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I never fit in much as a boy.

But even now as a woman, I still don't fit in. Dad and his new wife, Alice, are nice enough. Their kids Anders and Robin are friendly with me, but I still feel like an outsider here. They all have their hobbies. Alice is a fencer, as in like, with the swords. Anders, Robin, and dad all have the center. I suppose I have the center too.

It's not the same, though. Everyone else talks about how they spend so much time with the animals and all the rescue work they do. Meanwhile, here I am, buried behind an ever-mounting pile of paperwork left behind by dad. All the while he is off wrangling new, exotic animals to bring into the Center. He leaves me to deal with the Supervisors.

I get it though.

Even though Mr. Tarpan and Dr. Everwood are pretty nice most of the time, the higher ups aren't. They don't care about us and it's pretty obvious. We're just another cog in their machine. And that makes me nothing more than a smaller cog in the larger machine that is the Center and the Supervisor's relationship. Sometimes I wonder why Jude, Esther, bones, and JJ are friends with me, knowing what I am.

A faggot tranny sellout.

What an example to the rest of the kids I am. Teenage me is surely disappointed in adult me. But at least that little boy isn't slitting his wrists anymore. I guess that's a win?

It isn't all bad, though. Had I not come to Boring, I would have never met Alex. He's such a dope, it's the sweetest thing ever. Even though I barely have the energy to do anything after the average day of sitting at my desk and working through financial reports, Critter Profiles, and Supervisor meetings, he understands and lets me decompress with him.

I've been clean for 15 years.

I looked at the razor I was using to shave my legs this morning. It was pink. I paid an extra 4% more than I would have for a man's razor. But I wanted to affirm my gender, I guess. It's not like people around here don't, I guess I was just feeling like a fraud lately. In my dysphoria's reflection, I still saw my father's son. In the moment I looked at it, I felt the urge to plunge the blade across my wrists. Just to feel myself bleed. At least this way, I'd die like a woman.

Am I even really alive? Can this be called living? Who fucking knows.

Anyway, that's all for today.

Thanks for listening.

-Fae