42.2km is a marathon.

Who knew running 26 miles was the answer to life, the universe, and everything?

Happy Towel Day, hoopty froods.

 

Exploration and Discovery


February 02, 2020 :: 8:47 PM

I’d apologise for the impromptu concert I gave on the way home from Orlando, but I’m not sorry.

1) I travelled to Orlando solo to run the inaugural Running Universal 5K and 10K.

I did super well on the 5K, even though it rained. I’ve started taking intervals seriously and they work. I finished the race stronger than I began it, which is saying a lot. I didn’t PR time-wise, but I did pace-wise.

I did pretty well on the 10K, too. Didn’t PR, but I had a blast running through the parks and making friends with a dude in a T-Rex costume. 

I saw a lot of PHRC people and met up with a few before and after the races. Dinner Friday night, Saturday and Sunday I corralled with a Gryffinfriend, yelled “FOR BILL!” with another Claw as she ran past, was jealous of the Puff’s Cookie t-shirt… It was nice to bring the virtual into reality, even if it was for a few seconds each time.

2) Running a 5K and a 10K back - to - back didn’t suck nearly as hard as I thought it would. That’s great news for the Rival Run weekend in April, when I’ll do a 5K, a 10K, and a half over three consecutive days. I just need to get the half under control. And it will be.

3) I finally made a long-awaited pilgrimage to Kennedy Space Center on Saturday.

(I have a Challenger/Columbia license plate, so that might tell you a little bit about how important this trip was to me.)

34 years ago on January 28th, I sat in a classroom and watched as Challenger basically disintegrated upon take off.

That affected me more than I could have ever thought possible…

I practically burst into tears the second I stepped onto the property.

That was long before I got to the memorial for the three astronauts who died on Apollo 1.

Long before I saw a space shuttle for the first time.

Long before I saw the memorials to the crews of Challenger and Columbia.

In a weird quirk of timing, I happened to go to KSC on the 17th anniversary of the day Columbia was lost.

In another weird quirk of timing, Ron McNair’s family was on site. His uncle owned a bar in Hartford, CT, and somehow, my father knew Ron. I can’t remember how they met, but I do vividly remember my father’s reaction when his name was read out loud on the news. (McNair was on Challenger’s final flight.)

At any rate, the reveal of Atlantis was super powerful and I burst into ugly tears. As I stood there crying, an employee came over to me and asked if I was OK. (I was so NOT OK.) He told me about how he had worked on all five shuttles and… just a bunch of stuff. It meant a lot to him that he would come over to me and start talking.

Then. I went down to the the memorial area. I cried the entire time I was in the hallway looking at the personal mementos of both shuttle crews. I made the mistake of looking around the corner and seeing a piece of Challenger’s left body paneling and Columbia’s cockpit window frames.

I’m still tearing up thinking about how powerful that was…

 

You can only look forward…


December 22, 2019 :: 7:21 PM

re-run all the races!

We’re not going to talk about last year’s three words, except to say I failed miserably at all of them… 2019 was a year forever marred by the events of December 6th and my inability to get past it.

And that’s fine. I’ve learned from it. I’ve done my best to heal. I’ve tried desperately to put myself first.

For 2020, it’s not so much three words as three sentences.

It’s all about the Twelfth Doctor and what’s become the Whovian Running Club’s new motto:

Run fast.

Laugh hard.

Be kind.

I’m pretty sure that they’re self-explanatory.

Page 2 of 45 pages  < 1 2 3 4 >  Last ›