Hello World III

12/01/2023

Hello World III

Hello again, reader of personal websites in the year of our dark lords, 2023! If you read my posts from before and were worried, I do apologize... kept you waiting, huh? If this is the case, you're going to get a full-on reintroduction to your lofi web~~master~~mistress, so

Get Ready For The May Pride Parade

Around two years ago, I was doing what I could to get the wreck of my life back to something resembling normalcy. Starting this site and doing what I could to make the strained relations between my last roommate... my ex and I a little better, trying to clean up as the country opened up but still bearing mental scars from being pushed back into a survival mindset after years of trying to escape from the survival mindset.

As I did what I could to clean up my life, the United States was doing what it could to clean itself up. It felt like even doing something as simple as taking the harm reduction option to political thinking would be an impossibility and I found myself glued to the worst parts of the internet in fear of what might happen. My brain was a mess for most of January 2021, and it didn't start to calm down until I could be certain that we wouldn't have to deal with four more years of D*nald fucking Tr*mp.

In the middle of this catharsis I started to feel a lot of really strange things, all at once. I went on a tear on Twitter over some middle and elementary school pain that I hadn't thought about in years, friends and bullies and an entire world that I had existed in up until my mother's divorce in 2000 and my family's exodus westward. I was watching a mask slip that I'd worn even before then, slowly worn down by years of trying to figure out why I felt so worthless and why I couldn't see anything worthwhile in my life or hobbies outside of my life as a wannabe chef.

One day when things had calmed down, I sat in my room in the bright pink DDR hoodie that my partner had gotten me for Christmas and a pair of cute purple shoes and thought about how my collection of jean pants wouldn't do, when the most powerful thought entered my head:
why not wear a skirt with it?
This thought was invasive and all-consuming for the longest time. I felt absolutely mad, and I wore one of my partner's skirts for days until we could afford one of my own. I referred to this feeling riding piggyback in my head as The Skirt Gremlin and when I could satisfy it I felt the most amazing burst of joy in my brain. It's not the first time I tried to adopt some personal fashion, but the switch to skirts has been one of the more positive and self-motivated style changes I've made at all, ever.

I spent a lot of time trying to justify to myself the idea of being a guy with a bit of gender queerness to myself, but the Gremlin in my head wouldn't back down and a week after I had found a new interest I sat outside in the cold and accepted the fact that I wanted boobs to go with the skirt. I couldn't accept being a genderqueer boy because I was a genderqueer girl. I came out to my partner and close friends, and eventually the internet, as May Dynamic, a name which it turns out has a lot of weird meanings to me!
None of which will be delved into in any sort of depth here.

Reinventing Meikyujima

It's been over two and a half years since I first came to that conclusion, and two years since I began hormone therapy to set right what fate had done me dirty on. Things have been tumultuous, and the world's recent turn towards populist appeals and singling out of trans folk as some kind of insidious evil is as annoying and wrongheaded as it's ever been, though for some reason the thought of this now being a very personal issue has made it less anxiety-provoking than ever.

Over this time I've felt more in touch with myself than I ever have, and at times this has led me to feeling absolutely unsteady about my life. My partner broke up with me for good reason and I've been pushing slowly through a depressive phase that felt like losing a big part of myself and pushed me back towards my past hikikomori tendencies. I've been having to rebuild the way I see the world around me, an ongoing project for someone that's always tried to handle her own shit on the sly to varying levels of success. I might not be an island but at times I feel like I live on one, and I've not done the best job at keeping the place hospitable.

The most overgrown place on the island, of course, is its digital presence... I've been shutting myself in online for ages. Social media was a mistake, and I've yearned for the sweet smell of the lofi blog site that looks like it was last updated in 2007. This is that for me, and for now it's a bit of a work in progress. I'd like to get back to writing more. It's therapeutic, and a place like this a bit outside the public eye is something I'd prefer over just having a private social media account. It's in my ancestral internet DNA, my hollow robot bones.

In doing so, as always, I leave behind a digital paper trail so I don't forget who I've been. If you're interested in keeping up with a weird girl made of starstuff, expect thoughts on video games and esoteric nonsense, sometimes more the latter than the former.