@atiredghost

natalie.
they/them
ig: lovecraftianightmare

hey y’all i’m so sad to report that my longstanding crush on a man that i’ve know for a decade is not only reciprocated but has been the entire time and i could have been kissing that fucking idiot for TEN YEARS

y’all he was like a little mean to me the other day and then i apologized bc i started it and he was still being mean but he sent me a cute duck video at like 430 this morning so like i think we’re good idk

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literally though if you feel like your life is slipping through your fingers and every day goes too fast… try doing hard things, not just taking the easy route, like reading and making art and exercising and cooking a meal from scratch and journaling, doing these things without distraction, without being absorbed on a screen… the time will stretch and you’ll be reminded that life is long and beautiful if you make it so.

No one I know has had the same experience as me getting on hrt and honestly it’s a damn shame

me, mentally bracing myself for months, if not years of psychological evaluation: “So I think I might be trans?”

doc: “cool cool cool cool”

doc: “so… do you wanna start estrogen today or…?”

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This is the blessed post of ungatekeeping. Reblog this to never again have to barter with a medical professional regarding treatment of your mental or physical health.

I’ve had a similar experience when I went to the clinic to get approved for top surgery.

Secretary: What are you here for?

Me: Uh, top surgery.

Secretary: Are you on hormones?

Me: No, not yet.

Secretary, leaning towards me: Do you wanna be?

Hey kid, you wanna buy some tits?

shaking six year old me by the shoulders YOU WERE RIGHT. YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT LOVE AND ABOUT FAIRNESS AND ABOUT SHARING IS CARING. YOU WERE RIGHT. THE ADULTS DON’T KNOW ANY MORE ABOUT TRUTH THAN YOU DO. KEEP BELIEVING IN THE FAIRIES AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GARDEN. NOTHING IS “JUST THE WAY IT IS”. I AM SORRY THEY EVER CONVINCED YOU TO FEEL SHAME. YOU ARE REAL AND A PART OF THIS WORLD. YOU WERE RIGHT.

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The bloodstained handkerchief belonging to Anne Brontë, used in the weeks leading up to her death from tuberculosis in May 1849
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girl help i’m starting over again for the 1000th time & i’m beginning to think that life is a never-ending cycle of starting over & i actually have to make peace with that in order to move forward