Pure Smut.
Welcome to Smutterings Of A Raven.
We have had this idea that recovery and “healing roads” take us from A to B to C. From 1 to 2 to 3. Even from 10 to 1. Beginning to end. Start to finish. Start to stop. Rock-Bottom to Look-At-Me-Now. Sewer to mountain top. From the ugly duckling into a pristine swan.
Smutterings are unpolished and non-linear. Some of us were born as ravens, not swans. I am recording history. I do not speak for the entire transgender and gender diverse community. I am one voice—in a sea of millions.
I started this blog because truths will be frank with us. They don’t go away. They watch. Listen. Observe. Until you acknowledge them. I’ve been here before so when the energy speaks, “I’m here and you need to put this somewhere”, I’ve learned to listen. Otherwise, chaos ensues.
Smut? So much more fun.
This blog might be for you if you have ever thought about making or having already started to make a intentional and deliberate walk, following some kind of root, treating your experiences and your wounds like rich bodies of water. At these water’s edges, you reflect, watch and wade through as the depths of your life surface. You move having another grain of sand tucked into your sacred pockets.
Throughout these pages, here is my committment to you: Know that every time I hit “Publish” it means I’ve signed another contract with myself to stay soft, magical, authentically weird, radically honest and slightly fragmented.
Words smutter before breakthroughs.
Some of us walk willingly into the dark, mostly because we can feel something in it we need to get to know better.
Some of us like it when someone else goes into the dark first, and even if we can’t see their hand, but we can hear their voice, “HEY! I GOT YOU!”
Some of us have simply stopped discovering ourselves altogether. But, we can’t. We have to keep digging, moving, uncovering to discover. The raven is an archetype: a shadow-walker, a seeker of hidden discernment, a creature that isn't afraid of the dark, a messenger that bridges different, and unknown, worlds.
Lastly, during a time where transgender/gender diverse lives are being erased by government, I cannot think of something better I’d like to do than write it all down. And, honestly (always), I want my children to know.
I made them a promise before they were born: who I was when they met me would not be who I would stay. Maya Angelou tells us when we know better, we do better. My gender transition was me fulfilling a part of that promise. Midlife came around and Carl Jung echoed: The greatest burden a child must bear is the unlived life of the parents.
This blog aims to nourish your mind, soften the walls of your heart, and warm up your hands so you may feel the depth and musculature of a life through infinite recovery.
Yours,
The Smutty Raven
P.S. If you’d like to receive the caw when a new blog is posted, sign up for the newsletter below.
