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Like a Muffin with Frosting

This is a metaphor about gender and my relationship to my chest without speaking directly about my chest.

I'm like a muffin with frosting. I look like a cupcake, but I'm not. I'm a muffin.

And listen, there's nothing wrong with frosting. I love frosting! Frosting is boss! Whether or not frosting is super incredible is not the issue! The issue is that I do not identify with the frosting, particularly because it does not reinforce my identity as a muffin and as it does contribute to other people thinking I'm a cupcake.

Really, the only reason to keep the frosting is for other people who really like cupcakes and think that I might be one. Or people who really like muffins and frosting. But the point is keeping the frosting would be to reify the idea that the space I take is only for the pleasure of others--others who like frosting. And it hides my muffin-ness from the world and, most importantly, myself.

You might say, fuck pastry rolls!! What is it about frosting that is so "cupcake-y"? Why can't muffins have frosting!? To that I say, hell yeah! That is a really excellent decision for other muffins and I totally support them!! But it's not for me. The frosting feels like a burden. The frosting makes me feel like I don't have agency over my own muffin body.

It is worth noting that some muffins with frosting do not want their frosting but will not be able to have it removed because they lack the resources, are not supported socially, or it is not medically safe for them. Even for muffins who do not like their frosting, frosting removal is not always an option.

It's also worth noting that the binary nature of this metaphor is incidental. There are not only muffins and cupcakes. There are donuts and pies. Some danishes without cream cheese. Some bundt cakes with sprinkles. Some cherry pies that were made with cheesecake filling instead.

Is a muffin with frosting just a cupcake? In this case, I posit that it is not.

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