How about some joy that is coming up soon? June 12 will be the 30th anniversary of getting my name changed and I'm really looking forward to celebrating that day. It feels really good to know that I've made it this far!

#TransJoy

I had a girls' afternoon with a bunch of girls and they fully embraced me being openly and vocally trans without ever making me feel the slightest bit out of place for being the only non-cis one.

I count it as #TransJoy because I'm different and I still belong. I *am* the same as the cis girls without pretending I'm *made* the same way. And they were all about letting me feel that way. Differing but not being something abnormal.

I'm struggling to phrase what I mean but hopefully it comes across between the lines.

Yesterday, in the laundromat, with a pair of #knitting needles.

I have a few largish floor rugs, too large for a home washing machine, not large enough (or valuable enough) to call in a steam cleaner, so I occasionally bring them to a laundromat with big machines.

And while they're washing, I knit. In this case, a gorgeous half-circle lace shawl in a hand-dyed silk & mohair thread.

Quadruple takes from some of the clientele.

It is likely a failing in me, but being secretly triumphant when someone walks into furniture because they can't figure out where you fit in their worldview is a joy.

Old, NB, and Bi normally means I am so invisible I can't get the bill even when waving money in the air.

A friend and I (we're both disabled by chronic illness) were able to visit the Crystal Springs Rhododendren Gardens last week. It's rare when we're both well enough to do something together.

No photos, but it was lovely! So many flowering trees/plants!

csrgpdx.org/

My husband and I have an annual pass but for certain groups (eg, folks on SNAP EBT) the garden has "pay what you wish" admission:

csrgpdx.org/community-access-p…

#DisabledJoy #PDX #Portland #Gardens

I'll try in english for those here who want to read it without knowing french language. Beware of my mistakes in grammar en voc (it is okay to correct me. I'll ask for it, it can make me progress)

To understand the following very big text :
I am a trans man, non binary (agender)
But if I am out as trans with a very few IRL people, none of them know about my Non-binarity.
Or they know about nothing (just I am a man "like them" in their point of view)
Or they know I am a trans man, nothing more.

My joy start with some negative thoughts: since autumn 2015 about, my "Roommate" and I are isolated from queer association or queer community.
For us, it is only here, online and it is far far far from beeing enough. (But it's better than nothing, thabk you all for being here. Really.)

And I think I lost my "transness"
I mean, we are still aware to be trans, but, I, I spoke only for me, not for her, I forget often that I am trans
I forget I am a man, for people around us.
I forget I am not "supposed" to be a little girl when younger
I forget that part of my identity
It is a very complicated state because, I know, I am aware to be careful to not speak about me as "when I was a little girl"
And, in the same time, I no longer feel being trans. I don't know if it means something.

We are very very isolated. We love where we live but : lonely (about queerness)

1/ ?

Trans Joy # 1
Just a few days ago I spent the afternoon manly wielding a sledge hammer to destroy my deck.

Trans Joy # 2
I took a shower after wielding above sledge hammer and then went on tidying things up, getting dinner ready...
And I suddenly realized I never bothered to put on a shirt after my shower. I was doing all that topless.
Big hit of gender euphoria discovering my brain fully consider my breast male and not worth covering.

Meeting up with a couple of trans friends on Friday and enjoying a Steve Hackett concert.

And tomorrow (Monday the 25th) will be an anniversary of sorts, as my transition began 7 years ago!

And all the hugs, and may you find joy in this difficult time. 🫂

#transjoy

My joy today is that I asked for a thing.

Most places offer a warranty for their plants, I've never tried to call this in before, even when I really could have. It's just never felt like it's worth the stress and effort before.

Last year, I had a landscaper put in a bunch of plants, almost all of which came through beautifully. A couple crapped out for no clear reason, a couple crapped out due to less-than-ideal care on my part. I don't so much care about the 3 small ones, but one of the "crapped out for no apparent reason" plants was a tree. It's both decently expensive and too big for me to deal with myself, so I contacted the landscaper about the warranty. (Double joy, he's happy to cover it!)

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Some recent Disability Joy in my life:

eldritch.cafe/@TheSunnyOne/116…

eldritch.cafe/@TheSunnyOne/116…

eldritch.cafe/@TheSunnyOne/116…

eldritch.cafe/@TheSunnyOne/116…

(I think those are in the correct order! A slightly more thorough breakdown of the good parts of the past week will be posted when I have gathered my spoons)

I actually find joy in identifying enemies.

I have a mini-list that I wrote down in my notebook earlier. It has three items:

• Listening (lies)
• Doubling Down
• Fugu

My enemies lie. They lie to me and they lie to themselves.

I double down on my listening just like they double down on their lies.

I am a pufferfish. Good to eat, but you've got to be skilled if you don't want my ideas to incapacitate you.

When I understand my enemies, it's a joyful thing to me.

#NonViolentResistance #Ahimsa

Hier j'ai croisé ma tante.

Découvrir à quelle point elle* n'est pas cis, et discuter tranquillement toustes les deux était sympa.
On a pu blaguer, se planter, partager. Dans un contexte tout nouveau (famille mais pas cis).
C'était chouette et nouveau, voilà nouveau ça décrit bien.

(Elle* avait vaguement abordé le sujet de son identité à son dernier passage, là on a eu le temps de creuser.)

Elle* a aussi dit de la merde. Mais c'est ma tante, je sais qu'elle* parle trop vite, qu'elle choisis pas ses mots, qu'elle* est fait pas gaffe, etc… dans tous les sujets, donc que c'était pas contre moi. Et ça, forcément, je l'ai pour l'instant avec personne d'autre.

(Peut-être ma cousine lesbienne, médecin généraliste qui accompagne quelques personnes trans, et qui est elle-même lesbienne, mais je viens de lui faire mon coming-out alors j'ai pas eu l'occasion de papoter.)

(*tant que je n'ai pas de consignes d'autre pronoms, je garde "elle", c'est pas un truc important pour elle.)

You might enjoy @joybooster.

Lately I’ve found joy in the SilentSunday hashtag if you don’t already follow it.

Hope things improve for you soon.

Some poly joy.

Been getting to see my owner meet someone new, who lives near hir, and getting to know this person better. Who has turned out to be pretty great, and sie is already planning to introduce this person to hir other partners and lovers and close friends and subs.

I've been experiencing so much compersion for the both of them. (Compersion, for those who don't know, is the opposite of jealousy or envy. It feels really good.) And I'm so happy my owner has met someone closer to hir in distance, as sie is quite far away from the rest of us, as in, across an ocean and for some of us a continent too.

Also watched a movie online yesterday with my owner and a couple of hir partners who usually attend such things. They also bring me much joy and compersion feelings.

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I recently fell in love with another woman, the gentlest, most accepting person I know. She recently called me beautiful, and we've said "I love you" to each other. 🥰

#transJoy

I lost the use of my right foot two years ago due to a broken ankle that cascaded into the complete collapse of my foot.

If I want to walk, I have to wear a very cumbersome prosthetic.

But when I put it on and actually get to walk around normally again, however slowly or awkwardly, it's always so joyful.

@Cetraria @Amgine
I try to find ways to announce my presence, because I tend to surprise people that "didn't heard me". Even when I take care of tapping soundly my feet when walking or "hem" when comming, or even huming a song.

And don't tell me about the bill in a restaurant…

I'll try to find a positive way to use that power, thanks !
(And if I go as far as put a bell, I'll tell you how it go.)

Thanks for the sharing !

@Cetraria
Congratulations!

Unfortunately, people *expect* old people to wear a mask (which I do.) At least, it has not made me more noticed.

It does seem to convince people I am also hard of hearing. Or, because *my* voice is somewhat muffled, they feel compelled to raise *their* voice.

1. I recently came out as bi to my grandma and she was accepting and loving. This side of me didn't decide to really present itself until I was in my 40s. It was nice to tell someone I love and felt like I made a claim on this identity for myself.

2. I've been trying to start #SummerOfColour for masc presenting folx to post selfies of them wearing more colourful stuff. Masc clothes are often lacking colour. Alice who has a much bigger audience than me boosted it and expressed her support. It felt nice to be seen and encouraged.

3. I'm currently sitting outside at the camp listening to all the birds. There's a cuckoo who's been calling for an hour now. I don't think I've ever heard one on the wild until today.

I've recently started going to a monthly karaoke party with a friend who happens to be the ex fiancé of my abuser (he also abused her). This abuser has tried to push me to be less masculine a LOT and didn't even come close to giving her the attention and care she deserves, very disrespectful person, frequently crossing boundaries, all that.

Now though, after we've kicked him out of our lives years ago and taken over all the places he used to frequent (including our choir, which is also very important but a whole nother rabbit hole), we get to have so much joy.

My friend gets asked if I'm her man quite frequently when we're out together, oddly enough it's usually by men who would like her to introduce them to me if I'm not hers. It's a moment of aromantic friendship joy for me because she gets to have an actual conversation with people and I get to skip trying to find out if someone is interesting to talk to.

There's a lot of trans joy in there too because not only do they reliably see me as a hot man, they see me as a hot man while I'm wearing nail polish and jewelery and dancing with my friend. In specifically the space our shared abuser has taken us both to while pushing me to be less masculine.

Now I get to take his ex fiancé to the rock and roll bar for karaoke, looking hotter than him and giving her a far better time than he did, all while not even trying to date her. We won and we get to do a victory lap every month.

I got home after my first day outside in a dress, a lovely night watching the Survivor finale with friends. I caught my reflection in a building mirror, sweaty, flushed, and windswept but it looked femme and I liked it 🥰

Sometimes my anxiety fixates on the ways my expression of feminity conflicts with the compromises of bike life, and it felt like a refutation of those feelings.

I'm sorry for your pain, and I admire the way you use it to inspire joy.

#TransJoy #NBJoy #BikeJoy

years into my transition my public transport pass still had an old pre-transition photo on it*. The train conductor doing their rounds checks my pass, looks at the photo, looks at me, looks at the pass again before looking me in the eyes and handing me my transport pass back: "Quite the improvement." With an approving smile. #TransJoy

*Something with the railways just issuing new cards with the photo on file every 5 years, and not asking you to update it before a new card is sent out. Something they have since changed, me complaining about it has played a role in that.

Had a nice interaction with one of the neighbor children in our apartment building. We were returning from a convention with our fursuits a few weeks ago, and all the children were playing in the hallways, and were very interested. We had a lil chat with them, about furry stuff.

This one has been seeing the kids around, and having lil interactions, as it comes and goes. The other day, one of the kids walked up to talk to it. They asked about the pride / furry pins on its bag, then shared with this one they were non-binary, and a therian. This one shared it's also NB, and transfem. We had a nice talk about gender identity, queer, therianism, and furry stuff. Kid was really thrilled to meet someone else who gets them. ^{~^}

This one's just so happy to be the kind of person they could feel comfortable enough to walk up and share stuff like that with. This comes after it's recent attempts to be a lil more visible. Very affirming that was the right decision. It was really nervous at first, especially in this red-ass state, but it's been really.. nice. Kinda liberating, and comfy in a lot of small ways. It finds a lot of the cishet people around here don't seem to notice much, but the queer folks dial right in on it.

That's just the one interaction that really sticks out to this one. There's so been many lil ones too. It's very nice to actually see, and talk to the other queer folks in the area. It suddenly feels so much less alone out here.

The thing that pops in my head is the *first* joy... I decided to go to my "home" filk convention Fully Out... and an old friend hadn't gotten the memo about -me... so I re-introduced myself.... And she made a point of getting name and pronouns right the rest of the con. (She and I don't have much in common other than the music - she chose to live in the American South, I GTFO; she's atheist, I'm pretty much the exact opposite of that (as in, like the stars...) But we share the music, and a deep sense of the importance of of caring for one's fellow being, and that made a huge difference...

Oh, and now I remember the latest time... the most recent convention, just last week, half a world a way, half in a different _language_... but one of the presenters came out with Kenji's "Guys, gals, non-binary pals" and _I was not the only WHOOP!! of appreciation in the house_... I'm like, yeah, _this is my people_ all right...

Representation _matters_... shared pain is lessened; shared joy, increased. May your pain be less for sharing joy.

Trans man here. Today I was out shirtless in public for the first time since I got top surgery (only briefly, cuz fresh scars need more sun-free time and all)!

I just got back inside after running around in the pouring rain goofing off with my brother like we were little kids again. Kayaking, playing cornhole, sprinting to gather up gear as the sky opened up outta nowhere... it's amazing for it to feel so normal to just move around and do things like any other guy. 😀 #TransJoy

I can't thank you enough for your encouragements. It's sweet to read you.
I'll do my best to keep your reminder in my mind!

I don't know if I can spend some weeks or days in an other country than mine, it is kind of difficult, because money and health stuff. (I know you know it can be hard)

12 years ago, I had a bad english level, after my school (level "baccalaureat" the exam at the end of... high school I guess, as an equivalent?)
When I met my "Roommate", she watched a lot of stuff in english. Series, cartoons, YouTube, etc.
And followed lots of english people for her work and stuffs (astronomy, weather/meteorology, etc)
So, at first, she under-leveled her stuff for me. We watched cartoons in english with french subtitles (I need subtitles even in french because I have earing problems)
It was hell hard, like A LOT
But she couldn't move back to watch some of her stuff in french, so I gave up a while (during depression time)
When I was healing very slowly, we tried again, watched little stuff. Not much because my attention was not enough for an entire movie.
We started with Steven Universe. It gave me hope because the cartoon is about love, friendship, acceptance, etc. And we move-on with english subtitles.
And since... 7-8 years, I guess, we are at this point, with all in english
Sometime, I am... veryveryvery surprised because, without watching the video or the movie, I can understand what the actors/people are saying. Not for long but still.

I know for sure I can read very easily English. (Well, with a "normal" english, not the very old english or too much-modifying-english)

I know I can write in english and be clear enough. I need to be confident about my skills, I know.
It is sometimes hard (because brain fog, or adhd issues or tiredness) (I could never write that much in english 2 years ago, I know that)
Thank to my skill, I can skip a forgotten-word (or a unknown one) and make a total new sentence that mean the same (it is so much intellectual sport, it is kind of exhausting ! ​​ )

I know I can understand mostly speaking-english. But with my earing problem it is not evolving much, I need support to understand. Or slow speaking.

But... you gonna laugh about it, and you are so right to do so :
I am so bad at speaking english... I am never talking in english, It asks me so much ressources. It is like I lost all my grammar, voc and other stuffs.
I don't understand because when I am writing this text right now, I feel my tongue moving, like I am speaking my text !
But when I want to tell someone, for example "oh, I'm so glad you pass your exam, you are so good, congrats !",
I am so lost that I tell
"Oh, er... I am happy to you, er ... for you ! Er-er because you win your exam, uh no, you have réussir you exam ? No. Hum... well done, bye !"
It is so annoying (and funny I know)

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honestly, french is very hard. A lot of useless letters, or mute one
And that means that you can't read it properly because it doesn't speak as it is written
In french, lots of people say "ça s'écrit comme ça se prononce" it means "this have to be written like it is spoken" (i guess ? The passive formula is hard in english for me yet) and it is so wrong.
We speak with some weird sounds to understand and/or to make
We write with, quite often, useless letters
And of course, there are so much words that pronounce the same, write almost the same (or very similar)
But that mean totally others stuff
Example :
Maire - mer - mère
Maire : it is the mayor, the "chief" of a town or a city
La Mer : it is the sea.
La Mère : the mother
And all 3 are pronounced like "mair" ? (If I try to find a similar english sound) something like in "fair" or "their"

And everything in french is gendered... I am happy : je suis heureuse (female) - je suis heureux (male) - je suis heureuxe / heureux-se (neutral form, non official)
That's one of many reasons why I like to write in english, because even if I am not careful, when I forgot to check someone's prounouns or gender before I answer to them, I know there is like no risk I made a gender mistake. Because there is no much gender words in english when you directly speak to someone.

Well, french is nice to use, to learn, but very hard and too much gendered !

@oldladyplays

I had a BBQ with so many friends old and new yesterday, and my girlfriend too. 🥰 Cis women, trans women, non-binary people, and a few token cis guys too 😅

My #TransJoy is knowing I'm loved and accepted as the woman I am. We drank "to community" at one point, and I meant it. Those attempting to drive trans folks to the margins won't succeed.

My #WidowJoy is about new growth. Many friends grew distant after I became a widow, but the most important have stuck by me. Two of my oldest friends were there, both bridesmaids at my wedding, and they met my new girlfriend and got on fabulously. And it was lovely to see all my new friends becoming good friends.

My #transjoy :

Seven years after I started transitioning, this is what I’m doing: resting, enjoying Dutch wine and cheese, and writing something I want to do a video on for my class.

Sorry to hear you're hurting.

Yesterday's #TransJoy came from having a couple of friends visit, for the first time since I came out to them.
Getting out of bed and thinking "yay! An excuse to put on my nicest bra and a full face of makeup!" These are still deeply affirming things for me.

Later, one of them asked me what transition has been like. When I told her I'd known genuine happiness for the first time, she leapt up and gave me the biggest hug.

#autisticJoy Noone at work knows i’m neurodivergent even though they are very neurodivergent friendly and i do have other neurodivergent coworkers. I love soft and comfy things so when it turned out we had a huge (like 150cm x 90 cm ish) soft beanbag i immediately went there whenever i was on my break. Since then the bean bag just has been in our shared space as an option.

We only have fixed computer work spaces so when I gushed at how great it is to sit in it and have a comfy place my boss brought up the idea of getting a work-laptop for the office so i could work in the bean bag. He keeps me updated and has told me he is advocating for the laptop.
A few days ago he added that I could also take the beanbag up to the fire escape and get even more comfy outside with good weather and not as much distraction and noise from coworkers.

It just made me feel so seen and understood without ever having to explain “i’m autistic and this is hard for me” it just warmed my heart. He is also very open about his attitude “just because it’s rough for me right now it does not have to be for you” and it is just so freaking nice to be so respected and cared for.

the looks on the faces of several trans, or gay, or envy, or whatever else people from other units when they realise my platoon almost uniformly wears progress pride patches instead of the regular ones we're officially required to wear.

I like my platoon 😁

I want to share a longer story that is not recent, but that I have thought about last week. It's about Carmina Burana, #transjoy , and things coming full circle.

When I was a teenager of about 14, 15 years, in a small town (and being categorized as a girl), I took part in my rather large school choir. It is special is a way - not only students, but also teachers, parents, and alumni. I loved singing Carmina Burana as an Alt voice, but knew I was in the wrong category. The conductor was also my music teacher, a passionate person about all acoustic things and highly talented.

Some twenty years later, after a lifetime of different experiences, I moved back to my hometown for a year. When I heard that the same person conducted the choir and Carmina Burana was done again, I joined, now as a Tenor. It was at the same time tricky (as some parts differ quite fundamentaly between those voices, and I had to stop myself from singing what I was used to) and very satisfactory as I could finally sing the male parts that I wanted.

I also discovered that the conductor and I had something in common: she was now living as the woman she had always been hiding inside. She also recognized me from my student days. We were never close back then, but seeing us both after transitioning gave us a kind of connection, of kinship in a way, that is hard to describe. I am grateful that we could have this moment together, of standing proudly on stage as us.

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