I was never going to perform my femininity for you, but I feel profoundly sad that right now I can't even perform it for myself.

(And two things can be true. Feeling this way doesn't preclude caring about victims of political violence or fascism or exploited labor. Imagine people #complexly.)

If there's a point, it's that I need grace when it comes to managing fatigue, overwhelm, hygiene, presentation, and presence. Especially in queer, neurodiverse, and women's spaces, which are supposed to be refuge from white capitalism-driven ableist ciseteronormative patriarchy.

The only upside I can think of is that wonky and complicated in-between states sometimes make it easier for us to find our tribe. Like, who are you at the grocery store with the best liner I've ever seen and mismatched pajamas? A glee extra? Join my Sunderfolk campaign