As a demisexual, the merest thought of the possibility regarding speculation about the idea of progressing from chats to irl encounters makes my haemorrhoids throb.
Some people think astrology is an embarrassing anachronism from a time when people looked to the skies and thought they could perceive the shapes of the gods. They weren’t really shapes though, because they change as soon as your perspective shifts. The gender binary is exactly the same.
Instead of getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing and fighting, one in three trans youth are experiencing major depression and one in two report self-harming.
Bonus free tip. If you own a penis, and you're wearing it under a short skirt, and you own a feisty cat, wear underpants. That Is All.
The second most horrific living nightmare is smelling of BO, specifically me believing other people thinking I smell of BO. It haunts me.
Gender identity is just some dumb, made-up shit that no-one really cares about in 2018. Gender identity is the new horoscopes.
I took the SAGE test and it told me I was in a minority as a bisexual androgynous male to female crossdresser. Ten minutes earlier I was just that guy you talk to in the office canteen; now I was Grayson Perry.