The thing about reclaiming slurs is that once you've been affectionally called 'faggot' by friends, loved ones, and amiable fellows on the internet for long enough, you almost forget that it means something else to people who hate you.
Honestly at this point if a stranger on the street yelled "hey faggot!" after me, I'd probably turn around like "what?" like they'd just casually called me by name, and they were only trying to get my attention because they wanted to tell me something, before processing that they're being hostile.
running into a trans girl while you're out and about makes the entire miserable errand worth it, whatever it was. like glancing upward at just the right time to see a shooting star. I spot a trans flag and it sincerely ceases to matter that the bus is crowded and it rained unexpectedly and my shoes are soaked through and my headphones are dead. I am happy to be on that specific bus on that specific day, because you're there too.
"Sucking at something is the first step towards being sorta good at something." -Jake the Dog
Sorry if this is odd, but I just found an old EP of yours on Spotify and it's inspiring hearing how much you've improved. It makes me understand that you got where you are through hard work, not just being magically good at what you do. You're a big musical inspiration to me, and I hope you have a good night!
oh fully yeah, sucking is an important and vital part of the journey toward not sucking
"Ok, ma'am that'll be $226.03."
I take my wallet out of my pocket and unfold it. It is empty other than a single moth that lazily flies out. The moth lands on the tap point of the card reader. There's a beat, and my payment is processed. The moth flies back into my wallet and I put it back in my pocket.
I wrote this originally as a comment under a YouTube video about Celeste, but then it turned into a short essay so I think I'll just post it here instead. The video was very good, but missed the trans allegory inherent to Celeste's story. A lot of what I talk about isn't really news here, but might be helpful to those unfamiliar with trans identity and the struggles that accompany it.
Celeste is a game written, produced, and even scored by trans women. There's conclusive evidence (including commentary by the creator, Maddy Thorson) that the character Madeline herself is a trans woman. And overall, the experiences metaphorized in Celeste are extremely relatable particularly to trans people. While there are a lot of valid readings of Celeste's themes, I think the most cohesive and defensible reading is as trans allegory. This can be recognized by examining each story beat in turn and how it contributes to the overall narrative, which is at its heart a story about making peace with one's self.
Transitioning is hard. It is a years-long process of self-acceptance, self-improvement, and self-assertion. At the end of it, trans people are faced with a brutally hard world that is in most places completely opposing us at every step. Even in the most progressive and accepting places, trans people are usually the last people to receive any of the benefits of that progress. This is the reason trans people suffer extraordinarily high rates of homelessness, addiction, unemployment, poor mental health, and suicide, and even those horrifically dark facts are often used as jokes at our expense. The act of transitioning feels a lot like climbing a mountain, and I think there's a good case to be made that that's where the premise of this game comes from in the first place. The monument at the base of Mt. Celeste is a solemn reminder of this fact. Not all who walk this path survive.
The relationship between an egg and their transness tends to be very adversarial. Trans women are extremely over-represented in the military (transfemme Americans are 3 times more likely to have served in the military than the average American) for this reason; we seek a way to prove to ourselves that we are in fact men and not trans women, so we find the most masculine persona we can possibly adopt and cling to it like a life preserver. It never works. Transness, like Madeline's dark reflection, is not something you can make go away. When you try to, it makes you bitter, often drawing out cruelty and toxicity. Trans people pre-transition have this part of themselves that they hate, that they need desperately to go away, and it hurts them and usually the people around them for as long as they refuse to accept it as a part of them and not a defect.
One can often recognize a pre-transition trans person by distinctively poor hygiene and appearance. Eggs tend to wear baggy clothing, take very poor care of their bodies, and live unfulfilled, miserable lives because they are dissociating from their bodies to avoid their dysphoria. (As a side note, this is why some trans people suspect that Kurt Cobain may have been a trans woman.) Oshiro's hotel is in disrepair, full of clutter, and part of the journey toward fulfillment (for him and for Madeline) requires cleaning it up a bit. Self-care--cleaning out the rubble and the clutter of that past life--is a necessary step before a trans person can go on the journey of self-actualization that must follow. Additionally, the presence of Oshiro as a ghost is very appropriate to this chapter. There's a reason most trans people refer to the name given them at birth as a "deadname." The identity they had before transition kind of dies, replaced by the true self.
Theo's whole experience in the mirror world revolves around feelings of exposure and vulnerability. The eyes always watching him have paralyzed him. He is too self-conscious to even move when we find him. This, too, is a common experience among trans people. Existing as a trans person, particularly in cultures that aren't friendly towards us, often leads to fear, anxiety, and paranoia surrounding how people perceive us. For one thing, there is a very real safety concern. Trans people are statistically very likely to have suffered violence, SA, or just garden-variety discrimination and harassment. I personally have experiences in this, and besides the trauma I also get tons of dirty (and sometimes threatening) looks when I just exist where people can see me. This is a pretty unavoidable part of transitioning. You're going to stick out, and there are going to be people who very vocally hate you. It can be paralyzing, and trans people sometimes become shut-ins, refusing to leave their homes or go in public out of fear of that backlash. A trans person must make peace with this and learn to live in spite of it before they can reach the summit.
The "Starjump" scene (in the dream after the mirror temple) is something nearly every trans person has probably experienced. The false catharsis of identifying that which we wish to destroy, to divest from ourselves, only to learn the hard way that we can't just wish for it to go away. The fall from this point goes very far down. This is another moment not all survive.
The chase scene/bossfight in Chapter 6 (Reflection) is such an emotionally powerful sequence partly because it stands contrary to the rejection of Self that came before. The false catharsis of the Starjump is met with the real, powerful catharsis of chasing after that injured, scared, angry part of us, reaching it despite all its efforts to run away, and giving it a hug and telling it "it's okay. I see you, I acknowledge you, I accept you, I love you." This is the coming-out moment, the apotheosis, escaping the Matrix and entering into the Real World. (The Matrix, by the way, is another piece of media written by trans women that strongly echoes the experience of transitioning.)
The difficulty of existing doesn't magically go away when a trans person has made peace with their transness, but life does become a lot better when we do. We see this in the game in the form of Madeline "leveling up," becoming stronger and more capable, finally able to reach the summit. The music here ("Reach for the Summit") is triumphant, elated, filled with implacable determination. Her positive relationship with her inner self literally empowers her. This happens in real life too. When a trans person accepts who they are and begins the work of transitioning, they often undergo what we refer to as "second puberty." This is partly literal, for those of us who take HRT or undergo surgery, but it's also a very appropriate metaphor for what happens to our psyches. Trans people who survive past the hardship of the egg phase often have very dramatic transformations into a self that is more fulfilled, more authentic, and fundamentally happier than when we were in conflict with our selves.
Anyway, I think all of that is why Celeste rings so true for us. Thanks for reading.
me. me when a poem says something ive felt before
Blessed Ostara and Happy Spring Equinox everyone! 🐇
and Happy Mabon to the Southern Witches! 💕
sorry what
mr sandman was playing in this gas station and the cashier and i both sang “man me a sand” at the same fucking time without hesitation
23, witchy and pan, switchy and trans, sapphic with an achillean man 🏳️⚧️
206 posts