short gap

My heart tells me this is the best and greatest feeling I have ever had. But my mind knows the difference between wanting what you can’t have and wanting what you shouldn’t want. And I shouldn’t want you.
—  Cassandra Clare, City of Glass (The Mortal Instruments, #3)
Binding safety things.
  • “I can bind as much as I like, I’m having top surgery soon so that’ll just get rid of any problems it causes-” nope. NOPE NOPE NOPE. Not only does soft tissue damage make surgery both more difficult and risky, binding too much, for too long, over even just a year or two can weaken muscles supporting your ribcage so when you stop binding after surgery, you’re at risk of things like hairline fractures- and worse, up to and including a couple horror stories that include punctured lungs. Do not use “but top surgery!” as an excuse to bind while sleeping, for more than 8-10 hours a day maximum, or 365 days a year without one single break. Not binding sucks- but we all gotta do things that suck for our health sometimes, grit your teeth and do not fuck up your lungs and ribcage.
  • Nonetheless, your risk assessment needs to be different if your timescale is less “five years til top surgery” and more “binding for the rest of my life”. I understand some women bind for reasons of gender presentation and such without plans to get surgey, plus of course there’s some AFAB trans people who either don’t want or can’t get top surgery who plan to bind indefinitely. Understand that this means you need to plan ahead for a lot of possible risks and complications that are less prominent for people using binding as a short-term gap, that the effects of very long-term binding are barely known and potentially severe, and that thirty years on, if you are still doing it, there are going to have been consequences for your body. This is NOT to say, “don’t do it”. Do it with a full, informed, adult understanding of what the risks are or might be, and be prepared to take those on. Keep a sharp eye on your body’s well being. Do it carefully. Be prepared for the risks, because yes, they exist. You can take them, that’s fine, but don’t pretend they aren’t real and serious.
  • Don’t wear a binder that is a size too small because the correctly sized one “shows too much”. Lung capacity is fucking important and you will crack a damn rib one of these days if you’re not careful. Do not overexert yourself in any binder; if it hurts or you feel faint or whatever then STOP, IMMEDIATELY. If you exercise in one, wear one at least a size up and throw baggy shirts on over it. Wear a velcro one if you can for working out so you can undo that shit ASAP if there’s an issue. If you go swimming in a binder, have someone spotting for you, make sure there’s a lifeguard at the pool, etc. You aren’t going to enjoy your wonderful transition very much if you, god forbid, wind up being in a serious accident because you’re suffocating yourself slowly.
  • You can bind safely. That is to say, you can bind while minimizing the risks as much as possible, til you reach a point where it’s reasonable for a well-informed, sensible person to weigh them up and take said risks. You cannot bind 100% consequence free. That’s all.
  • And look, just to get a bit tough-love for a second: “but if I don’t do all those things, my dysphoria is so bad I can’t cope” is something I fully, entirely sympathize with. It also means you gotta start working on management techniques so that ceases to be the case, NOT that you should just accept totally batshit levels of risk for the sake of your mental health. The solution to “my dysphoria is so bad that it destroys my life if I don’t bind in my sleep and wear it two sizes too tight” is not and should never be, “so I do it because it’s all right if I know accept the risk”. That’s not responsible, mature behaviour. It’s fully, entirely understandable. But you need, NEED to instead take the longer, more difficult path to finding healthy management techniques to improve your mental health and wellbeing so this is no longer the case, or else it’s going to bite you in the arse. You want to reach the end of your transition with the body you deserve, so you can finally feel right in it? Then look after it. Transition doesn’t give you a new body, it makes the one you’re in right now fit better, so look after the one you’re in.

there are 2 types of people in the world;

people who refer to anything with an ambiguous or nonexistent gender as “he”

and people who refer to anything with an ambiguous or nonexistent gender as “she”

e.g. watching a video of a small cat jump over a short gap

“he’s a gymnast! look at him go!” vs. “she’s a gymnast! look at her go!”

anonymous asked:

Can you write something where you and Niall have broken up and she contemplates going to his party for his single and she sees him with another girl and she gets really upset? You can end it however you please, thank you! :)

Six months.  Six months since you’d last felt his hands on your skin.  Six months since you’d heard his breathy giggle close to your ear.  Six months since you’d been happy.  He’d tried to warn you that the distance would be hard.  That his time would be stretched between the studio and promo.  You’d assured him it would be fine……until it wasn’t.  Looking back, the actual break up was completely unnecessary.  You’d been too stubborn.  Too hurt.  You’d wanted him to run after you, beg you to come back, promise things would get better.  He’d been hurt and confused, analyzing every last word you’d spoken trying to figure out where he went wrong.  In the end he’d let you go.  Not because he wanted to, but because he thought a little space to cool down would put things in perspective.  

Neither of you picked up the phone.  For six months.

Now you were in the back of an Uber, sat outside his sprawling LA house.  You could see the house ablaze with light over the wall and hear the faint sounds of splashing water and lilting laughter from the party guests around the pool.  You picked at the corner of the invitation in your hands.  Simple beige cardstock with his new logo embossed in the center.  He was throwing a party to celebrate the success of his latest single.  When you’d pulled the piece of paper out of the envelope it felt like all the air was sucked from the room.  You hadn’t even listened to the song yet, too afraid of the emotions it would dredge up.  

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