in order to remove the sexual stigma placed on breasts, we must move past the act of shaming people who are brave enough to go topless in public. myself and another transfem friend went topless at our local pride parade not because we were trying to be “sexual” at pride, but to protest the idea that some chests are viewed as inherently sexual and illegal to be viewed publicly, while some are not. it’s not a sexual act for someone with breasts to take their shirt off.
i did not have anyone give me rude or sexual comments. i received a lot of approving nods, thumbs up and polite compliments, people were even reminding me that that’s the spirit of pride, and hoped that they were brave enough to do the same in the future.
sometimes it’s nearly 100 degrees and people with breasts get dangerously overheated. sometimes people with breasts just don’t want to wear a shirt. their breasts are not an object for you to get upset about. their breasts are not an object for you to make a moral argument about. their breasts are a part of their body, and they’re not scarring or hurting anyone by existing, they are another organ on the human body and someone else’s breasts are not up for you to debate about.
i want people to appreciate pigeons. not “ehehe skrunkly little trash gremlins. so adaptable and resilient”. nothing wrong with that sentiment towards racccons and opossums, but when people do this about pigeons, it shows a fundamental misunderstanding about a pigeon’s place in the world.
pigeons were beloved. they were pets, they were tools, they were food. we found use and pleasure in everything about them. then they became obsolete. then they stopped being popular. an animal that we have literally thousands of years of deep history with, completely discarded by mankind to the point most people are ignorant of their existence outside of “rats with wings”.
Sure, other platforms may call them “followers” too, but only Tumblr can capture the feel of a faceless crowd of huddled masses trailing after you about a city block’s distance away, picking up pages of your diary or scrawlings that you drop on the ground as you walk along. Some of these people have been there for years. Some only joined the crowd last week. Collectively, the crowd is ancient and ageless. Who are they? What do they want from you? Nobody knows. Walk a little faster.
I love you bottom growth I love you patchy beard I love you ass hair I love you cracking voice I love you bulk muscles I love you dad bod I love you thicker darker body hair I love you looking like my dad I love you changing body scent I love you testosterone changes I love you I love you I love you
