SPRINGFIELD — In a joint statement delivered via a synchronized TikTok live from the back room of a downtown queer coffee shop, the Springfield Trans Liberation & Glow-Up Caucus (STLG&GC) issued a unified demand: society must accept each member exactly as she presents today—no archived photos, no “before” comparisons, no nostalgic family comments, and definitely no asking about sports teams from 2011.
“We have each individually performed years of rigorous self-erasure,” read the group’s spokesperson, 35-year-old Kayden Hargrove, flanked by six other women nodding in perfect unison. Behind them hung a banner reading “PAST SELVES ARE DEAD TO US (and should be to you too).” “We’ve burned childhood albums, changed every legal document three times, ratio’d aunts who post throwbacks, and successfully memory-holed entire varsity rosters. That’s labor. Therefore the social contract now requires you to applaud the current patch notes without reading the changelog.”
When a reporter gently inquired whether lifelong repudiation of one’s original self might create a slight tension with the expectation of blanket, criticism-free acceptance, the caucus responded with a choreographed eye-roll and a single, harmonized sigh.
“Consistency is a cis construct,” explained 42-year-old Raven Minkowski, adjusting her septum ring. “We’ve already done the hardest part: killing the guy in the mirror. The least the public can do is stan the resurrection without commentary. If you like a pre-HRT selfie someone dug up from 2014, that’s not support—that’s sabotage.”
Fellow caucus member 29-year-old Luna Voss elaborated while live-editing her Instagram bio mid-sentence.
“I used to fix motorcycles and listen to dad rock in a garage that smelled like motor oil and regret,” she said. “Now I’m 5’11” in six-inch platforms, serve full-time cyber-siren energy, and post daily mirror selfies captioned ‘dysphoria lost this round.’ If you hesitate for even one second before hitting the heart button, you’re literally reinforcing the colonial gender binary. Do better.”
Dr. Meredith Lang, adjunct professor of Contemporary Identity Ledger Studies at Springfield Community College, calls the phenomenon “group-level moral arbitrage at scale.”
“It’s beautifully efficient,” she noted. “By pooling their individual self-rejection efforts into a collective claim, the caucus multiplies the debt of affirmation owed to them. They become a class-action plaintiff, a nonprofit advocacy wing, and the court of public opinion all at once. The invoice is now addressed to ‘Everyone Except Us.’”
At press time the STLG&GC was finalizing a 98-slide Canva presentation titled “Why Asking ‘What Was Your Name Before?’ Constitutes Hate Speech and Also Emotional Labor Theft,” while simultaneously soft-blocking seventeen local family members who had the audacity to comment “you look so happy now!” under decade-old vacation photos.
The group concluded the live by linking their Ko-fi, Venmo, and a wishlist titled “help us afford more lasers so the before pictures stay blurry forever.”
Society has been reminded—in 144 characters or less—to like, share, repost with pride flags, and accept delivery of the upgraded models without peeking at version history or questioning the patch cycle.
Early adoption rates continue to fluctuate wildly.
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Jeremy Spoken
None of the snowflakes in an avalanche feels responsible.
