Never TSF a dude with undiagnosed mental issues, it does not fix them!
TSF Showcase 2025-13:
She is Me by Jot
I would love to give an in-depth history lesson about She is Me, or She !s Me or Oh Nein, Ich Bin Ein Mädchen. Unfortunately, due to life circumstances, I am writing and producing the majority of this showcase while in the UK, assisting a friend who had surgery, far from my usual set-up, using a work laptop. So forgive me for the more anecdotal history lesson.
She is Me originally ran from 2007 to 2011, where it was published, in German, on sites like ComicGate.de or MyComics.de. Naturally, it received English translations at some point during its run, but I don’t believe it received a full or complete translation until 2013, when the comic’s creator, Jot, published a series of definitive release PDFs on their DeviantArt page.
I distinctly remember finding this comic during my TG enthusiast days as a young teen in the late 2000s, sifting through the internet for anything where a guy turns into a girl, and gobbling it up. There was a lot of blasé stuff, but there were several that stuck with me for how passionate and raw they were, in a way that appealed to my own burgeoning sensibilities. Works that showed me what TSF could be.
I only was able to read the first few chapters or so— this was before we had image-based translation software— but I eventually found the English PDFs years later and read through the comic in full. It stuck with me, and though my memories of the story faded in time, I knew it had enough stuff to warrant an interesting showcase. But before getting into all that stuff, I need to make a note about the creator, Jot, or SheJot.
Jot frequently refers to themself as a femboy, take hormones, but don’t have any plans for surgery. They’re also quite into fitness and have repeatedly posted dick pics on main for whatever that’s worth. That is… a bit strange, but they threw a pronoun into their handle, so I guess they’re she/her.
Also, in a move that muddles things, there are pages of this comic that credit the copyright of this work to Jan Maass. At least implying that Jan was Jot’s prior handle or name. This is worth noting as the protagonist of She is Me is also named Jan. I don’t know if Jot was taking the idea of a self-insert to a logical extreme here or anything. I don’t know Jot— I’ve never spoken to them or left a comment on any of their work. But in interest of respecting the creator, I’m viewing the author and protagonist as two completely separate entities for the sake of this showcase.
Part 1: Oh No! I Turned Into A Girl!
She is Me opens up like many TSF stories before and after it. With the protagonist, Jan— short for Janice— waking up and realizing that, oh no, I’m a girl right after he walks into the restroom. But in a move that bucks the genre trends, and gives us an… idea of what to expect going forward, the transformation left Jan queasy, leading him to projectile vomit right onto the toilet lid. Jan is, strangely, not too discouraged by this, quickly cleaning up the mess before taking note of what the hell happened, thinking in short snippy sentence fragments.
Looking around, everything is as it was and was it should, from his computer to his clothes to his wallet to his flat. Everything except for his body. One that, based on a small look at his ID, appears to be a female version of his original self. Perplexed by this, Jan grabs a drink from the fridge and sits in his bed, contemplating on what to do for… four hours before deciding to masturbate. Because what else is one supposed to do?
The mood is swiftly broken by the ringing of a telephone, leading Jan to actually get out of bed and get on with his day. Showering, doing some standard grooming, getting dressed in the only shirt that will fit, avoiding doing anything else lewd, and booting up his PC. …Or at least trying to.
Right when he needs the internet the most, Jan’s Windows ME PC bluescreens, and he can’t figure out how to get it working again, being reduced to tears as his efforts fail. With his patience sapped, Jan phones a local computer repair guy for a house call. And seeing as how he just called to address one problem, Jan then calls up his boss, trying to explain that he can’t come into work… only to get fired on the spot.
Jan collapses from the weight brought on this day. He’s lost his body, his PC is in the crapper, and he doesn’t have the means to pay the rent for his flat come next month! Before he can sink into the abyss of despair, the computer guy— Manfred Musterman— arrives at his flat, sending Jan down another murky avenue. Manfred is a typical dorky guy, a bit taken aback by the pantless Jan as he enters his apartment, though he’s professional, quickly assesses the problem, and gives him a pretty generous rate for a home service repair.
However, Jan cannot help but notice that Manfred is popping a boner as he stares at Jan’s exposed legs. This offers our first glimpse that Jan might not be the most… balanced when it comes to his mental state. He is struck by the fact that this guy, this MAN, wants to FUCK him, and as he recognizes his newfound vulnerability, he looks on at his kitchen knives with a murderous intent.
He doesn’t go through with it— thankfully. Instead, he puts on a pair of baggy pants and hides a knife in the pocket, ready to stab Manfred if he tries anything funny. Manfred does not notice this and merely hand Jan an invoice, professionally explaining the problem before departing. Jan, in retrospect, realizes that he was overreacting and chooses to blame himself for the sorted scenario before spending the rest of the day on the computer. He researches his situation for till the wee hours of the morning, only finding “stupid stories” and “a bunch of bullshit that doesn’t help [him].”
Frustrated by the lack of any useful information, Jan looks up past his skylight at the snowy winter night, wishing that he could stop think and stop worrying and just enjoy the frosty atmosphere. But he can’t. He has no clue what happened to him, or why, and is left restless in his bed before deciding to down some… sleeping medicine, I think. This seems to work as Jan walks back to his bedroom and finds Chiky— or Chicky as it is later spelled. A plush shark from his childhood that he pulls out of his wardrobe as another sleeping aid.
Yeah, this kind of comes out of nowhere, but kicks off one of the most important parts of the entire series. Chicky and Jan’s vivid yet abstract dreams. Chicky is quickly established as something that emboldens Jan, protects him in his dreams, and brings him clarity in a world that has stopped making sense. Chicky is, plainly, a figure of comfort, familiarity, and innocence that Jan relies upon throughout the story.
The first dream, of many, sees Jan dressed in bandages, bleeding from his skull, and chained to a chair, with a giant button drifting further and further out of reach. A voice demands that he push the button, and Jan eventually relents to the voice, reaching for it with his show-clad feet… only for Chicky to stop him by biting into his neck. A torrent of blood bursts out of his jugular, and the ensuing pain springs Jan out of bed.
Out of bed, into the bathroom, where Jan takes a scalpel and… tries to kill himself.
If that seems like it comes out of nowhere, it does. Jan has been through a lot this past day, has reason to feel frustrated or hopeless, but without expressing any prior ideation, he pricks his wrist with a scalpel, dripping a trail of blood from his work station to his bathroom before braving up to face the day.
…But first, he needs to get dressed. Jan decides to cut his shirt from yesterday, forming a cropped tee before grabbing some sportswear and a Santa hat to keep him warm. Dressed in vaguely appropriate clothing, he rushes out with his army green messenger bag, biking through the snow. While doing so, Jan comes to terms with how weaker, and susceptible to the cold, he is with this new body as he ventures out to the office of his family doctor, Dr. Froelich.
We are not given a clear reason why Jan is going here via his internal narration. He just sort of does what he thinks is best, and we need to play catch-up.
At the doctor’s office, Jan manages to cause enough of a stir at the receptionist’s desk, refusing to provide a name or ID, that Dr. Froelich invites him inside to discuss what ails him. We are then treated to another common occurrence in this series, where Jan tries to explain something simple through labored metaphors or roundabout phrasing, often in ways that don’t translate well to English.
After some misinterpretation, Jan finally explains why he went to Dr. Froelich. Claiming that Froelich was there when he had a health scare regarding leukemia and was the one who supported him when his father passed away. (Jan is an orphan by the way, hence why he doesn’t contact his parents. And no, this is not directly addressed.) So Froelich is the closest thing to family he has left.
Jan’s words convince Froelich that something is up with Jan, and after some coaxing, Jan lays out his papers, explaining that he woke up as a girl yesterday. Froelich asks if he means he exchanged bodies with a girl, but Jan says that is not the case. That he is still himself and recognizes this body as his body, despite the change in physical sex. …And despite having some other signs that this body has been lived in.
You see, Jan woke up with mascara, three gold colored earrings on his right ear, long hair, and shaved armpits, all indications that he did not suddenly transform one day, but that this was someone else’s body. Well, the last two are part and parcel of the genre, but the first two are red flags that something is up.
In my genre savviness, I would assume this to be some sort of parallel world swap, where Jan switched bodies with a version of himself from another universe where he was assigned female at birth, and there was a parallel story going on in the background. Oh Nein, Ich Bin Ein Junge, if you will. Is that actually the case? Maybe! Let’s find out!
Naturally, as a man of science and biology, Dr. Froelich does not believe in this supernatural phenomenon, but he tries to comfort Jan, saying that he believes that Jan believes his story, but that answer pulls Jan into a hissy-fit, assuming Froelich wants to throw him in an asylum. Yeah, get used to this. Jan is a very emotional person who has a tendency to explode at people when they do pretty much anything.
Jan is the type of person who would get mad with someone if they disagreed with him for good reasons, but would also get mad at them if they agreed with him for bad reasons. With people like him, there are no real best approaches one can take, as Jan does not know what reaction he wants. It’s impossible for anybody, especially if they don’t know Jan particularly well, to understand what reaction he wants. Dude’s just a ball of nerves, and while he is justified, in whatever sense one can be— changing your hormone cycle can be hell on the best of us— he is very much his own worst enemy, and this does not relent throughout the series.
Jot snaps at Dr. Froelich for not believing in his story, and storms off, saying that while he might not know what is going on, he knows one thing very well. “I’m me!”
Tangent 1: A Bushel of Tangents
So, there are a few topics I want to bring up in discussing She is Me, and now seems like as good a place as any. Normally, I try to structure these tangents a bit more. But here, I think it is best to just throw them out there, one by one. Starting with the translation.
The majority of this comic was translated entirely by Jot themself, and while they are German, meaning they probably had English lessons as part of their school curriculum, their grasp on the language was… a bit loose. At least back in 2007-2011. They’re considerably better nowadays.
There are grammatical errors, typos, incorrect word usage, and it can be a bit tricky to suss out the meaning in certain lines due to the phrasing and structural differences between English and German. They received help from people earlier on in the series, but beginning chapter 17, they were working on the English translation on their own, coincidentally when the story becomes more complicated.
Now, I actually have a high level of respect for creators who choose to translate their own work, as while linguistic misunderstandings, awkward phrasing, and errors can follow, this means the whole of the work is coming from the original creator, without any interpreter in between. It makes the work feel more raw and personal, in a sense, and I think this messier translation strangely works with a story like She is Me.
She is Me is not the most overt or direct comic. Jot, as a creator, is on the record for not being a big script or outline person. I believe that, while there was a vague idea for where She is Me would go, Jot was coming up with the story a chapter at a time, writing what felt right, rather than what was the most logical or rational thing for the narrative arc of the main protagonist. Jan is a person who exists in a whirlwind of chaos, a person whose life and body don’t make sense, and the longer the story goes on, the more perplexing their behavior becomes.
You can criticize the work for this, for its lack of planning, consistency, and steady plot momentum— moving the story forward in a logical and concise manner. However, I think this approach adds to the chaos inherent to the premise, and accurately reflects how Jan, as a character, would navigate it. Him getting up, running away, and circling back to danger makes sense at a character level. These actions match his personality, and reflects his uncertainty in everything, even though it can be frustrating at later points in the story, where it can feel a teensy bit meandering. Not boring, but definitely listless. So look forward to some heavy abridging there.
This lack of planning can also be reflected in the dreams. They are artistically rich and emotionally dense, full of great imagery and powerful thematic value, but much of the logic in them can feel a bit loose of back-filled, I mainly just view them as illustrations of the chaos, pain, and terror that is filling Jan’s mind.
We never get to see who Jan was before all of this, but their behavior, to me, indicates that they had pre-existing issues. And I know from personal experience that, if someone has mental problems and loses their normal, then bad things happen. It would not be wrong to describe She is Me is a TSF story where someone with mental problems or neurodivergences undergoes a transformation that causes them immense psychological pain.
Lastly, I also should touch upon the artwork. In the early 21st century, there is no shortage of artists sharing their work, honing their craft, and using cheap modern tools to make art for wide distribution. Digital artists have exploded in resources, quantity, and visibility in the past 25 years, to the point where I think most artists would be digital artists. Jot though? Jot’s old school.
She drew She is Me, and pretty much all of their works, on paper. She colored it using what I initially thought to be paint, but per additional snooping around, it appears to be gel pens. This physical approach to its production and more textured approach to coloring gives the comic a distinct look that I seldom ever see, especially in this medium.
It is more labored, intensive, and prone to mistakes as a full digital or hybrid approach, but I think it works very well. It adds a layer of unevenness that perfectly gels with what the story is trying to be. Something beautiful yet rough, with occasionally warped or twisted proportions, but always organic in its construction. (Technically, certain effects, like lighting or glowing, and most text, were added digitally, but my point still stands.)
My only gripe with it is that the original scans were, well, of their time. The official PDFs look nice, but zooming in reveals how low resolution the underlying images. Again, if you are an artist, always go for higher resolutions. Maybe don’t post a 30 MB image, but save it on a USB stick or hard drive. Trust me, the inheritors of your estate will thank you.
Part 2: Wandering Soul
After storming out of Dr. Froelich’s office, Jan bikes through the wintry roads, stopping by Manfred to pay his bill, and grabbing a meal at a diner, musing about his next destination, Buxtehude. The truckers at the diner catch wind of this, telling Jan that the bike paths are not clear and offering to give him a drive. Not really out of the goodness of their own heart, but because they look at Jan and see a pretty young woman with an exposed midriff and big boobs.
Jan accepts one of the truckers’ offer and chats with him in his usual aggressive manner. Dropping that he joined a compulsory social service program for men. Objecting as the driver considers himself to be a trucker. Criticizing the trucker for only offering him a ride because he appears to be a girl. And spurring the trucker to make some… ‘of their time’ comments on transgender people. Saying that trans women could never have the “natural charm” of a “real woman,” while insisting that Jan has to be a “real woman.” The type of uninformed analysis you’d expect from a stereotypical trucker in 2007.
Rather than just include transphobia for the hell of it, this scene is meant to affirm that Jan is seen by strangers as a woman. Not as a trans woman, or a ‘man who used to be a woman,’ but an attractive cisgender woman. A fact that is further felt as Jan gets off the truck— more of a van really— and starts feeling stomach cramps as he goes through a discount shop, grabbing clothes for his new body. A sweater, pants, two bras he buys without trying them on, and some generic necessities. Then, right as he is in the tampons section, he starts bleeding through his white pants.
I need to give this story kudos for incorporating menstruation as part of its story, as many TSF stories and TSF creators are too timid, afraid, or disinterested in this biological fact to explore it. (Myself included, but for lore reasons.) It’s not something that happens later on after the protagonist has gotten a handle on their new body, it happens right away, in chapter 5 of 33, and happens at literally as Jan is handling a box of tampons for the first time in his life. lol. lmao even.
That being said, the fact that Jan is on his period for much of this story does, in some way, further obfuscate his actions. He is not used to regular girl hormones, so being thrown into a state commonly attributed to high emotions or sensitivity muddles the waters a bit. Is he is a natural moody person, or is the influx of new uneven hormones affecting his behavior and judgment? I don’t menstruate, so I’m not gonna say anything definitive, but it is another way to view the story.
After paying for his new essentials, Jan rushes off to the WC to address his biology, but mistakenly enters the men’s room out of habit. Gotta love the classics! Though Jan does not realize what he did until he’s already jamming a tampon inside him, battling nausea before basking in a sense of relief. Throwing on a ‘clean’ pair of pants before walking out… only to get accosted by a trio of skaterboy dipshits, making fun of him for this faux pas as he defiantly flips them off and walks away. A scene that shows Jan has some patience for assholes and does not always rush into a fight.
Next Jan goes to a photo booth to get a transit card for the greater Hamburg area— which seems weirdly inefficient in the modern era of mostly anonymized transit cards— and hops on a bus. Where to? Why, a church!
With nobody to turn to— remember, Jan is an orphan— he ventures out to a big old church and starts ranting at the man on the cross, asking why this happened to him, criticizing the nature of religion as the Gods never respond, never give any answers, yet people are not allowed to doubt them. Typical ‘young adult raised Catholic rage’ at the system, amplified by the fact that Jan’s body was changed for reasons nobody knows and nobody would believe. He has no idea how to go on, his body hasn’t returned to normal like he hoped, and he simply cannot go on living like this.
Predictably, the priest of this church comes out as Jan finishes his tirade, and he tries to offer this young ‘woman’ some comfort. Seeing as how a blizzard kicked up over the past few minutes, Jan cannot very well bike home, and the priest offers him a ride. Jan does not refuse and, once locked in a metal box with a priest, decides to play along and talk his ear off. Which… honestly just reads like someone who was raised Catholic voicing their complaints over the institution of religion, giving people a false hope, a belief that there is an afterlife, that the world has rules, that things can be controlled.
Following this rant, the priest leaves Jan at his apartment, to which he finds someone opening up his door, and it’s Dr. Froelich again, who was sifting through his patient’s apartment because the lock was broken. I’ve heard of house calls, but this is just an invasion of privacy!
The scene itself is a microcosm of some of the more frustrating elements I mentioned in my tangent section. There’s not a clear point or purpose to this encounter. Not much is accomplished. Jan is bratty and does not have a goal beyond pushing someone’s buttons. And things end when the other party’s patience is sapped. Dr. Froelich leaves after Jan engages in some hugely unconvincing arguments, saying that he expects to see Jan— ‘the real Jan’— in his practice tomorrow. Something that Jan, naturally, cannot do, and something that is never followed up on.
With this avenue closed off to him, Jan decides that he needs to head off to Hamburg next. What for? Well, the story pointedly does not specify, but keep this fact in your back pocket, as about ten percent of this comic is in some part about this journey.
Unable to sleep, he wakes up early and tries to form a decent look for him to adopt as he ventures back into the world as a girl, picking the clothes, hairstyle, and even applying a bit of makeup. Which is… a questionable choice, especially if he is trying to convince people that he’s really a guy. He also has a moment where he struggles to enjoy movies he liked before his transformation, spurring him to ask if his sexual preferences changed as part of this transformation. A concept that the story plays around with a good amount, with Jan eventually blossoming into a confused bisexual TSF protagonist.
Once he has effectively gotten ready for the day, Jan begins contemplating leaving his flat, only to have, well, a panic attack. For reasons that are not logical, he begins viewing this home as not a refuge from the outside world, but “ground zero” for his transformation. He criticizes himself for not exploring his home well enough, for not considering any local environmental factors, before his bedroom lightbulb suddenly blows up, leading Jan to grab Chicky and leave. But only after Jan comments that, if he was brave enough, he could end it all with the bloody scalpel he left on his desk.
Jan then makes his way to a bus station to begin his voyage to Hamburg, transferring from one bus to a train in a series of more moody atmospheric pages, capturing the darkness and loneliness of a cold winter morning before sunrise. Though, there are two snippets worth commenting on.
Firstly, a bus driver makes a comment that Jan looks like he is 12, calling him a little girl, in a move that… I don’t understand. Jan is 22, looks like a legal adult from the way he is depicted, and while he is prone to act like a moody teen at times, nothing about the way he looks justifies someone thinking they are 12, 14, or 1. I’m not sure if this was an artistic choice or not, or something Jot struggled to capture— some artists are bad at drawing children. I think the intention is to further demean Jan, to have people not only see him as a woman, but as a girl, as a child, right after he became a fully fledged adult.
Secondly, Jan casually remarks that he is heading to school, which… feels like something that should have been mentioned before, and raises further questions. Why did he not contact his school about his absence, while contacting his job? Why would he live so far from school that he would need to take such a long commute? He’s renting, and it’s probably cheaper outside the city, but this feels like back-filling, like Jot did not plan on having Jan go to school when writing chapter 2, and only thought of this destination in chapter 8.
While commuting, Jan happens to run into his ex-girlfriend, Lummy, and rather than just let her pass him by, as she would not have reason to help him, he tries to close off their relationship, two years after they broke up. Jan claims to be ‘Jan’s friend’ as he tries to tell Lummy how much he misses her. How time slipped away from him, and how he does not approve of Lummy’s new boyfriend, calling him a “muesli-freak.” Whatever that means. He ends things by hugging Lummy, leaving her to get on with his life… only for Lummy and her new boyfriend to, I think, flip him off as he makes an exchange.
It’s a minor encounter that is meant to show off that Jan had a life before this, and is the type of person to procrastinate when painful matters, or at least painful romantic matters. But is also not a coward who will let opportunities to do the right thing pass him by. He means well, even if his approach can be off-putting.
Moving onto the next train ride, Jan gets wrapped up into a scuffle involving a fashionista dressed comically out of season and some dipshit with a buzzcut. Naturally, buzzcut starts hitting on the fashionista, putting his hands on her leg. Upon seeing this, Jan starts causing a fuss, eventually gets the train guards to chase buzzcut away. This display, that I’m abridging for convenience, impresses the fashionista, who gives him a thorough look over, criticizing his outfit. The fashionista eventually reveals that she’s actually a fashion designer and wants to hire him for being so authentic, for not being fake or putting up a front.
Getting recruited by a modeling agency is a common trope in TSF comics— though, it’s often that the TSF protagonist is the hottest girl around— but Jan naturally pushes the fashion designer away. Not exploding at her because, well, she’s a hot woman and Jan does not need to act tough around her. Instead, he thinks things through and tells her that he’s on an “orphan’s pension” meaning he cannot make that much money.
Side note, but this is typically how a lot of social pension programs work. You make too much money, and you get less money. It makes sense on paper, but the math does not always add up when accounting for cost of living and economic value. You should want pensioners to work if they want to! Maybe not full-time, but a part-time job is great for a lot of retired people.
Back to the story, the fashion designer does not take no for an answer, and hands Jan her card, telling him to meet her at 4:30 PM. Jan should be annoyed by how forward she is, but I think he’s smitten by her looks and boldness, remarking that she’s great as she departs. …Like I said, Jan is a confused bisexual TSF protagonist. He might not know how to have lesbian sex, but the boy wants it bad.
The next chapter, chapter 11, is frontloaded with more pontification and recollection from Jan. Wondering if he made mistakes up to this point. He regrets how he did not check his room. Regrets how the world is indifferent to his problems. And bemoans how much he needs to find people who believe his story, as otherwise, how can he get on with his life?
But before he can reach any sort of conclusion, as if there is one, Jan is approached by the jagoffs who made fun of him for entering the wrong restroom, and he punches one of them in the face. What follows is a fight scene, but one obscured by a series of bloody visions that Jan experiences. As he is elbowed in the gut, his vision becomes coated with red. Dogs bark at him as one of the guy’s friends tries to calm Jan down, before Jan stops the train and runs away. I can tell there is an intention with this scene… but the presentation is a bit too warping for me to gather the intention beyond, in some way, showing the visceral discomfort of trying to fight or getting hit in an unfamiliar form.
On that note, chapter 12 is mostly notable for Jan thinking to check his body for scars he used to have, only to find nothing. A move that weirdly adds credence to the theory that a body swapping event occurred, with Jan entertaining the idea. Despite this, Jan is still convinced that this is, somehow, his body, and with that affirmation, he finally makes his trek to his school.
Part 3: Burning Bridges with Friends
This stretch of the story curiously begins with a disclaimer that any persons featured at this school are fictional characters and any similarities with real people are coincidences. Leading me to think that these characters are at least inspired by people Jot personally went to school with. A curious idea, but for a comic that has a personal bent as this, I can understand why Jot would want to include suspiciously similar versions of people she knew back in university.
Jan wanders through the school briefly before finding his classmates/friends. A tall brown-haired boy named Sebastian and a short blonde-haired boy named Phillip. Jan joins them in an elevator in a happy accident and, right as they are talking about their missing partner for a group project, Jan stops the elevator and begins trying to explain his situation. …Except he explains it in a fractured, roundabout way that makes him seem like a crazy person, especially as he literally drags them to the basement of another building.
Coincidentally, the fourth member of their group, Micha, a black-haired man with glasses, joins them in the basement, and Jan embarks on a hectic attempt to explain what’s going on. It’s an explanation with a lot of awkward phrasing, shoving, and Jan openly acknowledging how “crackbrained” his story is. Micha, being the sensible one, is inclined to leave this crazy ‘girl’ behind and prepare for his class presentation, but Sebastian and Phillip, while not believing Jan, think his attitude is authentic and want to give him a fair chance.
…Before they can test that though, the four lads need to get to class for their group presentation, the rest reasoning that if Jan is who he says he is, he should be able to do his part just fine. Jan agrees to this arrangement, but as he sits in the classroom, with the dimmed lights, ambient noises of people rustling things around, of the old projector, he… snaps.
Blood fills his vision, he departs from reality, and finds himself in a white void, naked aside from his shoes, kneeling in the blood of a giant Chicky while distant figures make an ominous clicking sound.
I made this page the header image for a reason. Because it is the most iconic page in the entire comic. A striking piece of artwork that speaks to the raw visceral emotions present in this work, and a compelling visual on its own. …But in context, what is this supposed to say? The dream sequence comes out of nowhere, ends after two full pages, and the biggest fact to intuit from this is that Jan is afraid of the dark, something that was already established when his bedroom light blew up.
This is what I meant in my tangent earlier. She is Me can be gorgeous, vivid, and provocative, but the meaning is very much open to interpretation. Sure, this scene is meant to convey Jan’s vulnerability, fear, and uncertainty, but fear of what and vulnerability towards what? He’s just at school, and he can look through the blinds to see the blue sky. Evan Jan himself is confused as to what this vision meant and why he reacts the way he does, freaking out again when the projector light shines on him, making him feel… exposed?
After giving his presentation, Jan rushes outside, leaving behind Micha and getting chased by Phillip and Sebastian as Jan goes… to buy a bra. Because the bra he’s wearing is too big and his sweater is too small. Sebastian points out how they have other classes for the day, but Jan keeps walking away and, with this mystery before them, Phillip and Sebastian run after him, as this seems more important than school. It’s a sign of good faith, but Jan is too paranoid to actually trust them, insisting to himself that they must be up to something if they are willing to buy his baseless story or ditch class on his expense.
Jan then does his shopping, grabbing a decent bra, hoodie, and new shoes, concluding this trip with a visit to a café where Sebastian rightly point out how erratic Jan’s behavior is. Jan, in response to being asked for some proof to back up his story… sprays Sebastian’s coffee over his shirt. I would tell you why he does this, but the reason is opaque in the English translation. Jan asks to change the subject, talks about how his friends are observing him, and then tests Sebastian’s reflexes by smacking his coffee cup with both hands.
Sebastian does not blow up at him for this— though he should, because what the fuck, Jan? But after some more… verbal sparring, Jan realizes how he looks to his friends. Like a damn loon. Jan then panics as he realizes he’s screwing up this delicate situation and storms off for six pages before Phillip and Sebastian catch up to him. Sebastian chastises Jan for being, well, a pain in the ass, but he cannot just leave Jan and leave this mystery unsolved, so he decides to drive the trio off to Jan’s house in the suburbs.
Here, Jan has every opportunity to sit his friends down and explain what exactly happened, examine the scene of his transformation, but, again, he doesn’t. He keeps acting like a crazy person. Highlighting the trail of blood leading to his bathroom— which he never cleans. Showing off the cut on his wrist. And asking his friends for help replacing the lightbulb he refused to change before leaving. Sebastian is not having any of this, standing around, not touching anything, and after getting acosted by Jan, decides to pepper spray him.
The loss of sight is enough to send Jan into another dream sequence. One where he is pelted by strips of cloth as he walks along a trail of blood, looking at Chicky in the distance as he screams, the sounds of clanking just barely present in the background.
…Then Jan wakes up, has another combative verbal scuffle with Phillip and Sebastian, striking Sebastian, grabbing Phillip, and making himself look crazy before Sebastian gets sick of his shit— again— and knocks him out. Not to belittle the frustration Jot is trying to capture here, but back and forth like this really does bog down the pacing of the story. Scenes like this extend conflicts while adding very little, and are precisely the type of thing you can avoid when you plan out a story and know where you are going. It does not dramatically impact the reading experience. It’s just ten pages of comic. But it definitely makes it harder to summarize what happened and why it was important.
Jan wakes up— again— tied to a chair. Sebastian is gone, Phillip is looking after him, and Phillip tries his best to reason with Jan. Pointedly saying “your behavior is totally irrational and you always go mad. I am even a bit scared of you.” To which Jan says “if you don’t free me right now, you sure will have to be scared of me.” Again, making himself seem like a psycho, when all Phillip and Sebastian want to do at this point is send him to the police. Because this is BEYOND them.
With his options limited, Jan offers to strip for Phillip if he lets him go, and Phillip… agrees for some reason. It’s clearly a ruse. Jan immediately postures at a knife set when he’s freed, and Phillip, like a chump, lets Jan tie him out, while Jan asks for his forgiveness before running away. Meaning Jan is on the road— again— biking through the snow with no clear destination in mind beyond anywhere but here.
Part 4: Roundabout Road Hopping
At this point in the showcase, I just finished chapter 20 of 33, and for the next three chapters, precious little is accomplished. Jan bikes down an unpaved road that had not been serviced for winter and crashes his bike, spurring a pretend conversation between Jan and Chicky. Jan tries to blame others for his shitty decision making, when he needs to be held responsible for what he does. Going in circles with no clear goal other than to vent and/or win an argument.
This is followed by a second encounter with the priest from chapter 6, who takes Jan on an incredibly scenic ride through the B-73, capturing the colors and urban beauty of a winter evening marvelously. The priest tries to tell Jan something, using the fact his brother is getting married as an analogy of some sort, but neither Jan nor I pick up on the subtext.
Once the priest leaves Jan, he lies in wait for someone to drop off Phillip, and immediately goes to him. Phillip, being a kind guy— and hungry for some crazy boy-girl pussy— lets Jan in. What follows is over 15 pages of arguments, a physical altercation, and Jan being Jan as he overthinks a situation, makes things awkward, and ultimately thanking Phillip for believing in him, and for calling him Jan. In fact, Jan is so happy that Phillip sort of accepts him that he’s willing to go to the police station, if they can go together.
Yes, yes, the roundabout process that Jan goes about things is very much the point. It illustrates that he is panicking, indecisive, and unable to formulate a plan of actions. When reading it, the chaos works, it is effective, it is appropriate. But it’s hard for me to justify segments like this as truly additive, when one could just revise some of the dialogue, cut maybe 100 pages, and make for a stronger, more consistent story.
Anyway, Jan finally arrives at the police station to get the story rolling again— immediately makes an ass out of himself by saying that there has been a “sexual identity robbery” before Phillip wisely takes it from here, as Jan is not a reliable narrator. Not in the sense that he makes embellishments, but in the sense you can’t rely on him to narrate without getting distracted.
After being directed into the office of an unnamed police officer, Phillip begins telling the story from his perspective, while Jan… dozes off. Which makes sense, I’d imagine that it’s very late, and he has had a long day. Sleep naturally means dreams, and as Jan dreams, he finds himself covered in strips of cloth, bound to an office chair in a world of harsh lights and darkness. He is able to escape his restraints, but as he does a locked door opens, revealing… oh, how do describe these unnamed things.
From here on out, Jan’s dreams have a recurring antagonist in the form of vaguely detailed humanoids that look to be made of paper, all wearing sad expressions, carrying bowls and forks, clattering them together to make a foreboding noise. It’s a simple, almost childish image, but there is also something twisted and wrong about them. The way they move, disobeying the rules or reality, squishing and stretching their ethereal dream bodies, while being genuine threats. Case in point, as they appear, they begin stabbing Jan with their forks licking up his blood with their tongues, relentlessly pricking him as a pool of blood envelops his body, ignoring his screams, and only stopping when giant Chicky barges in to save him.
As I said, the dreams here are open to interpretation, and I don’t know what these… forkmen? Forkmen it is! I don’t know exactly what these forkmen are meant to be. The sheer uncanniness that comes with their appearance and the pain they inflict make them a credible threat and an imposing mystery throughout the story. What their true nature, why are they here, and how do they tie into Jan’s transformation?
This dream comes to an end as Jan wakes up in an ambulance as a medical worker shines a light into his eyes. Jan only really comes to when in the hospital, where the police officer explains that he collapsed in his office and began bleeding from his eyes. How? Why? Well, the doctors give Jan a scan to search for any tumors that may have caused it, but they’re stumped. He just suddenly bled for no reason, and they want to keep him for the night to monitor any activity. A fair enough compromise… except the officer did not pick up Jan’s bag, meaning he needs to go a night without Chicky.
But before that, there is some scheduling logistics to explain. When talking to the officer, Jan, apropos of nothing, says that he has a 9 AM appointment with someone, somewhere, and will need to be discharged in the morning to make it. The officer, in turn, schedules a 1 PM appointment with Jan, so the officer and a psychologist, or “psychologic” can pry Jan’s brain a bit and get some valuable information out of him. Keep this in mind for later.
The night itself is an exercise in Jan staying awake as he fears the forkmen would come attack him in his sleep. He slaps himself awake, muses in fear as he sits in his bed, and even breaks a glass with the intention of stabbing himself to keep himself awake… before deciding against self-harming inside a damn hospital.
Instead, he decides to call Phillip— at 2 AM— and ask him to pick him up, bring his bag, and take him to this mysterious 9 AM appointment. Phillip tries to give him some pushback, but he ultimately relents, promising to visit Jan in a few hours. Then, with six hours to kill, Jan thinks about Phillip. How he has been the only person who stood by his side as he shoved everybody else away. How he was willing to call him Jan, even if he did not fully believe his story. …And this makes Jan aroused.
Yep, as I said, Jan is a confused bisexual TSF protagonist and the thought of Phillip, of doing censor-worthy things with him, is enough to inspire Jan to masturbate. Jilling off, showering away the shame, and musing over what he did is enough to kill six hours. Phillip arrives, Jan is discharged, and the two set off for Jan’s appointment… with the fashion designer.
Uh, Jan, the meeting with her was a day ago, and at 4:30 PM, not 9:00 AM. Why would you even think she would be available or willing to see you? Seriously, this is never explained and comes across as a hasty way to fulfill a teased plot thread from earlier in the story. I would not really mind, but there is no effort put in justifying this decision, as Jan had not mentioned the fashion designer for over 200 pages at this point.
Part 5: Tough Flash
After some car bickering and working out some logistics, Jan arrives at the fashion designer’s mansion, where the designer is surprisingly not bothered by the surprise visit. Ultimately explaining that because Jan was her preferred pick for this shoot, she will give him another chance. Her stylist gets him all gussied up, pampering and prettying up Jan… in a move that would honestly be more impactful if Jan hadn’t tried doing his own makeup earlier in this story.
In the end, Jan is dressed in a tight top and skirt combo with exposed cleavage, midriff, and hips along with black arm-length gloves and leggings. Very showy, very feminine clothing. I actually really like this section, and scenes like this, in the context of a TSF story. It is the character crossing the gender Rubicon and embracing their new body in a way that may shatter them. This should be a big moment for Jan, who has been dressing pretty androgynously up to this point, as this is discarding or repressing part of this identity.
One of the greater thematic through lines in She is Me can be found in the title. The protagonist is constantly trying to prove to others that he is who he says he is. That he is not a woman, that he is not crazy, that he is a man who underwent something inexplicable that denied him his very sense of identity. For Jan, being objectified, being treated like a product, a piece of meat, by a woman who he wants to fuck should be a dissociating, emasculating, and painful experience that furthers him from his true self. In her hands, he ceases to be himself, and becomes she.
Yet, the comic does not really do that. Jan’s dissociation with his body is a persistent undercurrent, and while the story is not great at spelling out his discomfort, the components are all there. He is shorter, has a softer voice, is weaker in general, and by losing these things he relied upon, he is less stable, less confident, and more combative. He probably lost 20 centimeters and 20 kilograms, so he’s acting like a short tough guy. Talking shit and hitting people when they are down. Because he does not know how to navigate the world at this disadvantage.
From that perspective, Jan should be greatly demoralized by this. By being dressed up as a doll and forced to pose in a fashion shoot, fully denied of his autonomy. Except he is not overtly concerned about that. Instead, he’s more concerned about Chicky.
While getting changed, Jan thinks about Chicky, how he cannot hear Chicky and begins believing that Chicky is mad at him, for some reason. Yes, he is being ‘neglected’ while Jan is doing this, while he is working, but Chicky was never presented as a needy figure, so the choice to fixate on this now feels… strange.
The next chapter— chapter 28— Jan’s worries transition further to more logistical concerns, as Jan is ‘nobody.’ He has no ID, no passport, and would be unable to travel with the fashion designer even if he does choose to pursue this new opportunity. All while withstanding flash after flash as she snaps her photos. Valid concerns, but why is this the best or most natural time for Jan to worry about these things? Why shouldn’t he be more concerned about the objectification, the dysphoria, or the constant flashing, as it plays into Jan’s fear of the dark?
Following some coaxing from the fashion designer, the lights are turned off and Jan is able to see a familiar vision from his dreams. A giant Chicky lying in a white landscape, a trail of blood painting a path to him, the clattering indicating the forkmen are near. Jan feels the need to rush in and protect Chicky as Chicky had protected him, yet the fashion designer keeps positioning him, denying his autonomy as he looks at the vision through an obscured lens. Only as she takes her final photo, as the flash lights up the room, does Jan see what is happening.
The forkmen are brutally assaulting Chicky. His screams may be silent, yet his pain is as plain as can be.
Jan chooses to take the blame for what happened to Chicky, but before he can comfort his sharky friend, the fashion designer ends their session, comforting Jan in a reassuring hug… before he collapses, falling asleep. His dream is surprisingly clam. Him, in his female body, dressed in strips of cloth as he wanders the white void, following a trail of blood and the smell of the ocean, before waking up several hours later, at 1:45 PM. Jan is pissed that he misses his meeting and gets ready to leave the fashion designer’s home, only for her to say she donated his clothes to the Red Cross.
She tossed away Jan’s ‘guy clothes’ and he is now forced to dress like a woman by raiding a fashion designer’s closet. Jan ultimately decides on a form-fitting sweater tunic and black leggings along with the jacket from the photo shoot. The designer compensates Jan, granting him a hefty sum of cash to sweeten their relationship, but Jan refuses to take this opportunity to make a new life for himself. He takes the money, a set of clothes, his bag, and storms off. Not giving the designer a name, address, phone number, or email.
With this first appointment behind him, Jan storms away, pulling Chicky out of his bag and trying to talk to him… but the shark plush says nothing.
Part 6: Jan FINALLY Talks to the Cops
After hopping on a train, Jan finally arrives at the police station and sits down with the officer and a police psychologist to tell his side of the story. He brushes past what happened the past few days and instead talks about Chicky. How he has been protecting Jan in his dreams ever since he transformed into a girl. How he fears he will not be able to wake up next time he falls asleep. And how his fear does not actually stem from the darkness itself, but rather the contrast between darkness and bright lights.
So when Jan freaked out in the classroom during the presentations, he was actually freaking out from the contrast of light and darkness. Okay? That’s a strange thing to be distressed over, but I guess I can see that being a trigger of fear.
Jan tries to explain things further, describing the white skyless void he experiences when he sleeps, the sound of the forkmen as they clank against their bowls. However, Jan gets a bit too invested in his summary, standing up on the desk as he becomes lost in this vision, before collapsing. The police catch him, but as they lay him on the floor, he begins bleeding from the mouth and stops breathing.
Following this latest episode, Jan wakes up in the hospital and is greeted by the main officer he was dealing with, who says that the police don’t know what to do with Jan. They can’t let him run around unattended, as he nearly died just hours ago. He won’t talk unless he gets his way and what he wants, and he wants to visit his old flat. So, the officer— and a police commissioner— both agree to escort Jan back to his flat, to examine the scene and listen to whatever he has to say.
They start the dialogue in the car, saying that the psychologist from earlier believes Jan is under a form of “self-hypnosis” and the source of his injuries is psychological— his mind telling his body to bleed or stop breathing. The psychologist wants to try to hypnotize Jan in order to combat this self-hypnosis, but Jan refuses the offer, wanting to keep his mind free from outside influences.
At the flat, Jan tries to wait around for the lightbulb in his bedroom to explode, buying time by tearing things apart and making provocative comments to the officer and commissioner. After an hour, the bub finally goes out and Jan stares into the empty socket, hoping for some answer, for some reason, only to be met with nothing. He explains that the exploding bulb was a frustration of his the past week… and then Jan decides to cut open Chicky.
Yeah, I don’t know why Jan does this. Jan just looks at Chicky, looks at his scalpel, and then decides to combine the two things. Like a damn adventure game protagonist trying to find the next event trigger. Jan says that he thought that Chicky was already dead, but why would that be justification to cut him open like this?
Point is, Jan cut Chicky open, and immediately regrets this decision. Jan blames the forkmen for ‘taking him in’ and manipulating him to kill his protector. …Before reasoning that the dreams were not happening in chronological order.
…What?
How the hell does that make sense? Jan was having abstract premonitions of future dreams, based upon actions he knew he was going to eventually take in the real world? Seriously?
Okay, okay, I have a theory on what is going on here, but it can wait until the story is over and it’s time to reflect. For now, I’m going to write this off as Jan trying to make sense of his actions, a defense mechanism meant to preserve his sense of self and absolve him of his actions. And I feel confident in that reading, because Jan does that immediately at the start of the penultimate chapter, chapter 32. Where Jan is staying silent while in the police car, blaming the officer for not taking the scalpel out of his hand.
Jan is done talking to the police, refuses to acknowledge that they want to help him, and with their hands tied, the police officer leaves Jan alone in his hospital room. Once alone, Jan begins writing a message on his tampon box for the officer, and then just walks out. With nobody stopping him, and no check out procedure. He leaves to take care of some unfinished business, knowing that tonight… will be his last night.
Part 7: The Last Night
After leaving the hospital, Jan calls up Phillip on a payphone, asking to pick up his bike from the basement. He ultimately lets Jan in, but Jan feels that he has unfinished business with Phillip. …Business that makes his nipples erect. As I keep saying, Jan is a confused bisexual TSF protagonist. He needs some help and comfort, but also has growing unaddressed sexual desires that, somehow, power through everything else going on in his life.
Phillip lets Jan into his flat, offering him the opportunity to spend the night, trying to get him to sleep in his parents’ room. A fair compromise, but Jan wants protection from the forkmen haunting his waking hours, and tries to convince Phillip to let him stay in his room. Phillip is more perplexed by this suggestion, trying to give Jan comfortable sleeping arrangements until Jan explodes in a fit of rage, wishing that he could just strip and fuck Phillip then and there, but lacking the confidence of a “crazy fashion bitch.”
So Jan does what he’s best at— flip out at someone who cannot understand his situation because he has not explained anything. He just goes off. Jan assumes that he knows what Phillip is thinking. Actively tries to get Phillip to think that he’s a psychopath who kills and impersonates other people. And after Phillip takes a seat, per Jan’s instruction, Jan starts coming onto Phillip. Pressing his tits into his face, chastising him for his love life, taking off his bra, and giving Phillip a handjob.
If that confuses you… you’re not alone, buddy. Jan’s behavior has always been erratic, angry, and pissy in a way that makes them had to believe even in the best of times. But here? I think Jan realizes that he is in grave danger, wants to end his life on a high note— getting laid— and to spend the night in the same bed as someone for his own protection. But if that is the case, just take the direct approach, you dense-headed bastard. Sag dem Mann einfach: ‘Ich will dich ficken.’
Despite his best efforts, things go awry when Phillip busts in Jan’s hand after a few seconds. (Because he’s a minute man with a thing for crazy chicks.) Phillip runs away to relieve himself and when he comes back, Jan snarkily says that he’s not in the mood, choosing to slum it up on the living room sofa, asking himself “what the fuck did I do?!” Your guess is as good as mine, dude.
Predictably, this goes poorly for Jan as, once he goes to sleep with Chicky on his chest, the forkmen arrive, turning into ghostly figures that slink into Jan’s eyes, causing bleeding in the process. Once inside Jan, the forkmen venture through the door to a dark room, seeing Jan bound on a chair. But as they turn on the light, they only find a dummy, with Jan sitting atop a tower of bricks, snapping his fingers to bind the forkmen.
Jan has, somehow, managed to lucid dream. He is in control and swiftly incinerates all but one of the forkmen. The lone survivor looks on at Jan in horror as he monologues, demanding answers. Why him? Why transform him like this? Was this deliberate? An accident? The forkman does not speak, and when Jan frees him, he begs, licking the blood dripping from his body before Jan grabs the forkman’s fork and starts stabbing him.
This seems like the end. Jan has finally defeated his demons. But as he looks at the forkman in a pool of water that appeared (remember, it’s a dream) he sees the forkman smile. This breaks the illusion, causing Jan to jump back to reality, where he is holding a fork over Phillip’s bloodied body.
Jan panics, rejecting this reality, but as he screams, he is greeted by a squad of forkmen, dogpiling him and eager to stab him to death. Jan somehow manages to escape, and runs through the halls of this apartment complex, the forkmen giving chase.
However, rather than follow Jan, we then see Phillip waking up, dazed but unharmed, where the police officer calls him. Phillip explains that Jan ran away just a moment ago, and mentions that the officer near his flat, he may be able to catch her. However, the officer goes silent. On the next page, we see why.
The officer is sat in his car, phone in hand, moments after hitting Jan, whose bloodied body is splayed across the street.
Das Ende.
Tangent 2: What The Fuck Was That?
…So, you might be wondering what the fuck was that ending? It comes out of nowhere and offers zero closure. There is no resolution, no answer, no satisfying ending, because… there couldn’t be.
Jan was living through endless chaos for days on end. He clearly had mental issues, issues exasperated by the transformation, and after trying and fighting so much for so long and failing to get the help or support he needed. He finally lost his last connection and ran away into the night, unable to see the world around him. Or… maybe he wanted this. To kill oneself with a knife or shard of glass is scary. But to run out into the street? It’s more lethal, and if you’re ‘lucky,’ faster.
This might seem like a questionable or contentious ending for a TSF story. But despite being a goal of his early on, the story was never truly about Jan trying to find out why this happened to him or how to get back to normal. Because before any of that, he needed to find stability, acceptance, and a modicum of peace. All things that he could not find. Instead, the story is more about dealing with the unexplained and fantastical, the mundane yet deeply impactful ramifications that can follow with an unwanted change of sex. And how this transformation compounds with pre-existing mental issues.
She is Me is the story of someone with mental issues trying to deal with an unexplainable situation, struggling to find connection and sympathy, and ultimately killing themself.
It might seem empty, frustrating, or just like a bad story on an ‘objective’ level. Yet I find it to have a sense of realism and earnestness that few creators would be willing to pursue. So many people go through life, searching for answers, leading lives constructed from struggles, and then just die. By their own hands, by poor health, or by doing something reckless like running out into the road at night. This happens every day. Probably hundreds of times every day. It’s a shame, a failure of society, support networks, and human biology. But… it’s reality all the same.
So why did Jan turn into a girl? I don’t know. Nobody does. And with their death, nobody ever will. The case is shut, closed, and the missing person report for this eccentric orphan will remain open for years before being unceremoniously closed. There’s no glorious mystery, no transdimensional tomfoolery, just one confused, angry, and mentally unwell person who needed a type of help that the world could not provide.
I also want to comment on the dreams, as in writing this showcase, I came up with a theory on what they represent. My theory is that the dreams are indeed connected and slot together as part of a disorganized single chronology. That Jan woke up in darkness, pressed a button, unleashed the forkmen who began stabbing him, only for Chicky to save him. Then Jan wanders the white wasteland, covered in bandages, following a trail of blood, approaching Chicky as the forkmen stab him, ultimately killing him, leaving Jan to fend off the forkmen on his own. That much adds up, that much makes sense. Well, as much as jumbled dream logic can make sense.
Okay, then… what are the forkmen? What do they represent? Well, they are not some supernatural entity, as much as a representation of Jan and his own violent tendencies. In the dream, the forkmen stabbed Jan, before Chicky saved Jan. In the real world, Jan stabbed his wrist and Chicky was there as Jan’s companion. The mapping of these things is not exact, but this is a dream, things are not always as direct or clear as they ought to be.
So, what do the forkmen currently represent near the end of the story? The ones Jan saw outside of his dreams, as figures looking down at him from outside windows or approaching him on the street? Well, they represent his self-loathing, despair, his desire to be free from the confusion, hurt, and agony of what follows this transformation. He does not want to hurt himself, but when people are consumed by despair, their desires don’t matter. All it takes is a stray facet of the mind to take control and start slicing.
Some people are one unexplained event away from losing their sense of self, from their system to come crashing down, and while the trigger for this can be anything— a lost loved one, a change in medication, a painful accident, anything traumatic— for Jan, it was turning into a girl. Losing his body, his outward sense of self, and everything that he took for granted.
Conclusion
One of the limitations of these TSF Showcases is that I’m trying to go through everything a story does in one go, capturing every key moment, but I cannot really do that with a work like She is Me, as so much of its identity is found through the silence, through the quiet, the vivid wide shots and careful use of colors. It’s a slowburn type of story that is best enjoyed over a longer stretch of time, rather than just blazed through, as when going through it more directly, its shortcomings are more evident.
More than being a slowburn though, I would say She is Me is a messy story. Partially through intention. Partially as a reflection of its creator. And partially due to inexperience. Its protagonist is erratic, angry, and pissy in a way that makes them had to believe even in the best of times. Acting like a crazy person while in a crazy scenario, and making for a frustrating protagonist to follow, but one whose struggles, pain, and desire to achieve stability make them too compelling to abandon.
Its storytelling is hit with regular roadblocks that interrupt its flow, staggering out revelations and general progress in a way that can be tedious. Its bold lack of a definitive and satisfying conclusion can be frustrating or come off as a cop-out. However, I still find there to be no shortage of things to love about the story in its realness, rawness, and dedication to not abide by expected narrative progression, to simply be a story of someone’s life collapsing.
It is unique, striking, and having re-read it in full for the first time over a decade, I was taken aback to how much it influenced me over the years. As a writer, I try to wear my influences on my sleeves and am happy to cite when and where I was inspired by various creations, but She is Me is one that slipped through the cracks, despite having laid some of my creative bedrock.
She is Me was a creative spark behind much of my second novel, The Dominance of Abigale Quinlan (2016). The distrust, violence, frigid urban setting, psychological torment across both the waking and dream world, and inability to find support from anyone that one is who they say they are.
It even influenced me recently, being an unintended inspiration with TSF Series #018: Dæmon;Heäd (2023). The idea of a TSF transformation destroying a protagonist’s mental health. The search for death as an escape from the pain that has consumed daily life. And the cold hard fact that, sometimes, reality says that you should not exist.
She is Me is not the only story to do these things, and not the first. But it’s the one that I read at an influential age and the one stuck with me, burying its influences so deep within me that I forgot where they even came from. It’s messy, frantic, unfocused, and is often bereft of a necessary clarity. But I still love it. I love its earnestness. I admire its messiness and resistance to telling a straightforward narrative. And I love it for its boldness to use the framework of TSF to tell a unique and personal story that broadens what the genre can be.
I like the look of the art and layout and the messiness sounds interesting – I’ve started downloading the chapters to read this!
Hooray~! I’m always happy to see people check out obscure oddities like this.
I’ve been liking it so far! Even knowing the bummer note it ends on.
Pre-Blåhaj, which is interesting.