Clothes and Gender and Anxiety

I am going to a fantastical festival tomorrow that celebrates whimsy and magic. I want to wear my long blue wig and sparkly gold makeup and a purple fairy skirt. Normally I wear my natural hair back and under a hat and minimal makeup and pants. Even then I am mistaken for a women. It bothers me to be seen as female, not because I have anything against women, but because it is not simply who I am. I know tomorrow I will be misgendered and that stresses me out. It is incredibly frustrating to ne that clothes equal gender in our society. I have stubble and a deep voice but long hair and makeup make me a woman somehow. Add a skirt and minds are blown. People argue with me when I correct them or just ignore me. For example,
"How are you, ma'am?"
"I am fine, but I am a sir"
"If you're dressed like that, you clearly want to be a woman" or even "no you're not"

I know it seems petty, but it really bothers me. I'm sorry I just have to vent…


Everyday is cheat day, but today is extra cheat day.
This box contains all the sugar.

I made a tapas

I will be posting much of my artwork on tapas, a lovely webcomic hosting site. Read it here:          Thank you!

Their Breath Becomes Butterflies

I'm so proud of these buttetflies.

Look at those magnificent fuckers. I feel like a real artist. Eeeeeeee

I'm ok

This week has been a good week. I have gotten adequate sleep and I feel mentally ok. Physically, I hurt a lot, but mentally, I am ok. That feels somehow wrong to me. Like I'm being tricked and some horrible disaster is just on the horizon, but for now, I'm ok.

Bleh- a vent post

This week has been difficult, not because of outside forces, but because my mind has constructed a barrier. Everything is fine. But it isn't. I am simultaneously anxious and oh so weary, an odd but powerful combination. I have resigned myself to this constant looming dread. I am too tired to do anything, but I must or all will fail. So much depends on simple will power. I have none. So much depends on unwavering confidence. That too has fled. When I express my fears I am told I have no need to worry. I know that. I know I am capable. But the self-doubt creeps in and twists itself around my heart and suddenly my faith is lost and I can't breathe. It makes me sick.

Queen Amisi step by step