You know what the worst thing about being trans is, hands down?
The rage. And I’m not talking about ‘roid rage–I’m not on T. I’m talking screaming, churning, poker-hot organic rage that I have been FUCKED so righteously and so, so permanently by nature.
I got a few paltry handouts from the Great Body Part Mechanic in the Sky. I have broad shoulders, fat settles on my belly instead of my thighs, and I have narrow hips. Thanks, GBPMITS. But, the thing is, EVERYTHING ELSE IS FUCKING WRONG.