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Okay. First thing, i think in bullet points so i’m not going to write this with a goal of flow.

I…well, i haven’t really come out to the world yet. Because it’s hard and i feel guilty about taking up space and because it’s hard. A few wonderful people in my life know me as i am, but not the majority because the way i look and am comfortable doesn’t align with most people’s views of how i should be defined.

I identify as a femme boy, and as my magical dream cloud of a partner informed me, in the peacock world I technically pass as male based on how i dress. Pronouns matter less than other things to me at this point in time, such as being called sir rather than lady.

I am pansexual and in a monogamous partnership to the most wonderful human i know.

The way i experience my body is kind of odd and confusing at times, because I’m attracted to the exact parts of my body that make me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. Seeing my body in clothing/photos that accentuates my femme aspects -i.e. the curves of my breasts, the shape of my ass and legs- turns me on when i think about it being someone else’s body. My boobs are attractive to me abstractly, i love the shape of them. But, on me, attached to my body, they feel like a beautifully designed costume i’m unable to remove ever which not only makes it harder to appreciate but is really conflicting, painful and difficult to navigate.

I’ve had glimpses that i might not be a girl since i was little and my first sexy fantasies were of me kissing girls in a male body. Legally changing my name to Finn in my teens from the overly femme name i was given felt like finally having an identity. I also dealt with abuse, bullying and shame during my preteens and teens that made me feel the need to start shaving, plucking and altering the natural parts of me that were deemed ugly and the pressure to accentuate the parts of me i didn’t feel as comfortable with for the sake of male gaze. Being free to be myself is an ongoing journey, but being loved for exactly who i am has helped immensely. I feel confident and happy in bright as fuck colors, the more patterns the better, funky colorful makeup and imagining myself as 6ft tall intimidating masculine presence. I feel sexy naked or occasionally in ultra femme clothes, which tends to feels more like drag than anything. I’m happiest not focusing on sexy, but focusing on feeling like me. Like, the essence of my flamboyant style.

I love this shoot so much because it’s one of the first shoots where i’ve truly felt like it accentuates the specific parts of me i like: My face, from the side, when i’m focused on something i care about. My squish covered abs, that are strong as fuck. My muscular, can-crush-you-to-death thighs. The lingering remnants of my scoliosis which i still find kinda cute. My hyper-mobile limbs. My scar from running naked under the full moon chasing someone i love. My tattoos from my sister that keep me feeling safe. My natural blue hair. And my favorite part, more so than any part of my meaningless physical form: the art i make. The paint i smear in the places i need to that make stuff i like looking at. In the indoor shots, I vaguely art-directed my studio space because i wanted to capture me in my creative state. My cartoons are on one wall, my mixed media everywhere else. Paint and color console me. Pens keep me peaceful. And, this is what i try to do to keep myself healthy and away from destruction. I’ve struggled with self harm for 6 years. I’m now starting my clock over, it’s been roughly one month since i’ve cut/scratched myself. The new year brings new reckonings and awareness of my issues, with addiction, with self destructive behavior patterns and with the ugliest thing to deal with: shame, fear, and all it brings.

I love this shoot for making me look like queer pretty boy art, at least to me. Also, there’s one photo where i straight up remind myself of my dad sitting on the toilet and i love it more than i can say.

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