Spot of Wonder

I've spent the morning curled up on the couch with my partner and my metamour, showing each other music and eating together. The flowers I bought for Nikki are blooming bright and beautiful, bringing spring to the winter in a flash of daisies and yellows. Earlier I sipped blueberry tea with honey to soothe my sick throat, and now I'm about to start my day of errands, homework, and spending time with friends.

I still can't get over how full my life feels these days, and nearly all of it good. A room away, Nikki is starting to cook for a potluck later, and walking up the street through the park to my best friend's house flashes through my mind. Just then, Nikki takes a break from cooking and kisses my shoulder as she walks into the next room. As I smile at her, I've never felt more home in a person's eyes.

A year ago, my life would seem unimagineable: too good to exist. It still does, but I'm living it. My metamour walks in to the kitchen where I'm standing now, catching her breath from a jaunt through the cold outside, and I realize again that I have a family among my friends and loved ones as she smiles in my direction.

My five years on testosterone was less than two weeks ago. My twenty-ninth birthday is in four days. I smile as I glance around my home. I love my life.


Spot of Wonder

Wonderful memories from a wonderful 5 days with my amazing partner. I feel like I'm floating.

A journal found wandering a 3 story Barnes and Noble by the Chesapeake Bay

A journal found wandering a 3 story Barnes and Noble by the Chesapeake Bay

Petting jellyfish at the National Aquarium

Petting jellyfish at the National Aquarium

Dressing up just because

Dressing up just because

Cooking together

Cooking together



The kitchen herbs I'm growing for her sprouting

The kitchen herbs I'm growing for her sprouting

Letter from the Founder: #10

Whenever I notice a friend having a rough time, or they just wander through my mind, I like to send reminders of their importance to me.

So here's a friendly reminder for you:

You are worth more than the scars on your skin and the pain behind your eyes. They would have you believe you are nothing, but the atoms that form the people you love think they're nothing too, even as you see the galaxies spiraling in every smile. You are matter and light, and that matter has a place in this universe.

I love you.


Letter from the Founder #9

Hey you. I want you to know you matter. Whether you believe this is one in a series of lives, or, like me, believe this is all we've got, we're alive in this moment so let's own it.

Today, eat foods that fill you with joy and leave you glowing with health. Take a walk. Stare at the beauty of nature. Find joy in being here and being alive. No matter how tough things are right now, you've survived to this moment, and that's something worth being proud of.

Honor your body. Take a moment to sit in it and find things you love about it. Find gratitude and wonder in its unceasing fight for life.

What is your happiest memory? What aspect of it can you recreate in your life in this moment?

We are but a flicker in time, so shine your brightest and outdazzle the stars.

I love you.


Spot of Wonder

Life has been a lot lately. What with the political nightmare in the US, I've been pretty drained and overwhelmed. Yesterday was even more of a slice of hell, though, so I'm taking this moment to be grateful for the people in my life.

When I got harassed and frightened at uni yesterday, my friends rallied around and messaged me support and encouragement. My bestie pushed me to report the jerk, who worked at the school, and when I was crying in the hallway before class, my physics professor went with me to the dean's office to report the person at a higher level. My boyfriend, unfortunately far away in Florida, listened to me vent and offered e-hugs, support, and anger on my behalf.

I feel lucky to have such a wonderful, supportive group of people around me, and grateful to know that when the going gets hard, I'm not alone like I used to be. So for the friends reading this, I love you all, and for the future friends, I love you too. I feel so lucky, even amidst the stress.



Letter from the Founder #8

This fall, become more you. Let the cooling weather strip away the parts of yourself you no longer need. Let the shorter days take all your doubts and limiting beliefs. And as the leaves flame and then fall, let too your passions flame and your goals tumble before you. Focus, and do more than be. Become.

I love you.


Letter From the Founder #7

Hey you. Even in the moments where it feels like light and life has left you, remember you are not alone. When the sun only serves to highlight the emptiness, remember it just makes room for new things to fill and heal you. Reach out your hand, and reach out your voice.

Compliment a stranger’s clothes. Hold open a door for someone in a hurry. Little gestures can save a day, both for you and the one you are offering them to.

Dress to impress, even if the one you’re trying to impress is yourself. You are worth the effort.

Take yourself on a date. Do all the things that you most love and that most heal you. Eat your favorite foods. Draw, or watch a movie, or listen to that song you love that you’ve had stuck in your head for weeks. Find a quote that moves you. Put it on your wall.

Think of all the once-impossible things that have been achieved. Flight. The internet. Even the printing press. Set your own “impossible” goal, and start turning it into reality.

Page through a magazine and find a picture of something beautiful. Take a picture of yourself and find something beautiful in it. Make something beautiful, whether it’s a drawing or a bracelet or a movement.

Breathe. You are not alone.

I love you.


Letter From the Founder #6

Hey you. I know the world is sometimes so dark you forget the meaning of light, and I want you to know that light still exists anyway. Even if it's the flashlight on your cellphone struggling to burn a hole in the dark. Even if you've forgotten why you want to try to find it. There is light, and one of these days your eyes will adjust to see it.

The hurt doesn't go away. Not exactly. But the edge dulls, and the fear cracks and slowly begins to crumble. The shadows are just there to distinguish the light, though they cover nearly everything at first.

Then the sun begins its rise, one long, slow ray at a time. Second by second, moment by moment, the sky begins to come alive. Every time the sun sets, it will eventually rise. So take it one ray of light at a time.

I love you.


Grateful for Growth

G'morning! Today I am grateful for growth. I am lucky enough to have regular opportunities to grow as a person, through both good and bad experiences. What are you grateful for today?



I am not the tired metaphor of a phoenix,
burning to ash then hatching anew.
I am not a nestling, a seedling, a beginning.
Rising from depression to start again.

I am might and fury. I am glory that shines.
I am not just now beginning.
I am the sequel that's better than the first.
I am the crescendo, the tardigrade,

surviving even the vacuum of loss.

In those moments when the beat drops and I  f a l l,
Hibernation is but a pause.
I know the cold will eventually end,
and I will grow again.

I am greater when I rise.


From Wanting to Die to Coming Alive

About a year and and a half ago, I reached the highest weight of my life: 300 lbs. I was miserable. I'd been fighting with my insurance to get top surgery for 3 years at that point, and it still seemed impossible. I hated my body and could barely stomach walking near a mirror. I was depressed, self-destructive, and just wanted to die.

Life has come a long way since then.

On December 12, 2016, I had top surgery. While I still want revisions, the relief I felt was enough to keep me alive, and, slowly, to allow me to start transforming other parts of my life contributing to my depression.

I started losing weight. I dropped 28 lb in the first year, and another 19 in the past 6 months. I've tried to exercise a little each day, and be more mindful of what and how much I eat.

I dropped clothing sizes, too. 8 inches off my waist size, and 2 shirt sizes. Today, I weighed myself at 244 lb, and wore a medium shirt for the first time since my late teens.

Ten months ago, I also moved. Arizona contained a lot of ghosts: Streets where the exes who had raped me lived, constant reminders of other abusers, threats in bathrooms, alcohol drowning my friends, and too many people who called me by a name that had never been mine. A room I could afford had opened up in Pennsylvania, and I took the leap. I piled my possessions in my car and drove.

It was one of the best decisions of my life.

Slowly, I learned to trust. I learned what it felt like to be safe in my home. I made friends. I built a family from them, a family unlike the one I left behind.

And then I took another leap. I started to mend things with my blood family. We're learning to trust each other, and that is a precious gift.

As I got more comfortable in my new surroundings, I worked up the courage to reach out to larger and larger communities, and I came alive. I'd had a community I felt safe in when I lived in Arizona, but it was surrounded by misery, and for the first time, I feel like a person rather than a statistic.

For the first time, I feel safe and whole, alive and happy.

For the first time, I love my life.


Spot of Wonder #3

I'm happier than I've ever been, and so grateful for my life and the people in it. I never thought I'd be so at peace and in love with every moment I live, but I wake up every day excited for the new morning. I didn't know that life could feel so full. I didn't know that I could still feel alive with motivation while happy and at peace. I don't want to escape anymore. I want to live.


Rainbow Hair

Rainbow hair through the years. It's that time of year again for me and I'm feeling the itch for color. Show me your favorite rainbow hair pictures!


Spot of Wonder #2

Coming out of a very rough patch of sad and death. Today I woke up with a smile and a sappy heart for the first time in about a week. So here's a mussy-haired, freshly awake me signing "I love you."

Because, of course, I do.