When I spend time around furries, I don’t feel wrong for the way my face moves or my desire to carry around a small stuffed toy or how much work it is to control the tone of my voice or all the other weird quirks that make me feel wrong and broken by the rest of the world.
I hear the refrain that “furry is welcoming” a lot, and I also say it. But I don’t think people pay a lot of attention to what that really means. It’s not some vague, positive feeling. It’s a really active way that furries listen to people even if they’re odd and present weirdly.
I helped a friend years ago sell her hair fascinators at a sci-fi convention, and she let me sell my (at the time, single) book off the corner of her table.
So, of course, all the furries stopped by to talk to me about my obviously furry book.
My friend and the other guy from our writing group helping with the table were really creeped out by the furries who stopped to talk to me. Some of them clutched giant stuffed animals; some spoke in weird stilted tones or sort of stared into the middle distance while talking…
Obviously, not all furries come across this way. But here’s the thing:
I basically never see furries treat someone as weird or creepy just because they present as — let’s be honest — obviously neurodivergent. They’re treated like people.
I do a pretty good job of passing as “normal” when I work at it. I didn’t always used to realize how much I was working at it…
But around furries, I don’t -have- to work at it. I can just be a person, and damn, that’s so much better.
Everywhere else in the world, I have to worry that my face is going to show my emotions too plainly or my tone will be too sharp if I’m not always being careful. This means I spend a lot of time just swallowing my words and watching. Because engaging is too damned hard.
Anyway, furries are awesome, and I wish the rest of the world would catch up.