Sometimes growing up is being given a large left boot all polished and pretty but nothing else and being told that “You’ll grow into it someday.” they’ve given you nothin’ but a boot and expect you to hobble around barefoot until it fits.

So you stuff it in your drawer for that someday while walking around barefoot waiting for the day the shoe fits. It’ll fit you someday. And you’ll fit it back someday. Someday.

You open the drawer over and over again thinking “Maybe today is the day.” but it isn’t. You sit there wanting to cry because your feet are sore and tired with your skin begging to finally fall off the bone and you’ve been waiting for the damn shoe to fit all this time. To just fucking fit you. Fucking fit you because you were told it would and you’ve only those words to trust.

Years go by, and the shoe still don’t fit. Either it’s too big or too small for your foot. You’ve torn holes into it trying to force it to fit your foot and it’s holding on by string and leather. It’s far from the perfect boot it was when you first got it. And a whole lot closer to a single torn sole of a boot left in some small town backyard.

All you know is that it’ll fit you. And you’ve had nothing but the focused pain in your scabbed feet to carry you around. It has to fit you. It has to. It has to or you’ve spent all this time waiting for it to fit and it never will. Then you focus on the never will part. Really, what if it never does? If it never does and you’ve spent all the time in pain waiting and waiting and waiting for nothing? Dese God you hope that’s not it.

It’s been decades and there’s all kinds of shoe stores in your area with good boots looking real pretty in the windows. You hold out. You refuse to buy them because your boot WILL fit. It WILL. You go home and look in that drawer one last time. Dig the left boot out and put it on your begging left foot. There are two ways this can go although those two ways can lead to different things in the future. Way one, it doesn’t fit. Again, it’s too small or too big. You sit there frustrated because its been decades and you’re not sure if the boot has decades more to go based on how worn it is. You’re not sure if your feet have decades based on how worn they are. You’re not sure if you have decades. Now what? Way two, it does fit. It finally fits. But, you only have a single left boot. You’ve waited all this time and there’s no right boot to fit your worn and torn right foot. Now what?

Those two ways can lead to plenty of now whats. You waited decades for a single boot to fit you and for a single foot to fit it back. And it was all in vain. You have no shoe you can depend on now because it’s all frilled leather and frayed lace that’s one try on away from turning into dust. And it was all in vain. You wonder for the rest of your life about that boot. There’ll be plenty of other boots and but they’ll never be that boot. Solace is both found and not found.

That’s it. Sometimes your childhood is a boot that you’re waiting to fit so bad it becomes a religion and that’s all you have to go off of. This is a 10:38 rant so yeah. Yeah that’s it.

I will never understand the narrative that people have to stay the same throughout their life when it comes to orientations and identities.

Hey, it’s almost like people change constantly and things don’t have to be set in stone?

Isn’t the expectation that we change and stay changing since we have plenty of life lived and unlived?

People can be queer and not have their identities be forever, cishet people always question about whether queer people are sure about it or if they’ll change their mind and it’s like, maybe, so what? How is that the worst thing? When it comes to genderqueer people most understand surgery and what it means in the long run but so what? What’s it to you, the person that isn’t in their skin? Dear gods give it a rest.

My favorite dynamics firstly include lovers to friends except the relationship is stronger and or friendly and does not come in the way of any relationships they have after (points if they’re aspec).

Secondly, people who decide to raise children together platonically biological, adopted, or so and so (points again if they have separate lives that do not interfere with each other, spend literally every waking moment together, or live the world’s best and ideal romantic and sexual relationship would seem but aren’t romantically involved).

Thirdly, “I have a car.” “Cool, I’ve been wanting to leave this place since the moment I breathed the air here want to hop in and ditch?” “Yeah that works.” (It’s leaving home for bigger and better things, that’s it).