Kaitlyn's Blog
dearcispeople:

Dear Cis People:
How dare you call me selfish? I spent a long time trying to suppress my true self just to please you, and when it turned out it was going to kill me to hide any longer, you decided your concern for normalcy was more important than my life. You’re the selfish ones here.

dearcispeople:

Dear Cis People:

How dare you call me selfish? I spent a long time trying to suppress my true self just to please you, and when it turned out it was going to kill me to hide any longer, you decided your concern for normalcy was more important than my life. You’re the selfish ones here.

dearcispeople:

Dear Cis People:
I’m dying and you’re telling me I’m being too loud. That is what is going on here.

dearcispeople:

Dear Cis People:

I’m dying and you’re telling me I’m being too loud. That is what is going on here.

dearcispeople:

Dear Cis People:
When you shoot me looks in the super market, all I do is smile at you. My girlfriend told me how good I look in my dresses, and you know what else she says? That you’re just jealous that I wear them better. I wish I could say that in confidence. Your look hurt me. You don’t even know my name, and you hurt me. I can’t comprehend how you could think you have the right to do that. I’ll say it: you don’t have the right to hurt me. No one does. To the lady at the market: Fuck you.

dearcispeople:

Dear Cis People:

When you shoot me looks in the super market, all I do is smile at you. My girlfriend told me how good I look in my dresses, and you know what else she says? That you’re just jealous that I wear them better. I wish I could say that in confidence. Your look hurt me. You don’t even know my name, and you hurt me. I can’t comprehend how you could think you have the right to do that. I’ll say it: you don’t have the right to hurt me. No one does. To the lady at the market: Fuck you.

pixography:

Laura Bifano

pixography:

Laura Bifano

epic-humor:

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I showed her how I’d been making tiny cuts in my skin to let the badness and pain leak out. They were shallow at first, and short, like claw marks made by a desperate cat that wanted to hide under the front porch. Cutting pain was a different flavor of hurt. It made it easier not to think about having my body and my family and my life stolen, made it easier not to care….
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