Nobody Will Ever Match The Raw, Unfiltered Power Of A Transfem With Autism And Internet Access.

Nobody will ever match the raw, unfiltered power of a transfem with autism and internet access.

Like, you think AI could replicate that level of intensity? That chaos? That ability to hyperfixate on folklore creatures, learn a dead language for fun, and still cry because a girl in a video game was nice to her?

There’s a whole genre of posts on here that’s just us—neurodivergent trans girls—softly screaming into the void together. Swapping strategies for surviving sensory overload, mourning friendships that fizzled out under unspoken rules we never learned, and comforting each other in comments like,

“I literally can’t go into stores without dissociating.”

And then, inevitably, someone shows up in the replies like,

“I’m not autistic or anything, but this reminds me of how I used to cry when someone rearranged my dungeons and dragons dice.”

Like… sweetheart. You are one special interest away from joining the coven. Just kiss a cute girl who also gets overwhelmed in fluorescent lighting and admit you’ve been one of us all along. 🌈

We’ll welcome you with open arms and noise-cancelling headphones. There’s tea, there's sapphic yearning, and yes—there’s a group chat entirely dedicated to analyzing the autistic-coded vibes of cryptids and background characters. You’d fit right in. 💕