Fuck Yeah, Trans* Femmes!

Dec 5

I love my new wig. (I’m androgynous and I take whatever pronouns, but especially singular ‘they’.)

[Image: a femme with pale skin and brown eyes wearing a thick, dark wig. They’re wearing a white blouse and appear to be sitting down with their back against a stone wall.]

Oct 17

I’m Noah, I’m 19, a freshmen in collefe, and a femme FTM, and I would LOVE to be another mod to your lovely group. I go by male pronouns only, but I am completely comfortable in my female body. Anyways, hope to hear from you soon :)

Sep 14

[Image: A nonbinary, sitting down in front of the camera and looking to their right. They have short, wavy golden hair, pale skin, and thick black rimmed glasses.]

I’m Avery, and I’m non-binary, though not at the moment very loudly. I love lace and frilly things of all sorts, and holding onto this part of my identity as I explore others has become very important to me. I’m trying not to police myself too hard. Come visit my tumblr (click-through link) if you want to talk—it’s full of images of desire and very little personal stuff, but my ask is always open.

Sep 2

Me (a fem trans man) and my girlfriend (a femme trans woman) lying on the grass in the park

[Submitted alt text reads: “Me (a fem trans man) and my girlfriend (a femme trans woman) lying on the grass in the park.”]

Aug 15

[Image description: A grainy black-and-white facial closeup webcam photograph of a femme and genderfuck FTM demiguy with medium-length wavy dark hair falling over his eyes. He is wearing thick black-framed glasses and smiling shyly. End description.]

I’m Hezekiah, I’m 22, and I can’t wait until I’ve been on testosterone for a while so that I can feel comfortable enough to more fully express my femme identity by wearing pleated skirts, cute shoes and fishnet tights.

Aug 11

“MINE!” I shout when he tries to take my gender away.

I am a child clutching their favorite toy, standing up to a schoolyard bully.

He is bigger than me, older than me, but gender

or battered teddy bear I will not let go.

Because these things,

the words that give peace or the lipstick red ball I clutch to my chest

they are mine

I get the abuse because I am too old for a teddy bear

and too feminine to ever want to be called he.

I am wrong for the things I need,

and for being wrong or for needing them I am punished.

I take the beating, I would hit back but my too small hands are too busy holding on to my bear.

Sometimes my brothers and sisters try to hide my teddy bear

They want to run off with my stilettos, want to cut my hair while I sleep.

They mean well.

They do this to keep me safe.

They ache for me when I come home bruised.

They ache blue and black and purple for me.

Because our blood runs in the same direction

Because maybe they too want to bounce their red ball, twirl in their red dress.

Maybe they want the teddybear hidden under their bed

The one with the soft fur, who loved them when they painted their face, and bound their breasts. Who loved them when they shaved their hair and were still she. Who loved them no matter what parts, what words, what clothes.

Maybe they had a milk white stuffed rabbit who’s glass eyes were the closest thing to loving they got in the dusty place where they grew up.

Maybe he has a short black skirt in the back of his denim filled closet, made of a fabric that flutters when he moves, and maybe when he wears it he feels more like a man than when he pulls the baggy grey sweatshirt over his uncomfortable curves.

Maybe she remembers playing basketball with the neighborhood kids and hates that only girls who were never called “Caleb” are allowed to play sports.

Or maybe they don’t, but maybe they ache for me. I who am sometimes he, and sometimes she, and sometimes something else entirely.

Because there is no way to alter my uncomfortable body so that I will always be content.

My gender belongs to me like a malibu barbie.

You might have one too, you might even have the same doll

Blue swimsuit, blonde hair, blue eyes and a peaceful smile that says to me “You’re alright”

But my barbie is my barbie, and your barbie is yours.

and when I put her in a pink silk dress that is none of your concern.

Aug 1

[Image description: A nonbinary person has a three-quarters view of the camera, leaning on their left hand and smiling with their lips closed. They have brown eyes accented by smeary light blue eyeshadow and dark blue eyeliner and shoulder-length brown hair that is tied in a ponytail with a light blue ribbon. An earring made from an “O” tile from Scrabble hangs from their right ear, and they are wearing a black bowler hat and a light green T-shirt.]

Hey, I’m Cat/fierystage. Trans-glam-dandy-femme would be a good way to describe me. Thank you so much for creating this Tumblog, folks, and it’s such an inspiration to see so many other femme nonbinaries/other trans folks! I hate the notion of having to conform to some artificial masculine standard in order to prove I’m not cis.

Jul 27

(photo of a pale skinned femme presenting person, they’re wearing a white fluffy marie antionette-esque wig and red lipstick. They’re wearing a black dress and their breasts are pushed together as they look as if they’re about to kiss the camera)

Jul 20

[image: pale-skin non-binary with blondish-brown hair. It is wearing a black hat with rectangular, black-rimmed glasses, and is smiling.]

Preferred pronoun is ‘it’.

Fuck Yeah, Trans* Femmes!

A tumblog dedicated to femme expression and/or identity amongst trans* people of all genders.