I am just a human and nothing more. I'm only as special as you make me out to be. Adrienne (you may have known me as Andy in a former life)/Trans Woman/Queer or Lesbian/28
Formerly IAmNotHome
It has been a long time since I paid any mind to this account. I am here to make a gigantic life announcement.
On July 11th, 2023, my life changed forever when I asked my sister if I could put on her black dress (in the photos below). In that exact moment, I felt a cold rush of euphoric bliss as the dress fit me–something unlike anything I felt before. On a whim, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror with my phone and took the first photo below–I saw her. I knew from the cold chills right then and there that my egg had cracked and that I am a trans woman.
From there, my ADHD hyperfixations had spent most of the time since in an intense focus on getting to the bottom of things. And once it was certain (self-doubt be damned), focused on getting my ducks in a row to transition socially and physically. I came out to my family less than a week after I realized myself–I simply went to sleep in a dress and didn’t give a fuck who saw me. I figured that if I was half-asleep, I would have time to make myself spill the beans before processing enough to put myself in a panic. Not that I had cause to panic much since I am grateful that my family is either supportive (my mom; one of my younger brothers) or part of the LGBT+ community (my other younger brother and my two younger sisters) themselves. As such, all of them supported me the instant I came out and picked my name of “Adrienne.” Hell, my sisters even got me dresses and taught me how to do makeup for my 28th birthday on July the 19th–and later took me thrift-shopping for even more dresses (my favorite photos of which are included)
Even though I never felt any signs of being trans before 7/11/2023, in hindsight, there may have been quite a few signs in my memories. Such as when I was in kindergarden, I recall saying to someone that “if I was a girl, I’d look forward to being pregnant,” something which I said ignorant of how hard pregnancy is on a human body–but perhaps is something that should’ve been a sign. Or all the times I felt as though I related to women more than men in a social sense–loathing toxic masculinity was normal for me, but even the non-toxic parts of it felt like I was just coasting. Or the times in Uni where my social anxiety (likely a product of my autism) plus my brain fog (which I now know was likely the product of then-undetected gender dysphoria) led me to believe that I was so bad at befriending women that I was a serial harasser–something I blamed myself in a now-misdirected sense of self-loathing that I thought only plunging into my academics (at the expense of a social life) would cure. Or my general sense of depression over much of my post-Uni life that I had no idea of the cause–until my egg cracked and I saw the problem right in the eyes.
Not going to lie, seeing posts on Reddit, Discord, and Mastodon from other transfemmes (especially those with Autism and ADHD–like myself) with similar life experiences to me and befriending them ended up assuring me that I was never broken. Just misdirected the entire time. And little things like dresses, makeup, shaving my legs, stuffing a sports-bra to give myself the convincing illusion of breasts, and feeling as though I am swimming in my pool for the first time in my own body since pre-puberty. Every day since my egg cracked, my resolve that I am a trans woman has only grown more-and-more.
In the afternoon on my 28th birthday (7/19/2023), I took my phone with me to walk to the woods outside the front yard of the lake house I was spending the week with my family on vacation. I was determined to make the call to my local Planned Parenthood to schedule an HRT consultation under informed consent. While I was successful, I was taken a bit aback by the fact that the waitlist for it is so backed up that the soonest I could be scheduled was October 2nd. After I successfully scheduled myself, my immediate thought was “I don’t want to have to wait that long.” And so later that week (upon returning to my hometown), I was directed by someone on Mastodon to a DIY HRT directory of international pharmacies that I can order HRT from. I chose to order 2mg Estradiol and 100mg Spiro from Thailand and–last I checked–the shipment is on the plane now and will arrive anywhere between 8/15/2023 and 9/5/2023. It is a 3 month supply of HRT–long enough to last until the consultation gives me officially regulated hormones yet short enough that I won’t suffer health problems from being unable to check my bloodwork.
Even though I am resolute that transitioning is the only correct choice for me, I will not lie that I have some anxieties about this still. Not with the transition itself, but some things that accompany this. Since I couldn’t immediately afford to bank sperm, a major source of anxiety is and was having to make the choice between fulfilling myself or having bio kids. As is, my options for children are hoping I get supremely lucky with some still-active swimmers, hope I can go off hormones and bank sperm at a time where I have a stable income (I’m also using a job coach system to place me into a job now–and the system knows of and is supportive of my transition), adopt children, or end up step-parenting a child of a future date. I don’t see adopting or step-parenting a child as meaning that that child is less ‘mine’ than a biological kid, but I do think having a bio kid would be nice when the time is right to raise them (probably a decade down the road). I hope that future generations of trans people do not have to make this choice. And that isn’t even considering that the idea of bottom surgery has crossed my mind a few times–I don’t dislike my natal genitals, but think it’d be cooler and more gender-affirming with a vagina (that’s just me personally—you are valid if you don’t agree with me); it’s a thought I’ll put a pin in for now and see how I feel down the road.
The other annoyance is my mom. Yes, she is supportive of my choice to go on hormones (I haven’t told her the DIY HRT route as she is a stickler for offical pharmacutical medications and I don’t want to worry her unless the signs of feminization become too noticeable to hide). However, she is just as surprised about this as I am. She thinks I am going too fast–aka, she hasn’t been aware that transition can come from euphoria instead of dysphoric suffering. I’m glad I didn’t have to suffer in order to realize my identity and hope it becomes more accepted that that is a valid path to realizing yourself. But mom is slow to adapting her terms. She thinks “Andi” (just one letter off from my deadname) is a sufficient nickname for “Adrienne” instead of “Adri” or even “Addie.” And she’s also referred to me as “he” or “son” when I am neither. I’ve gently starting nudging her as of today, but something tells me it will take a little bit to get her to adjust.
Overall, I am excited to begin my body transitioning into a female form. I’ve made peace that I probably was a woman the whole time. My brain fog may have been caused by years under the wrong hormones (testosterone instead of estrogen). I want my body to run on the correct fuel. Give me no brain fog, give me soft skin, give me reduced body hair, give me greater emotional range, give me girlsmell, give me boobs. And at this point, I love being trans. Because in a way, all the questioning that got me here made me more sure of who I am—almost as though the end-result is an hard-earned victory that I am eager to claim the spoils to.
As for fighting the political battle against transphobia, I’m all for it as a liberal and as a human being who is appalled with what is going on. However, I am focusing all my energy on transitioning at the moment. When I have energy to spare, I will fight the good fight. But I have to live life a little bit as me first.
EDIT: One thing I forgot to mention in the large body is that paying for the DIY HRT put me back on my insurance payments and that I will need mutual aid in order to pay my insurance so that I can afford the officially prescribed HRT after the Planned Parenthood consultation. Below are links to my PayPal and Venmo accounts. If anyone would like to donate, it would be VERY much appreciated. But only donate if you can do so without putting yourselves in financial jeopardy.
I just got an updated tracking status on the delivery of my HRT. It is now out for final delivery and could arrive any day now.
Which means I’m probably going to have to hold off on taking it for a little bit after it arrives so I can donate my sperm to have it banked. Otherwise, I’d start the instant the pills arrive.
Speaking of which, here’s the GoFundMe again for funding my initial banking and storage. Because this whole thing just HAD to happen when I’m in a slow job placement process via Vocational Rehab.
Just a few minutes ago, I ran an errand with mom. And in the passenger’s seat of the car, I see a package addressed to me.
The HRT is here. But I’ll probably have to hold off on starting until after I bank. Hopefully, I’ll be able to ride out euphoria until then.
The same day I got the HRT, I thought to myself “Just one dose of HRT should not be enough to nuke my fertility, right?” and took my first dose shortly before dinner.
I felt an instant warm calm flood every nerve in my body the instant the pills touched my tongue. At which point I thought “I have a great reward for me once I bank my sperm.” Turns out that trying to hold off going full-tilt on HRT after having a taste is a bit of a ‘fuck-around and find-out’ endeavor. Because the instant the HRT wore off, it was like every nerve in my body was now being endlessly brushed up against pins and needles.
So now I had a choice to make: see what mail-order sperm kit (probably Legacy) I can order with what I’ve raised so far and see if I’m still fertile in under a week while reducing my dosages of HRT (specifically, halving the Spiro) or continue being miserable while holding off full-tilt transition.
As much as biological kids would be nice one day, I feel like I have to listen to my body on this one. Listening to my body was ultimately what led to the realization that I am a trans woman, so doing so has served me well recently. The fact that I’m still willing to try to bank sperm is evidence that I will try my best for a bio kid still, but if the sperm sample is non-viable, I’ll take it as a sign that bio kids were just not meant for me. But I won’t be too upset that I chose to listen to myself instead. Besides, I can still have kids one day even if this doesn’t work: adoption, step-parent a cis woman’s kid(s), having frozen sperm from a T4T partner + a surrogate mother, and probably a few other ways. And just because they wouldn’t be mine biologically doesn’t mean that I’d love them any less.
In other thoughts, the walk from my house to the post office after I produce the sample will be a 10-15 minute walk. As such, it’ll be the first time that I have walked outside my immediate neighborhood in full-blown femme attire. If I feel comfortable enough doing so that I’d be willing to do it regularly, there is also a Planet Fitness right by that post office.
So I may listen to my body again once I start full-tilt transition (with no reduced doses) and start working out on my health. Funny how when you start liking who you are, you feel the need to start taking care of yourself.
Once the sperm is banked, I will also set my next hyperfixation: finally working on getting my driver’s license.
As for what the extra amount of money in the donations will be used for? I’m thinking of splitting it into two halves: half for emergency stuff, half for what I’m referring to as #TransGirlStarterPack , for lack of a better term.
I just got an updated tracking status on the delivery of my HRT. It is now out for final delivery and could arrive any day now.
Which means I’m probably going to have to hold off on taking it for a little bit after it arrives so I can donate my sperm to have it banked. Otherwise, I’d start the instant the pills arrive.
Speaking of which, here’s the GoFundMe again for funding my initial banking and storage. Because this whole thing just HAD to happen when I’m in a slow job placement process via Vocational Rehab.
I just got an updated tracking status on the delivery of my HRT. It is now out for final delivery and could arrive any day now.
Which means I’m probably going to have to hold off on taking it for a little bit after it arrives so I can donate my sperm to have it banked. Otherwise, I’d start the instant the pills arrive.
Speaking of which, here’s the GoFundMe again for funding my initial banking and storage. Because this whole thing just HAD to happen when I’m in a slow job placement process via Vocational Rehab.
Mutual Aid Request for future fertility before starting HRT
I looked up the initial cost of freezing sperm at my local clinics. For those that do not know, HRT has a chance of inducing infertility. Although SOME trans women have reported being able to temporarily come off HRT to restore fertility in order to bank, there is no guarantee of it being successful. There is also the fact that coming off HRT for any extended period of time induces a miserable experience in trans folks that I’ve heard horror stories about–one that I would like to avoid if possible. The more I think of it, the more that I want to be able to start a family with someone someday 10-15 years down the road–directly if my partner is a cis woman or with a surrogate if my partner is another trans woman. Sure, adoption is awesome and I’d still love an adopted child like my own, but I’d choose to have at least one bio kid if I can.
That is where you come in: I’m asking for your help. I am still in a state where job coaches are being met with (the process is slow, but I look to have a job by year’s end–one which will allow me to transition openly in the workplace), so I don’t have a stable income just yet. But I’m confident that I will by the time the annual fee comes about, I will have enough of an income to budget that accordingly. So any donations to help for this goal would be appreciated.
I have no qualms about being aggressive with promoting this fundraiser if I need to be. Much like transitioning itself, I’m going to treat it like a marathon, not a sprint.
Also, I updated the description towards the end of the GoFundMe. If I hit the goal and end up having a surplus amount, I haven’t thought of specifically what I’ll use it for. However, I feel as though it would only be right if any extra money is used for items, clothes, tools, etc that would help out living life as a trans woman. So a “Trans Girl Starter Pack,” if you will.
i think one of the most important things you learn about making connections with others is that a significant portion of the time people just do not know theyre doing what theyre doing
sometimes someone is acting selfish because they just didnt think you had any interest in what theyre hogging. sometimes you dont get invited to the movies because your friend could have sworn that you said no. sometimes you think someone is mad at you because theyre bad at hiding how little sleep they got. we are all like little worlds that briefly crash into one another from time to time and we just arent physically capable of seeing the whole picture at once in those moments. and learning that really changed everything!
Mutual Aid Request for future fertility before starting HRT
I looked up the initial cost of freezing sperm at my local clinics. For those that do not know, HRT has a chance of inducing infertility. Although SOME trans women have reported being able to temporarily come off HRT to restore fertility in order to bank, there is no guarantee of it being successful. There is also the fact that coming off HRT for any extended period of time induces a miserable experience in trans folks that I’ve heard horror stories about–one that I would like to avoid if possible. The more I think of it, the more that I want to be able to start a family with someone someday 10-15 years down the road–directly if my partner is a cis woman or with a surrogate if my partner is another trans woman. Sure, adoption is awesome and I’d still love an adopted child like my own, but I’d choose to have at least one bio kid if I can.
That is where you come in: I’m asking for your help. I am still in a state where job coaches are being met with (the process is slow, but I look to have a job by year’s end–one which will allow me to transition openly in the workplace), so I don’t have a stable income just yet. But I’m confident that I will by the time the annual fee comes about, I will have enough of an income to budget that accordingly. So any donations to help for this goal would be appreciated.
Mutual Aid Request for future fertility before starting HRT
I looked up the initial cost of freezing sperm at my local clinics. For those that do not know, HRT has a chance of inducing infertility. Although SOME trans women have reported being able to temporarily come off HRT to restore fertility in order to bank, there is no guarantee of it being successful. There is also the fact that coming off HRT for any extended period of time induces a miserable experience in trans folks that I’ve heard horror stories about–one that I would like to avoid if possible. The more I think of it, the more that I want to be able to start a family with someone someday 10-15 years down the road–directly if my partner is a cis woman or with a surrogate if my partner is another trans woman. Sure, adoption is awesome and I’d still love an adopted child like my own, but I’d choose to have at least one bio kid if I can.
That is where you come in: I’m asking for your help. I am still in a state where job coaches are being met with (the process is slow, but I look to have a job by year’s end–one which will allow me to transition openly in the workplace), so I don’t have a stable income just yet. But I’m confident that I will by the time the annual fee comes about, I will have enough of an income to budget that accordingly. So any donations to help for this goal would be appreciated.
I reblogged this last month, tagged it, and said “might as well see if it works.” I used this video as a reference to find all the forms that i needed (which is A LOT, especially if you’re a dependent) and sent them through the mail, not really allowing myself to hope.
dude.
$2,714 of medical debt from my top surgery - gone. im shaking this was such a weight on me for 2 years and it fucking worked. what the fuck.
re-reblogging and thinking about when i have another collection agency calling that i can just do this
Some of you might remember a couple of years ago when Scarlett Johansson sued Disney because she was making significantly less money for Black Widow than was guaranteed in her contract because so many more people watched it on streaming than in theaters, how there was a massive misinformation campaign from Disney that a ton of people on this website (and Twitter and other social media) bought into: That she was a greedy bitch who didn’t respect people who needed to stay at home during the pandemic (I believe the word “ableist” was thrown around with aplomb) as opposed to someone who just wanted to be paid what she was owed. What was literally in her contract!!! And where everyone who took more than a couple minutes to actually look into and think about the situation could figure out that her issue wasn’t with streaming itself, but with how little streaming was allowed to get away with paying her and other actors. But of course, a lot of people just saw the chance to dunk on a rich woman, and didn’t think about it beyond readying some snarky tags and hit reblog. And in doing so, threw their support behind a much wealthier, greedier studio head who is already using similar language to describe the current strike.
Anyway we’re going to see a lot of that from studios now, especially now that actors have joined the WGA and it’s easier to sell them as rich and greedy than writers, because of this cultural stereotype we have of all Hollywood actors as celebrities. Don’t fall for it. SAG-AFTRA represents people like Tom Cruise and ScarJo but it also represents the kind of people who played a Borg in two episodes of Star Trek: Voyager in 1997 or who had one line in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel as an enthusiastic audience member. Most actors are not crazy wealthy, and in fact, if you’re a big TV fan (especially older TV and genre TV) that likely includes some actor names that you know, who played supporting roles in your fav shows, or who were even a star in something decades ago but haven’t done anything major since. The AFTRA side also represents people like radio broadcasters. But even beside that, all workers deserve to be fairly compensated for the work they do, and the threat of replacing them with AI, or real actors being required to sign contracts to allow their likenesses to be used by AI forever without paying them, is an existential threat to acting as a profession in general. The actors are in the right. The writers are in the right. The studios are in the wrong. The studios have exploited new technology to get away with horrifying labor practices for years and their feet need to be put to the fire. Circulate the articles about how poorly the Orange is the New Black cast was compensated for making one of the defining shows of the early streaming boom, and of the studios saying they want to force writers to starve and lose their homes. Don’t get distracted by propaganda aping progressive-sounding language about wealthy celebrities. Focus on the real enemy, the truly greedy fat cats who care more about money than people and art: the studios.
friendly reminder that characters don’t need to be saints to be entertaining. and telling a story does not mean endorsement. art does not need to be all about morally good people.
IDK if this was meant as hyperbole but it’s literally true:
We are genuinely in a crisis of media literacy, with ever fewer genuinely factual resources available in the style and language used by contemporary audiences.
It may sound condescending, but we genuinely need to remind people, or worse, explain to them for the first time that art is not evidence of real world behaviour.
So, thank you, for this reminder. Genuinely.
You’re correct:
Art does not need to feature exclusively morally pure characters. Art is not proof of the creator’s secret, violent desires.
If you’re into sissy stuff, more power to you. There is nothing inherently wrong with it, and it has its own place in the kink community.
However.
If you directly compare having a sissy kink to being transfem, you’re hurting a whole lot of people.
I’m a woman.
I go to work as a woman.
I have dinner as a woman.
I file my taxes as a woman.
I drive to doctors appointments as a woman.
I have sex as a woman.
Nothing about what I do is for pretend or for guilt-induced pleasure.
When sissy porn blogs like and reblog my pictures, I am directly compared to people who have a kink for being forced into feminization as a man, typically by other men.
Do you understand how invalidating that is?
I don’t belong in that space. By putting me there, you are saying that I am just a hyper-feminised man, which I am NOT.
If you want to support the trans community AND have a sissy kink, don’t fucking reblog my shit onto your sissy porn blog.
Barbie (2023) really had Barbie say “hey. I know the reason you hurt me is because I hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt you, because you didn’t deserve that. I know you are a better person than this, and you are fully capable of being that person. I can’t change the past, and I don’t think we can be in each other’s lives anymore without hurting each other, but i am sorry and I want you to be happy. I want you to find your identity and love yourself and live.” and then she realizes she’s also talking about herself.
she’s saying “I deserve to live. We both deserve to live.” it is one of the kindest things I have ever seen done to someone and to themselves in any piece of media ever
It has been a long time since I paid any mind to this account. I am here to make a gigantic life announcement.
On July 11th, 2023, my life changed forever when I asked my sister if I could put on her black dress (in the photos below). In that exact moment, I felt a cold rush of euphoric bliss as the dress fit me–something unlike anything I felt before. On a whim, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror with my phone and took the first photo below–I saw her. I knew from the cold chills right then and there that my egg had cracked and that I am a trans woman.
From there, my ADHD hyperfixations had spent most of the time since in an intense focus on getting to the bottom of things. And once it was certain (self-doubt be damned), focused on getting my ducks in a row to transition socially and physically. I came out to my family less than a week after I realized myself–I simply went to sleep in a dress and didn’t give a fuck who saw me. I figured that if I was half-asleep, I would have time to make myself feel like in a panic. Not that I had cause to panic much since I am grateful that my family is either supportive (my mom; one of my younger brothers) or part of the LGBT+ community (my other younger brother and my two younger sisters) themselves. As such, all of them supported me the instant I came out and picked my name of “Adrienne.” Hell, my sisters even got me dresses and taught me how to do makeup for my 28th birthday on July the 19th–and later took me thrift-shopping for even more dresses (my favorite photos of which are included)
Even though I never felt any signs of being trans before 7/11/2023, in hindsight, there may have been quite a few signs in my memories. Such as when I was in kindergarden, I recall saying to someone that “if I was a girl, I’d look forward to being pregnant,” something which I said ignorant of how hard pregnancy is on a human body–but perhaps is something that should’ve been a sign. Or all the times I felt as though I related to women more than men in a social sense–loathing toxic masculinity was normal for me, but even the non-toxic parts of it felt like I was just coasting. Or the times in Uni where my social anxiety (likely a product of my autism) plus my brain fog (which I now know was likely the product of then-undetected gender dysphoria) led me to believe that I was so bad at befriending women that I was a serial harasser–something I blamed myself in a now-misdirected sense of self-loathing that I thought only plunging into my academics (at the expense of a social life) would cure. Or my general sense of depression over much of my post-Uni life that I had no idea of the cause–until my egg cracked and I saw the problem right in the eyes.
Not going to lie, seeing posts on Reddit, Discord, and Mastodon from other transfemmes (especially those with Autism and ADHD–like myself) with similar life experiences to me and befriending them ended up assuring me that I was never broken. Just misdirected the entire time. And little things like dresses, makeup, shaving my legs, stuffing a sports-bra to give myself the convincing illusion of breasts, and feeling as though I am swimming in my pool for the first time in my own body since pre-puberty. Every day since my egg cracked, my resolve that I am a trans woman has only grown more-and-more.
In the afternoon on my 28th birthday (7/19/2023), I took my phone with me to walk to the woods outside the front yard of the lake house I was spending the week with my family on vacation. I was determined to make the call to my local Planned Parenthood to schedule an HRT consultation under informed consent. While I was successful, I was taken a bit aback by the fact that the waitlist for it is so backed up that the soonest I could be scheduled was October 2nd. After I successfully scheduled myself, my immediate thought was “I don’t want to have to wait that long.” And so later that week (upon returning to my hometown), I was directed by someone on Mastodon to a DIY HRT directory of international pharmacies that I can order HRT from. I chose to order 2mg Estradiol and 100mg Spiro from Thailand and–last I checked–the shipment is on the plane now and will arrive anywhere between 8/15/2023 and 9/5/2023. It is a 3 month supply of HRT–long enough to last until the consultation gives me officially regulated hormones yet short enough that I won’t suffer health problems from being unable to check my bloodwork.
Even though I am resolute that transitioning is the only correct choice for me, I will not lie that I have some anxieties about this still. Not with the transition itself, but some things that accompany this. Since I couldn’t immediately afford to bank sperm, a major source of anxiety is and was having to make the choice between fulfilling myself or having bio kids. As is, my options for children are hoping I get supremely lucky with some still-active swimmers, hope I can go off hormones and bank sperm at a time where I have a stable income (I’m also using a job coach system to place me into a job now–and the system knows of and is supportive of my transition), adopt children, or end up step-parenting a child of a future date. I don’t see adopting or step-parenting a child as meaning that that child is less ‘mine’ than a biological kid, but I do think having a bio kid would be nice when the time is right to raise them (probably a decade down the road). I hope that future generations of trans people do not have to make this choice. And that isn’t even considering that the idea of bottom surgery has crossed my mind a few times–I don’t dislike my natal genitals, but think it’d be cooler and more gender-affirming with a vagina (that’s just me personally—you are valid if you don’t agree with me); it’s a thought I’ll put a pin in for now and see how I feel down the road.
The other annoyance is my mom. Yes, she is supportive of my choice to go on hormones (I haven’t told her the DIY HRT route as she is a stickler for offical pharmacutical medications and I don’t want to worry her unless the signs of feminization become too noticeable to hide). However, she is just as surprised about this as I am. She thinks I am going too fast–aka, she hasn’t been aware that transition can come from euphoria instead of dysphoric suffering. I’m glad I didn’t have to suffer in order to realize my identity and hope it becomes more accepted that that is a valid path to realizing yourself. But mom is slow to adapting her terms. She thinks “Andi” (just one letter off from my deadname) is a sufficient nickname for “Adrienne” instead of “Adri” or even “Addie.” And she’s also referred to me as “he” or “son” when I am neither. I’ve gently starting nudging her as of today, but something tells me it will take a little bit to get her to adjust.
Overall, I am excited to begin my body transitioning into a female form. I’ve made peace that I probably was a woman the whole time. My brain fog may have been caused by years under the wrong hormones (testosterone instead of estrogen). I want my body to run on the correct fuel. Give me no brain fog, give me soft skin, give me reduced body hair, give me greater emotional range, give me girlsmell, give me boobs. And at this point, I love being trans. Because in a way, all the questioning that got me here made me more sure of who I am—almost as though the end-result is an hard-earned victory that I am eager to claim the spoils to.
As for fighting the political battle against transphobia, I’m all for it as a liberal and as a human being who is appalled with what is going on. However, I am focusing all my energy on transitioning at the moment. When I have energy to spare, I will fight the good fight. But I have to live life a little bit as me first.
EDIT: One thing I forgot to mention in the large body is that paying for the DIY HRT put me back on my insurance payments and that I will need mutual aid in order to pay my insurance so that I can afford the officially prescribed HRT after the Planned Parenthood consultation. Below are links to my PayPal and Venmo accounts. If anyone would like to donate, it would be VERY much appreciated. But only donate if you can do so without putting yourselves in financial jeopardy.
I am just a human and nothing more. I'm only as special as you make me out to be. Adrienne (you may have known me as Andy in a former life)/Trans Woman/Queer or Lesbian/28
