Sometimes Otherkinity Is Having The Inexplicable Urge To Mark Things As Yours. Sometimes It’s Scent

I grew up with the innate knowledge that the phrase "be yourself" did not apply to me.

I love logging on everyday and seeing y'all share your stories I'm litteraly crying behind the screen (/pos, and because imma huge crybaby) i was so nervous when i first joined the community, I had just learned what a therian/otherkin/nonhuman was a few months prior, and been going over the label for a long while. I always went back and fourth between furry and petregressor and it never felt right.

When I first made my account i still had second thoughts, what if im a fake and not a 'real' therian, after all I'm seeing accounts with age 20+, hell, even some 30+ year olds, which most of them have known for YEARS that they were therians and have these account to post their awesome experiences with younger therians, and then seeing those young ones too, already knowing who they are. And then there's me at the awkward age of 18 a grown adult but not quite. it embarrassed me that i didn't already know what a therian was, and that i was one, so i doubted myself at first, but with each post i read, and each experience that i found myself relating too, I felt myself becoming more comfortable with this life and just... Feel more like me actually. Even with December depression weighing me down, curling up by a heater and gnawing onna dog toy got me through it, helped me cope when I've never been able to cope before.

Thank you guys for existing. This account has been my safe haven for all things therian, when i know no one im my stupid conservative town irl would accept me.

True love does exist ❤️

i have a horrible disease that can only be cured with attention and pets and scritches

have therians discovered these digging gloves yet

i feel like they’d like them……

therians what are your thoughts

This new sensory chew toy lasted not even 24 hours. I got that dawg in me🗣️🗣️🔥🔥‼️‼️🫵🫵🫵🗣️🗣️

You wakeup to realize its all a dream.

Your whole human life was just one long wolf nap.

Years of species dysphoria and hatred towards your human body just for it to not be real.

The joy you feel is unimaginable.

You stretch your limbs and back and run off into the forest to find your pack that you've missed so dearly.

The term and concept of "rent lowering gunshots" has seeped into my mental vocabulary, and I've welcomed it there. Something I'm up to is gross and weird? Good, keeps the rent low. Keeps judgy people out. Post weird shit on your blog, do weird shit to your hair, be as fucky as your heart ever wants to be. If you're not the one making the profit, make yourself unprofitable. The aposematism of brightly coloured creatures is there to warn predators, not friends.

You have no moral obligation to make yourself palatable for those who would consume you.