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FUN A DAY 2019 #17: Sierra

She regularly joked with her friends, familiar acquaintances, and colleagues, “I identify as an elite deviant transtrender, threat to women’s bathrooms, and drain on society.” She joked (‘jok more...

She regularly joked with her friends, familiar acquaintances, and colleagues, “I identify as an elite deviant transtrender, threat to women’s bathrooms, and drain on society.” She joked (‘joked’) about it for the same reason all her gay, trans, Jewish and disabled friends did: because it would have been impossible to adequately process, bear, or grieve otherwise. Because confronting the way in which bigots demonized you directly made you angry, and anger was a kind of strength. Because when you thought about it, it was funny, their fear and their hatred and their inability to deal with another person’s humanity was absurd, and a little pathetic. Because it was better than quietly dwelling on her anxiety, on this deeply buried panic that at some point, her parents and her sisters might lose their patience, might change their minds about her, might suddenly morph into strangers who couldn’t and wouldn’t support her anymore. They’d never given her any reason to think that they might turn on her in this way, but the world made it impossible for her to not worry about this, even if she only considered it in her lowest and darkest moments.
She was a charismatic extrovert, who socialized and made friends easily, and she spent most of her evenings at her friends’ house shows and parties, entertaining and chatting and flirting with as many eligible young women as possible. She had long legs, a muscular build, and an irresistible, slightly crooked smile, and she went on what even she found to be a surprising number of dates. She also forced herself to spend at least some time alone every day though, she went to the gym several days a week, for both strength training and stress management purposes, and she tried to spend at least one night a week with herself, her small collection of skin and haircare treatments and products, her growing wardrobe, and her records. She tried out ‘deep hydration’ and vitamin c products on her pale and freckled face, conditioned her long, curly, red-brown hair, and trimmed and painted her nails odd shades of blue, orange, green, purple, and grey. She looked at fashion blogs and puzzled over what other women chose to buy and wear, and tried to be thoughtful about her clothes. She typically wore shamelessly tight jeans and band tee shirts that she’d cut into tanks and crop tops, but she liked to fantasize about the kind of garments she could maybe wear some day, what kind of woman she would decide to be in the near future.
She tried to wring as much joy and action out of every moment as she could. On as many days as she had the energy for it, she tried to go somewhere new either in her neighborhood or near work, to find something she hadn’t noticed yet and figure out how to appreciate it. On those days, she also made herself text or dm someone about her discovery, a friend or sex partner or someone she’d recently spoken to and connected with, whoever in her circle would appreciate what she’d stumbled across. It was strange, she loved meeting and talking to people, and she cemented and worked on her friendships, she was loyal and protective, but part of her wanted to be completely independent, or to withdraw from everyone and everything. Something about sharing her daily adventures was difficult for her, but she made herself do it.
She was much more comfortable at parties and shows, where it wasn’t really possible to get sucked into a deep conversation, or not for too long, or even on a date, where she could focus on further flattering and seducing the woman she was with. She was particularly good at being present, and at getting you to be in the moment with her, and she had an absolutely filthy sense of humor. Whether she was in bed or in a friend’s basement, she had this uncanny knack for utterly disarming you, for making you cackle riotously, and also embarrassing or shocking your slightly, coaxing you out of whatever shell you might be hiding within, and opening you up to some unexpected experience or new idea or some other delight. But she could be impatient, and reflexively judgmental when people hesitated or seemed afraid. Sometimes she withdrew her attention and affection abruptly when she sensed their apprehension, and had no idea how cold it could feel. She could guess that this was probably hurtful, but as a young woman, she avoided thinking this through, and denied her own fear of getting caught up in other people’s issues and insecurities. She partied, instead, and told herself that she’d have plenty of time to confront herself later, not knowing how prescient this was.
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8 tracks
  • 22min
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  • One year ago