That feel when you’re Autistic with a panic disorder and often a ball of anxiety AND a gender nonconforming woman (note: also one who consciously uses “woman” out of a feeling of solidarity rather than any particular feeling of “I am a woman”; gender to me is like “…?!?!? Eh…I’m a…me?”) and you just want to give the finger to most of the collective population of your state like

Thinking about the small-but-growing upcoming comic/fandom/geeky stuff convention (that I am actually going to attend this time mainly to D&D with the group I’ve found) got me thinking about this other thing pertaining to some of my nerdy special interests that I went to a few times.

I decided I wasn’t going to go again when one of the organizers (albeit in character…-ish) commented on how I (a being regarded by society as female who identifies as a gnc woman) would have been arrested or punished or what have you ~back in the times~ for wearing ~men’s apparel~.

I didn’t say anything because I was still working on learning to speak up, but mentally I was like, “Dude. There are people here dressed as Vikings, people dressed as pirates, some dressed as Elizabeth I, and someone dressed as a freaking WOOD ELF, and you give ME shit about historicalness. Grand.”

I’ve always wanted to be the knight in shining armor or the dapper hero saving the day. So fuck you for messing with my pretendy fun times.

Especially when before I put on some more pounds, my outfit did what a number of Shakespeare’s heroines went for and got me pegged as a young dude by several people who didn’t know me. So fie upon thee.