2022 is almost over. I have a lot of words that appear in my head when I think about this year: Surreal, thrilling, traumatic, excess, and so on.

It started with Hereticon, a 'conference for thoughtcrime' hosted by Founders Fund. In addition to extending an invite, FF solicited my opinion on some of the trans-adjacent content. It was my first time in Miami, and I've been wanting to go back ever since.

At the time, Florida was in a COVID surge. I almost didn't go, until a friend urged me. I am exceptionally glad I did, as it was the first once-in-a-lifetime event in a year filled with them.

Taking place at Faena - Miami Beach, our setting couldn't have been more bourgeoisie. Food and drink were provided, and intellectual nourishment was also provided via a list of speakers on some interesting and controversial topics.

I had briefly considered resurrecting myself as an independent journalist to broadcast (with FF permission) some of the talks, but I was taking the week as a vacation, so I decided not to. I regret this a little bit, but also don't because of the experiences I would have missed out on.

I did a writeup on Hereticon right after getting back. The event was the first of many public private events I've been to this year, and my writeups respect that spirit in following a modified form of Chatham House rules. Both the speakers and attendees were Heretics of one form or another, and we were glad to have our own little secluded island for the week. My favourite kind of space to exist in is those that facilitate conversations that can't be had elsewhere: Old Clubhouse was the first (in 2020), and Hereticon certainly followed in its footsteps.

I have to take some words to appreciate Nicole Patrice DeMember. I met her for the first time at Hereticon, and she supported me through the event when I got a bit overwhelmed. She's long been a mentor and a dear friend, and is one of the reasons that my life still feels like a fairytale.

Two events became the public face of Hereticon: Delian Asparouhov getting married to Nadia Eghbal, and a dance party with music courtesy of Grimes. I was around for a little of the first and all of the second. I can't adequately describe how thrilling it was to be dancing directly under Grimes who is from my current city of Vancouver), although I was mostly staring at her deck for the performance because I really couldn't believe it was happening.

There was an open mic segment, and I did 5 minutes on trans issues. I talked about how we need more conversation and less yelling politics at each other. Someone DM'd me on Twitter a short time after Hereticon, and let me know some of their friends had attended and seen my talk. Later, they told me that the talk / my general presence gave them courage in coming out as trans. and hope things would be okay for them. This was the first of several people who spontaneously told me I had helped them in this way, something that has really touched me this year.

Then, there was Vibecamp.

The brainchild of Brooke Bowman, vibecamp prides itself on illegibility. It's some kind of version of Burning Man, an internet meetup, and a lot of other illegible things rolled into one. I had a really good time, despite one of my first experiences with being touched without consent. One of 2022's many juxtapositions.

I don't hold the organizers responsible, humans are humans. They put so much work in and it really showed, I had so many amazing experiences and connections. I organized a theme cabin called Femmehaus, had a group makeup session and gave out face jewels which circulated amongst the attendees for festivities later that evening.

There is, of course, a corresponding entry in the 'Ivy goes to parties' series. I wasn't there for the vibe camp pre-parties, but the post-party was legendary. It's mostly an iykyk situation, the important thing to share is that it was amazingly fun, and one of the highlights of a year where that wicked (in a good way) fairytale I have idly dreamed of in the past came to life.

It was also the first time I got to meet Sonya, another dear friend. Sonya and I have been friends for almost 10 years, and it's been so great to be able to share space with her so many times this year. She's another person who has supported me when I've become overwhelmed and I couldn't be more grateful.

Vibegala was a follow-up event in Berkeley, and my favourite night of the year. Essentially an urban incarnation of Vibecamp, it took place at an opulent 5-story mansion. I ran a harm reduction class there, with a highlight being Brooke and I re-enacting the scene from Pulp Fiction where Mia Wallace is revived. An impromptu flow arts session came together later in the evening with some gala-mates which was some really beautiful serendipity.

I went as Eris (my middle name): Goddess of discord. My golden apple and I became an urban legend of the party. It now sits with my witchy supplies as a reminder of that night of magic that we all shared. The event itself had things familiar and foreign: Aella's 'Descent Into Dance Hell' class, fire spinning, and DJ's. I deepened connections with some, and started new ones with many.

Friends with Benefits is the SoHo House of DAO's, and they were nice enough to gift me a ticket to their inaugural festival, FWBFest. I endured yet more air travel to Idyllwild, California, and was very pleasantly surprised to have my rental car upgraded to a red Dodge Charger. I blasted Kesha as I drove the winding roads to our venue: The Idyllwild Arts Academy.

I stayed at an opulent AirBnB complete with hot tub and fire pit, and treated the excursion as a birthday celebration. My experience was exceptionally mixed, but I am still so grateful to have been there. I was tickled some shade of pink to have a picture of me featured in the Elle magazine article on the event.

I spoke at one of the group sessions that happened at the festival, and was thanked for bringing up issues of adult creators and censorship. I was stared at, and in one instance had an attendee take several steps away from me while waiting for the shuttle to the event.

I internalized what that meant, You are not supposed to be here. I let it ruin Saturday, but was consoled by a friend who had sent me a bottle of Rose for my birthday. I cried, and drank it while luxuriating in the hot tub. Probably my favourite juxtaposition of joy and grief of 2022.

I met another Nicole for the first time at FWBFest, we coincidentally boarded the shuttle to the event at the same time. She's been a frequent presence on many trips to San Francisco and I am similar very glad to be able to call her a friend.

I went to SXSW for the first time, and it was truly amazing. I didn't go to the conference, as many don't, and still had the wildest time. There was the mini-festival put on by Fluffy Cloud. There were the hangs at SoHo House, thanks to my friend Francesca Hogi.

At a mansion party, a social media fan came up to me and said 'Are you Ivy Astrix?'' This happens a lot now. At the Rolling Stone / HER event, SXSW staff asked me to pose for pictures. At Tulsa house, women embraced me in sisterhood. I'm sure I'm forgetting a few things.

I had such a moment of clarity. All those years of being told I was small, and deeply believing it, disappeared in one week. I knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my mentors and benefactors were right. I was destined for more, and deserved it.

Aside from the parties, 2022 saw my coming out story immortalized in print. My friend Amanda Siebert is an amazing journalist, and was kind enough to think of including my story in her new book. Psyched: Seven Cutting-Edge Psychedelics Changing The World contains many stories, the tale of how I came out included.

I don't want to oversell my place in her compendium of psychedeliae, but it's really special to me. That night I describe in the book both changed me and brought me into alignment with who I had always been. I'm in a book!!! I can run my fingers over it, if you search my name in Google Books you will actually get a result! Surreal, just like the rest of this year.

Amanda's book sits next to a watercolour painting a friend did for me all the way back in 2013. She goes by Violette Torrance now, and was the very first person I came out to. I really treasure that painting more than anything.

Then there was the Denizen retreat. The second one I've been to, hosted by Jenny Stefanotti, it's always an interesting experience. Last year, I was barely out and had been hermiting forever. This year I was better prepared.

I had a vulnerable moment at the retreat, and two women I have endless respect for told me that I come across like Courtney Love. Showing up as her true self, in smeared lipstick and ripped fishnets. So obvious. Yet, I have been struggling to really characterize myself for so long.

The second moment happened with someone completely new, after I had taught her how to use a light whip. She told me that I reminded her of someone else at another retreat. This person referred to themselves as a permissioner. Someone who gives others permission to be their full selves in the default world. Then she sang me a song.

These events made me realize what my most important accomplishments have been this year. The wild parties have obviously been fun, but transitory. Of permanence is that someone heard me talk at Hereticon, and reached out to me via Twitter. They later told me that I gave them courage and hope about coming out as trans.

Another was a young trans person telling me that I was a role model for them. I'm still a bit floored by this fact. I am living a messy human experience, and I do realize how much of a luxury that is. Many trans people can't even exist as themselves. Others do not have the opportunity to tell the default world to go fuck itself when it tries to make them small. I am so, so blessed with both and this year has really made me appreciate what I have.

'What I have' also applies in a very tangible and physical way. I now have tattoos on two arms, my left being more substantial. Starting with an artistic interpretation of SHODAN on my shoulder, it transitions to Ivy vines that wrap around my arm and end just before my fingers. It's beautiful to look at, but to me it's something deeply personal that no one can ever take away from me.

There's symmetry with that and what I see when I look in the mirror now. At times, I saw that person that I never was. Now, I only see Ivy. Yes, some things are not yet gender aligned. They are attributes, however, of a vibrant woman still working her way through becoming.

As 2022 ends, I am coming off my first legitimate fetish party experience. I'm still integrating both, but I felt that thing I haven't felt in a very long time. The feeling of belonging, of home. So exceptionally odd to me, given I'm more on the more trad side of the trans spectrum. Somehow, though..... it's an environment that really brings me into alignment.

During my experience I asked myself, much like I have at other points in the year, 'is this really happening?'. There has been so much juxtaposition this year between those moments of bliss and what felt like equal moments of pain. I mused recently that some people aren't meant to be okay. Like Captain Kirk in Star Trek V, they need their pain. In that time that I exchanged power with someone I deeply trusted, things were okay.

I think I still need my pain, sometimes. A long time ago, someone told me I struck them as one girl against the rest of the world. I am. 2022 showed me how that doesn't mean I'm also one girl, alone. If I truly quiet all the social status background noise, I realize how many people are in my corner.

I also visited New York for the first time, and loved it. I met more digital friends for the first time, saw that city I felt I already knew from years of Law and Order for real. I met Eliza Orlins, both a friend and personal hero. I think New York really convinced me of the value of sharing your true self, I was never at a shortage of people to share my time there with. Most of whom had seen me at my messiest.

Speaking of Law and Order, the writing in the revival season has been really good. In particular, there are two quotes in particular that have stuck out to me:

It's okay to play the hero, Nolan..... as long as you win.

I have an exceptionally strong moral code, probably due to watching a lot of Star Trek : The Next Generation in my younger years as an escape from the environment I was in. If there's something that is Wrong, Actually, I will do what I can to right it. If I know something is the right thing to say, or do, I will.

I've been told by accomplished people that this quality in me greatly impresses them. One person who worked with Aretha Franklin told me that my voice reminds me of her. I was understandably speechless when she said this, and it's one of the things that I keep very close to my heart.

As to the winning part... that's more complicated. Yes, I have 'won' in the immediate sense many times. Sociopaths, however, have long memories and women in particular are talented at putting others down, excluding them from the halls of power, etc. I don't particularly care. No amount of money, power, or agency is enough for me to say or do something I don't believe in.

So really, I think it's always okay to play the hero, even if you lose.

Another Law and Order has really put me at peace with those times that I wasn't able to win:

If you try a good case, if you do it the right way...... then whatever the jury decides, is right. Even if it doesn't feel good. It's the only way I know how to do it, and the only thing that lets me sleep at night.

I've internalized this quote a bit differently:

If you live your life according to your values, if you do things the right way, whatever happens is right. Even if it doesn't feel very good.

Much like ADA Price, it is the only way that I know how to do it. It is absolutely one of the things that lets me sleep at night.

2022 was, however, not all sunshine and rainbows. The tech downturn claimed my livelihood, and for the first time in probably ever, I tasted true desperation. I came very close to having to find out who would part with their own resources if I really needed it, and I would like to avoid that situation ever happening again. I recovered, thankfully. Due to the serendipity in how it happened, I now absolutely believe in a higher power.

Newly empowered, I started travelling again. San Francisco is my favourite destination now, but New York and Sonoma County are close seconds. I met many friends I had never seen before in person; all of those meetings were magical. I went to more opulent parties.

When describing my life to an old Clubhouse friend, she said that it seemed like every time I spoke to her, the tales I told seemed like they were coming from some kind of movie. She's right. Whether Hereticon, Vibecamp, Vibegala, or one of the many other events: I was living the fairytale again.

2022 was the year that I finally accepted all the really wonderful things that were happening to me. It was also the year that the default world did its best to end me. This juxtaposition has convinced me that I am living my best life. A rich, full one. A life of ups and downs that are given to me because I can handle them.

I don't know what 2023 will bring. The FTX debacle is a good thing of the chaotic times in which we live. I may yet taste even more desperation than I did this year. I alternate between being very afraid, and very excited.

The vibes have shifted, and I very much feel the loss of that sea of support I once thought I had. There are various possible reasons, but I think overall humanity's true nature has asserted itself. There's nothing wrong with that, but it is really scary. Especially seeing what happens when a drag queen story hour happens.

I'm honestly not sure where I land on drag queen story hours, but seeing armed white nationalists attempt to intimidate people really scares me. Yes, maybe some trans people have abused the grace they were given. The worst of that does not justify what's happening now.

The revival Law and Order season is bookended with two shots of a New York court building. In the first, we see the phrase 'administration of justice is the firmest pillar of good'. In the latter, we see the full phrase: 'the true administration of justice is the firmest pillar of good government.' I actually got to see this building in person this year.

The words justice and good make me happy and proud. For as long as I am able to, I will try to make the world a just place with the resources that are available to me. Some form of Pierre Trudeau's 'Just Society', perhaps seen through the eyes of a queer Courtney Love. Maybe one day that will involve millions of dollars and people who the world has decided are elite; maybe it will be me standing alone. I'm good with either.

I fully admitted this year that I am not okay, and why. Some people have known, many have suspected, but now it's in my personal artistry of the written word. There is one last, very tangible frontier of trauma I have to master. Unhealthy food was used as a means of control, and that's had some very visible damage. Ironically probably the 'easiest' to fix.

An elliptical machine now sits in my living room, and I'm committed to wielding the same transformative power I have used in other parts of my life on my physical form. Both for first order effects, and so I can get top surgery (complications increase geometrically as BMI does).

For all of the impossible things I've been able to make possible, Aella's poll on bodies doesn't lie. I truly feel like I have reached the fat ceiling, for lack of a better term. I intend to remedy that, and I think things will change as drastically for me as they did after I came out.

As 2022 ends, I know without a doubt who my friends are. Some I talk to daily, some I go months between chatting with. The number is smaller than it used to be, yes, but those relationships are still within me. Like the events during which they formed, they were moments in time. Moments I will forever cherish, but must now take their place in that tome of what came before. No mourning, just immortalizing.

2022 dispensed with a lot of my naïveté. I found out that safe spaces are temporary, if they exist at all. In a game of Askhole long ago during Clubhouse's prime, my answer to 'do you find the world safe or unsafe' was the latter. I've since refined that conclusion to the world being deeply unsafe for people like me.

Thinking about all the people I now call friends, many of them do enjoy relative safety in the world. That they support a relatively messy trans woman means so much. The default world is Bad, Actually but there are some moments of beauty. I feel very lucky to experience them on a consistent basis.

Some people in my circles have reached a certain apex I think I'm still climbing towards. They are in 'actual' celebrity circles, don't have to worry about money to some degree, etc. Comparison robs us of our own progress, but it's also involuntary sometimes. I feel bad, because I feel like I've failed in not also achieving those things.

Having been able to quiet my thoughts recently, I've been able to redirect that comparison where it needs to go. At the worst points of being that girl that everyone tried to make into a boy, I never thought I would have any of this. A year that would fit into a movie script.

The values that mentors have been trying to impart to me for the past few years have finally taken hold. That my voice is powerful, and needed. That there is more, and I deserve it. That the default world can only take things from you if you let it.

As far as feelings go, in 2022 I went from feeling popular to feeling loved. This took a lot of work. Being able to receive that love feels more thrilling than any party I've attended this year.

I've certainly failed at my share of things this year. I had a lot of resistance, in a year where I exceeded so many limitations, to recognizing those that are more real than imagined. I do know now, though, that part of being special means integrating the downsides, as well as all the wonderful advantages.

I can't say for certain what 2023 will bring. I'm looking forward to Bass Coast, Vibecamp, and many other gatherings of exceptional people. I'm really looking forward to further exploring what okay looks like.

More parties would be great, but mostly I'm hoping in 2023 I can make a difference in even more lives, and convince more people they can thrive because they are doing things the right way, and not in spite of that.