I know there’ll come a time beyond the firsts when I no longer count things. But I’m not yet.

This year saw my existence become illegal in the eyes of a tangerine tyrant 217 days ago.
I was counting those days until something inside realized the act was dragging me down.

111 days ago, I finally had my top surgery after going through the mandatory waiting and after having procured my letters over a year before. It was THREE years from the time I requested it, until I got it.

57 days ago, I started testosterone after having been scared off from starting it years before. My doctor HAD previously tried the low-dose version, but I had no useful or desired results.

37 days ago, I began counting days I intentionally reached to find joy in the face of my fears and anxiety amplified by the current administration.

I realized their goal is to make us afraid. I don’t do well with demands like that. The PDA autism kicks in hard. So, I do what I do, I rebelled.

And then something amazing happened.

25 days ago, I began dating someone for the first time in years.

These have been the happiest 25 days in spite of the world and all of the scary people who are doing their best to see we never experience life, let alone joy.

I discovered I CAN reach for joy and find it.

And when I DO, I have more energy and more power to fight the oppression I am feeling.

When we embrace our joy, we can fight our fears, and those who would see us be denied the very emotion of happiness.

When we empower ourselves with love, we can more effectively fight hate.