Anticipation and Anxiety

Looking back at this past June, it was a mix of many feelings. My first Pride Month that I would be experiencing, and not only looking at from the outside. The excitement was genuine as I anticipated finally stepping into spaces made by and for people like me, celebrating openly and unabashedly. But along with that excitement came plenty of anxiety. Would I fit in? Would I even know how to move around in these places? Would I ever be one of them, or would I always be an outsider looking in?

These are the things that crossed my mind while scrolling on my social media platforms. I used Facebook and Instagram to find events, their event pages and group recommendations directing me to local gatherings. I spent hours browsing descriptions of different events, reading about them, looking at past year pictures, and assessing which of them would be most welcoming to a Pride first-timer.

Big Gay Pride: An Artisan Market Adventure

The first weekend in June, I got up the courage and attended "Big Gay Pride," a downtown all-queer artisan market. Despite some family drama that attempted to rain on my parade (not worth elaborating on here), I was determined to have a positive experience.

Entering the outdoor venue was like entering another world. It was a space alive with color, creativity, and an unspoken understanding that we were all there for a common cause. The market was set up in rows of booths under the open sky, each one highlighting the art and creations of LGBTQ+ artists and creators. I wandered from booth to booth, taking my time to marvel at the amazing variety of expression present.

I was drawn to a jeweler that created jewelry out of found objects and bones. After talking to the artist about their work and Dungeons and Dragons, I purchased a small stack of earrings of varying size and material. My favorite piece featured spinal bones as an accent, creating a beautiful marriage of the macabre and the delicate.

Throughout the market, there were local LGBTQ+ resource groups with information booths. I collected pamphlets on community centers, support groups, and upcoming events. These materials formed a resource library for myself that I already know will be invaluable in the months to come. Those who were working these booths were welcoming and open, answering my somewhat shy questions with patience and enthusiasm.

Most striking to me was the atmosphere of genuine affirmation throughout the outdoor market. Compliments flowed easily about outfits, accessories, makeup, and more. These were not the somewhat-awkward compliments exchanged in mainstream spaces; they appeared genuine and specific, celebrating expressions of identity instead of conformity to norms. More than once, I found myself blushing at unexpected praise for elements of my presentation I'd been uncertain about. Each compliment felt like permission to be more fully myself.

Irvington Pride: Cryptids, Crafts, and Community

For my second Pride event, I attended Irvington Pride, feeling more comfortable with the experience this time around. I decided to wear my favorite cryptid dress, a black dress with prints of Bigfoot, Mothman, Nessie, and other legendary creatures that I've always loved. It felt good to express pride in myself and participate in the Pride celebration at the same time.

The indoor market was filled with queer vendors and their creative works. Like a magpie drawn to shining things, I found myself lingering at jewelry displays and ended up buying several pairs of earrings. My favorite find was a pair featuring a muskrat jaw bone, which made me smile because it reminded me of one of my go-to karaoke songs.

Next, I visited the second-hand shops along the street. I've always enjoyed finding unique items with history, and was pleased to discover a purse designed to look like a leather-bound book. It immediately felt like the perfect accessory for me, and I decided to buy it.

Trap Door Tattoos' flash tattoo sale was actually one of my main reasons for attending the event. I had looked through their promotional Instagram post beforehand and decided on a design of Jerry Mouse from Tom and Jerry. Getting the tattoo on my calf was exciting, and I was happy to have a permanent reminder of this meaningful day.

As the day continued, the summer heat became increasingly uncomfortable. After putting my purchases in my car, I tried to make it to the outdoor market, but found it difficult in the high temperature. Fortunately, a local church participating in the Pride celebration was offering free water and a place to rest. Their kindness showed the supportive community spirit that makes these events special.

Eventually, I decided to head home because of the heat. While I didn't get to experience everything Irvington Pride had to offer, I still enjoyed what I did do. All the interactions and experiences helped me better understand the sense of community and acceptance that Pride events foster.

These first Pride experiences have already changed how I see myself and my place in the community. There's something meaningful about being in spaces created by and for queer people. These spaces remind us that we exist, we create, we celebrate, and we belong. Whether wearing my cryptid dress, showing off my new tattoo, or simply being present, I feel like I'm truly part of the community now. I'm no longer just looking in from the outside, but participating and connecting with others.

With pride and gratitude,
Ravte ^w^

Posted from the terminal at RavteCyber.fish

Beyond the Code

Hello there! I'm Ravte, and this is the beginning of what I hope will be a meaningful journey—both for me as I write, and perhaps for you as you read. I've been working as a software engineer since 2008, primarily building enterprise software solutions. Lines of code have been my constant companions for nearly two decades now, but there's so much more to life—and to me—than what appears on a screen.

For the longest time, I've lived a life that looked "correct" from the outside. I followed the path that society laid out: education, career, relationships—all according to a heteronormative blueprint that never quite felt right. It was like wearing someone else's clothes; they covered me, but they never truly belonged to me.

My journey as a software engineer has always been intertwined with my personal identity. The logical structures and patterns that make sense in code provided a framework when my internal world felt chaotic. Programming became both my shield and my mirror—protecting me from confronting certain truths while simultaneously reflecting back the parts of myself that yearned for authentic expression.

Dreams and Digital Worlds

My passion for digital creativity began in childhood, long before my professional career. I remember spending hours with a hex editor, altering PC games like Dogz—changing colors, behaviors, and creating my own digital pets that existed outside the game's intended parameters.

My original dream was to become a technical artist for video game development. I was captivated by the magic of creating digital worlds where anything was possible—spaces where I could exist beyond the confines of expectations. While my career took me toward enterprise software, that desire for authentic expression never left me.

This connection became clear when I realized I was spending hours creating game avatars that represented not who I was pretending to be, but who I truly was inside. That digital representation felt more authentic than the person I saw in the mirror each morning—a revelation both frightening and freeing.

After years in enterprise development, I've rediscovered that early creative joy. Creating VRChat avatars has become more than just a hobby—it's a reconnection with that child who fearlessly altered digital worlds. Through experimenting with form and figure in virtual reality, I've discovered elements of my desired gender expression that I couldn't articulate before.

I've also begun Twitch streaming and am currently building my own Vtubing software using Unity—a convergence of my technical skills and creative expression that allows me to present myself authentically while maintaining necessary boundaries.

Living in the Wrong Puzzle

Throughout most of my life, I've tried to fit into heteronormative society without fully understanding why it felt so uncomfortable. I smiled in the right places, said the right things, and built a life that looked successful on paper. But inside, there was always a disconnect, a quiet voice whispering that something wasn't aligned.

Looking back, I can see how getting "stuck" in enterprise development was directly tied to my attempts to fit a heteronormative mold. I chose this career path partly because it offered stability and financial security—qualities I believed were necessary to fulfill expectations of what a "normal" life should look like. The irony isn't lost on me that I excelled at creating systems for businesses while my own internal systems were running on code that wasn't mine.

Discovering My Community

In recent years, that whisper has grown louder, impossible to ignore. I've begun to understand the LGBT community not as something separate from me, but as a home I never knew I had. Finding my place within this community has been like finally finding where I belong.

My journey to finding this community began with tentative steps—following LGBT creators online, reading personal stories that resonated with my experiences, and gradually acknowledging the reflection I saw in them. Through online forums, local meetups, and close friendships with others on similar journeys, I've found a tapestry of experiences that help me make sense of my own.

I use she/they pronouns. These simple words feel liberating—like finally finding the right key for a lock I've been struggling with for years. Along with those pronouns came the discovery of terms that helped me understand myself: panromantic, demisexual, transfeminine. Finding these words was both exhilarating and terrifying. There's something profoundly unsettling about discovering language for feelings you've had your entire life but couldn't name. But with that fear came an incredible sense of clarity.

The Challenging Path to Authenticity

This journey hasn't been easy. There have been moments of confusion, fear, and doubt. But there have also been profound moments of clarity, joy, and connection.

Coming out to family members who had only ever known the version of me that tried to fit into society's expectations has been particularly challenging. Some relationships have needed to be reconfigured, with awkward adjustments and occasional missteps. Others have surprised me with their easy acceptance.

A significant milestone has been starting feminizing hormone replacement therapy in November 2024. It's been both a physical and emotional transformation—watching my body slowly align with my inner self has been nothing short of miraculous. The process isn't without challenges—mood swings, physical discomforts, and the constant awareness of how society views those who transition. But there's also an indescribable rightness that comes with each passing month.

The professional world has presented its own challenges. Tech spaces aren't always known for their inclusivity, and I've had to carefully navigate when and how to bring my full self to work.

A Promise of Authenticity

This blog is my commitment to documenting this journey of self-discovery. It's a promise to myself to remain honest—with myself and with you. I want to capture the challenges and triumphs, the questions and revelations, the steps backward and the leaps forward.

In future posts, I'll explore the intersection of technology and identity, share insights from my experiences in the tech industry as a member of the LGBT community, discuss the importance of representation in digital spaces, and reflect on how creating code and creating an authentic life share surprising similarities.

I don't know exactly where this path leads, but I know that walking it authentically is the only way forward. If my words resonate with even one person who's struggling to find their own truth, then sharing my story will have been worth it.

So here's to beginnings. Here's to authenticity. Here's to the courage to be who we truly are, even when it's difficult. And here's to you, for joining me on this journey. This space is meant to be a conversation, not a monologue—a place where we can all find pieces of ourselves in each other's stories.

With hope and determination,
Ravte ^w^

Posted from the terminal at RavteCyber.fish