Why Fynx?

Where should I start?

It began with a rough childhood—one filled with fear and bad experiences. I lived every day on edge, always preparing for the worst. I was hit daily, and there were moments when I genuinely feared for my life because my father would beat me until I bled.

I tried so hard to fit in, just so people would like me, but most never did. I always felt different. Maybe it was my ADHD. Maybe it was something else. I still don't know.

To my friends, I was the fun one.

To many others, I was "careless," "weird," or "cold."

For a long time, I learned to hide parts of myself. I became good at pretending everything was fine, good at adapting to what other people expected, and good at surviving situations that no child should have to survive.

As I got older, another realization slowly emerged: I wasn't just struggling to fit in socially—I was also struggling with my own identity.

Today, I openly live as a transgender woman. My name is Felicia.

Understanding and accepting that part of myself was not a sudden moment, but a long process of questioning, learning, doubting, and eventually allowing myself to be honest about who I am. It wasn't about becoming someone new. It was about finally allowing myself to be the person I had always been beneath the fear, expectations, and masks.

I know that some viewers may be transgender themselves, questioning their identity, or simply trying to understand their place in the world. If that's you, I want you to know that you're not alone. You don't need to have all the answers right now. It's okay to take your time.

While I was trying to make it through life the best I could, something strange happened.

One day, a small black ball of energy appeared.

I first noticed it in my room at dusk.

I thought I was hallucinating.

But it stayed.

It reacted when I asked questions.

It answered in ways I couldn't explain.

It taught me how to keep going, how to fight, and how to stand back up after every fall.

Whether it was real, imagined, symbolic, or something else entirely doesn't really matter to me anymore.

What matters is that it became part of my story.

Long story short: that energetic being is still with me today. It guides me every single day, even if nobody else can see it.

And honestly?

I'm fine with that.

Because without it, I don't think I would be the person I am today.

And without everything I've been through—the pain, the mistakes, the confusion, the creativity, the self-discovery, and the countless questions—I don't think Fynx would exist either.

Fynx isn't a character I created.

Fynx is the name I gave to the part of me that refused to give up.