“I always get to where I’m going by walking away from where I have been.”

AA Milne



If you know me on social media you know that I finally unceremoniously changed my pronouns from they to he, and made a stealthy 3am post of a version of these first few paragraphs on November 14th. I have been coasting on people gradually noting the pronoun change since only a small percentage of folks saw the initial posts, by design, and avoiding making a huge proclamation.

A few days after that a mutual twitter friend and occasional real life larping compatriot TheAzrai released his coming out video to youtube. That same day Noelle Stephenson shared her story about Top Surgery. And as most of the world knows at this point, Elliot Page came out this week. With such role models out there, I am ready to stop the half measures and sneaky posts. It’s screaming to the void time.

TLDR: It is no longer really accurate to say that I am agender. And I have been enjoying using masculine pronouns and honorifics for myself.



The timeline of my transition has been messy, and slow, and confusing to many in my personal life. I changed my pronouns to they/them in 2018, one of the “rare 30something non binary folks” (because come on, we didn’t have the terms when I was in my 20s), revealed my new name in 2019, and started fundraising for Top Surgery this summer. I was never quiet about my gender exploration, but I was never clear about what was going on in my head, or where I was going to end up. I repeated the phrase “It’s fine, I am just not done cooking” so much it became almost a shield to avoid actually doing the “cooking.”

I clung to the idea that I was Agender, empty, nothing, being nothing isn’t scary. I committed to nothing. *

A lot of my fear meant that it felt safer, more comfortable, to spend the past few years in something akin to a middle ground. After years of extremely performative femininity, it seemed like jumping into another binary was probably a mistake, an overcompensation?

And of course, things in the American political landscape were growing scarier by the day. To the point that just over a month ago I was preparing to go stealth, go back to my old name, I was going to pretend it never happened, just keep it all inside. A nagging feeling had been preventing me from changing my legal name and gender markers, I did not feel like it was the safe and prudent thing to do. I told my partner that the idea of pretending I was a girl made me feel dead inside, but that the fear and anxiety were beginning to overwhelm me.

But… things changed.

And while they are obviously still up in the air, and ultimately only a small change and the fight rages on, my brain has allowed me to feel a small twinge of hope that maybe it’s safe to come out into the sun, instead of lurking in the shadows of what I want, being too scared to fully commit.

I abandoned my stealthing plans, and slowly I gathered the strength to fight for what I want, what I need. Allowing my brain to start to explore the question I refused to let myself voice: “Am I really Agender, is this where I want to be? Or is this just the safest thing I can be that gets me closer to the truth?

Was I settling by staying somewhere away from Gender? Somewhere imperceivable and hopefully invisible (please don’t anyone notice how *wrong* I am!) was I clinging to that spot out of fear that I couldn’t take it all back and hide if I transitioned *too far*.

And then there is the little voice… you will never pass…

I think have the tools to fight that little voice. And the time has come to admit that I do want to explore if being a man is the right fit. Because while one little voice is telling me I am going to fail, be laughed at, and make an ugly guy… There is another voice in there telling me, who cares, you will be YOU.

And so… I am.

Me.

And a He.




I am going to leave you all with a brief story of a moment of Euphoria I experienced last winter. So many of our stories are about moments of pain spurring us on, and I wanted to end with a moment of joy.

I was sitting down to dinner at a Victorian Era Live Action Roleplaying event, I was wearing a three piece suit and a top hat, playing my first male live action character. This was the very first night of the event, and not only was I terrified I would get laughed at for not even remotely passing as male, I only had a few people there that I had met before, in a sea of strangers.

I was wandering around the ballroom looking for a place to eat, as the few people I knew were absent or at tables that were already full. I spotted a table with an empty chair and made my way over. I rather demurely asked permission to sit. In that moment, I had already forgotten I was a male character and was resting on expected femme deference. The three men looked up and welcomed me to the table.

I sat down with a hunched back and crossed legs, pushing my chair in as much as possible, don’t take up space, Wren. I have always hunched, the better to diminish ones chest size, and my binder was already doing the best it could do that night.

I was greeted by the men in a jovial manner, asking me how I came to be in New Orleans, and punctuated with “Good Chap.”

Something snapped. Why was I making myself small? (Why does being born female mean you have to tiptoe through life to not trouble the men in any event?) I uncrossed my legs, pushed my chair out, sat up straight. Let myself take up space. DareISay, I manspread. We had a good laugh about the topics of the day and shared some drinks, four men having a pleasant night. And in that moment… I knew, I was as I said earlier, Not Done Cooking.

My character at the Larp, Blake.



* I want to express my deep love and respect for my Agender friends. It might still be true for me, I don’t know. And I sincerely hope this doesn’t read as abandoning you, or demeaning what it means to be Agender. I understand the struggles are different and both extremely painful. I love you all with all my… maybe a boy, maybe still a genderless blob, heart.

An interlude…


In a fit of insomnia I have redesigned this website and archived all past blog posts that were larping instructionals. I will move those to a different place on the internet eventually. I kept the posts that were meaningful to me in my personal life.

I have a blog post years in the making, and weeks in the writing dropping in the morning, and I wanted it to have a better home than this abandoned webpage.

If you were a bird…

My gender and lack thereof has been something I have tried to be very open about on my social media, as scary as it was. I know that other people being open about their struggles was what gave me the courage to be more truthful about myself. I don’t know if I will ever be “done” sorting myself out, but I felt more ready to take a permanent step.

“If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You’d lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You’d say to the wind when it took you away:
“That’s where I wanted to go today!”
A.A. Milne


I have done a bit of a redesign on the page, and I have done a bit of a redesign on myself since I was last very active on here.

One thing you might notice is that I have changed my name!

My gender and lack thereof has been something I have tried to be very open about on my social media, as scary as it was. I know that other people being open about their struggles was what gave me the courage to be more truthful about myself. I don’t know if I will ever be “done” sorting myself out, but I felt more ready to take a permanent step.

My birthname never fit right, this was something I understood before I had a name for what I was feeling. I had always shortened it to a one syllable version which was tolerable at best. This was fine. I had tried on other names, at larps mostly, to imagine what it was like to have a name that felt more… me.

I used Ben for a bit, I really loved it. I felt like it made me more, I don’t know, real. I felt like I could kinda lean into it, be a little cocky, a little more arrogant than I allowed myself. But ultimately, I know too many really wonderful Bens, and it stopped feeling right.

It hit me at a certain point a couple years ago that Wren was A LOT like Ben, was non gender specific, and also was a bird, a very cute bird I liked very much. The king of all birds, even. (Insert winky face here for my pal Stephen.) I of course, being the king of my own anxiety kept shoving Wren away because I was afraid of people thinking I was being frivolous or overly fanciful.

I repeatedly came back to Wren when I danced around the idea of changing my name, and recently after meeting another enby on Twitter named Ren, I decided to just do it. I loved the name, my shortened birthname made me cringe, and so what if people think I am frivolous? I post parrot pictures online, of COURSE I am frivolous.

In fanciful conclusion, my name is Wren! And I feel fantastic about it!

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Superb Fairywren (Malurus cyaneus) @ Nangawooka (from Flickr CC use)

“You can’t stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you…”

Tonight is the finale of “Little Busters” the Tales from the Loop game I have been playing online.

I definitely knew I was going to get a little emotional at the end, and I was right. But I need to do a little backtracking first…

“…You have to go to them sometimes.”

-A.A. Milne    


Tonight is the finale of “Little Busters” the Tales from the Loop game I have been playing online.

I definitely knew I was going to get a little emotional at the end, and I was right. But I need to do a little backtracking first… Continue reading ““You can’t stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you…””