Thrown for a Loop

  • Reading time:3 mins read

So I just learned that spinner rings are a thing that exists.

.

…

Uh-oh.

Look, I already commented on the stim value of bracelets. I figured that out like ten weeks ago. I had been wondering about rings, since really my only experience is with… one I will not be wearing again. Like, what their deal was; what was out there that fit my whole deal.

And, uh.

Yeah, okay. That seems… unexpectedly practical. Considering, you know. This autistic brain.

Well, it will be a while before I invest in anything else for myself, but after that experience a couple months back, jewelry is among the next things on my radar—to the extent that it makes sense for me personally. And, I guess this business will have to be one of the big things to explore when we get there. That, and—

I, like.

So.

Okay, I—I still feel pretty weird and anxious about this, but for a few months I’ve been throwing around the idea of getting my ears pierced. It’s not gonna be, like, tomorrow. There are a million other things I wanna do way before. But as a notion, it has become distinctly not-unthinkable.

Just putting words to it, even if not for the first time, is actively making me shake here. It’s so weird that I’m even arriving at this, considering how I did not understand, and was vaguely against, the whole idea until… about the time my boobs started to come in. Like, I never understood tattoos or piercings at all. But, I get taking ownership of one’s body now. And, this aspect… keeps entering my mind. I’m just still grappling with the whole concept. It somehow feels like a bigger leap than HRT for me personally. The hormones were a medical necessity. It was an important move, but an obviously healthy one. This kind of body modification is a new realm.

It’s so fucked-up that this seems to be a common trans experience, our not feeling like our bodies belong to us. For four decades I just… didn’t feel like I had a right to do anything but try to keep it intact—not for my own benefit, but for a nebulous someone else’s. It’s like my body was a rental.

Bodily autonomy has been making my brain fucking melt the last several months. I never knew what it was like; what I was missing; that this is a thing that other people feel all the time. It’s so confusing, and makes me feel so giddy, and so sad, and so angry all at the same time.

But, jewelry, right. I kind of feel like that—the notion of some eventual piercing situation—is some kind of a threshold that this all is building up toward. It’s like. once I’m better acquainted with the world of jewelry and the idea of wearing this stuff and how to decorate my body in a way that I enjoy… well. That is a potential major waypoint to the journey. If it’s going somewhere, that’s probably where it’s headed.

Again, though, I feel like that’s not gonna be on my radar until after I see about zapping my face bald. That and some other more essential medical and practical business are sort of the focus for this year. After that it’s just… crazy town, I guess. Just do whatever with myself. Be a person.

On the way there—spinner rings. bracelets. necklaces? Lots to explore.