nicole @nicole@myna.social

It started with an orange shirt, and then I just kept accessorizing until the bell rang.

Downsizing from. 1,500 ft^2 house with 800 ft^2 of basement storage to a 650 ft^2 apartment with 0 ft^2 of anywhere storage is going to be a fine trick. 🪄

I’m moving to San Francisco next month (life changes) to join the roster of people who miss Berkeley Bowl—the best grocery store.

I never thought I was going to be one of them. Trading down to a Trader Joe’s is going to be a wound that will not close.

I couldn’t find Chibi this morning, but I did find half a fuzzy donut.

I’ll never understand sports people, but I’m happy to photograph them.

@NickSchwanck I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I have to stop myself every so often to check my biases (within the last 48 hours, actually). They sneak up on you; they sneak up on everyone.

I think it’s fantastic that you were able to have that frank conversation with your daughter in the light of your own acceptance and growth. What a gift for both of you. ❤️

And that’s kind of the wonderful thing about FFS: even if it isn’t enough to make you pass all scrutinies, it can still bring you to a place where willing people can defy their own disbelief, and see you as they want to see you.

If these people are your friends, they will see you as you want to be seen; if they aren’t, well, … best you both know, so you can preserve your energy for those who are. 🎭

@NickSchwanck I feel bad for everyone involved in these situations. 😆

But also I mostly just feel bad about myself. Which isn’t right or fair, but is exactly what it is.

Move on, roll the perception check again elsewhere. 🎲

Last night, I enjoyed the company of three other women over cocktails after a film screening. One of them was friend; the other two were newly-introduced to me.

I spent the first half hour stressing about whether or not I was passing. But at some point, through circumstance and conversation, I realized they were at ease with my presence. Whether or not I was passing was moot; I relaxed and had a lovely time.

This gives me a lot of social anxiety. The sort of anxiety they write prescriptions for. (And for which I have been written prescriptions).

That’s when the house lights come down and all of a sudden I’m standing in a spotlight.

And nothing hurts more than when I’m talking with someone, and while we’re talking, they realize that I’m trans. The light goes out in their eyes, but the conversation continues, and it’s like you’re talking to an afterimage of the person with whom the conversation began—the words are coming, but the warmth and humanity channels have just been cut off.

Passing is such an interesting dilemma.

Post-FFS, I pass inconsistently, mostly as a product of my height and build (6,1”; footballer); my surgeon did miracles on my face.

I don’t actually care very much about when I don’t pass (though, I neurotically keep score). Depending on the context, it stings, but also I’ve had 2.5 years of it. (I literally don’t care at all if I don’t pass in the eyes of men—I’m not subject to their approval).

But when I provisionally pass I get extremely anxious.

It’s interesting how when things finally come undone, they all come undone together. 🧶

Okay, so maybe reading the Slack channel of goodbyes from my now-exited peers on the train wasn’t the greatest idea. (I _was_ warned).

I did learn that tissue will be readily offered to a sobbing woman, no matter how large and awkwardly-shaped she might be.

😭😭😭

@cederbs feel this. ❤️