It was better than last year, and that’s saying something.

In some ways that was to be expected. I no longer had the first-time jitters, and I had a good idea of how the events were paced. SizeCon 2026 was in the same venue as it was in 2025, and I knew I would see some familiar faces. I was so carefree I didn’t even look at the schedule until I was already aboard the train to Portland.

I also hadn’t looked at the tickets I had downloaded five months previously. If I had, I might have noticed that the PDF included pages for the meal plan for all three days, but nothing about convention admission. It turned out that the ticketing site had a glitch that allowed a user to purchase the meal plan without purchasing admission, and I was one of a few attendees who had accomplished precisely that. Fortunately, TinySuperVicki came to my rescue and put me in touch with Astra Ebonwing, who assured me I was fully registered and could pay for my admission when the con opened Friday morning.

In 2025, I knew a couple of people who were expected to attend and whose photos I had seen online, but otherwise I was essentially attending alone. This time I was part of a crew from Discord who had been anticipating the con for months. It was via the group chat that Vicki learned of my ticketing plight, and as the first day approached everyone’s travel travails were duly documented. I’ve known Vicki since the Tumblr days and I met Kindii, TheTallestMouse, and Eddie at SizeCon 2025, but while the others were for the moment just virtual entities, I knew I would have folks to hang with.

On Friday I ran into Taedis, who I’ve known for years and got to meet last year in person. They introduced me to giantess artist/legend Capp, who was drawing giant women when the Size community was still finding itself in the 80s and 90s. His work has appeared in print media by E.L. Publications and it was waiting for me online where I first discovered I wasn’t the only Size perv on the planet. Capp has recently used GenAI to augment some of his illustrations, and I greedily grabbed the prints available at Taedis’s table and had him sign them.

After last year I resolved to go to more socials and the most rewarding of these were the GIANT/tiny Icebreakers, moderated by Kindii. Participants were divided into up to four small groups and handed a list of twenty Size-related questions. Which question to answer was determined by rolling a giant inflatable d20. The smaller groups allowed for more in-depth discussion of everyone’s answers and thus getting to know each other better. I did the icebreaker each of the three days, so I have three souvenir d20s.

I got to meet another Size celebrity in the person of Codi Vore, who took her performance name from her own fetish. Codi was on three panels: Vore, Model Q&A, and Darkside, and her intelligent and heartfelt contributions improved them all. She also agreed to pose for a couple of giantess vore photos, and now I have to work on my Photoshop skills so I can do them justice when I edit doomed tinies into them.

The talent and passion that Size folk bring to this convention never fails to impress me. From the SizeCon Radio Play (written by Praedatorius, performed by an inspired cast) to the Talent Show to Abigail‘s presentation, I was constantly either grinning or mouth agape as the performers put themselves forth to show everyone what Size meant to them. They obviously loved this community, and the feeling was mutual.

I was delighted to see that RobClassact had made it this year. The convention director last year, Rob fell victim to what is becoming an unwelcome tradition for SizeCon directors and contracted COVID just before convention weekend, so he had to administer from quarantine on the other side of the Columbia River. I have been reading Rob’s stuff for years, including the writing contest Size Riot, and it was a treat to talk with him about the craft. I also got to hear him read his contest-winning story “Common Ground,” and his presentation on how to organize your time and motivate yourself to write was sorely needed.

One concern I had about attending SizeCon a second time was that it might not be as invigorating as it was when I was a first-timer, before I knew the relief of letting my guard down in public. That concern was quickly dispelled by, not only the joy of being reunited with people I met last time, but also the contagious excitement of this year’s first-timers, who in my immediate case were B3ll3 and Bri. Everything they said or did went straight to my heart.

Another first-timer and Size celebrity was Cirilla, who produces a daunting volume of clips depicting tiny figures being dominated by her body in every way imaginable, including POV shots from a small camera inserted into one of her orifices. She had a table with her partner Camera Person, and I finally connected with them on Sunday morning. They let me have one of pile of tiny model railroad figurines they use in their videos—all males by that point—as well as a conveniently small plastic capsule to keep him in. I got him out later at lunch, lamenting that I didn’t get a female tiny to cherish. To my surprise and delight, B3ll3 brought out the female figure she had obtained from Cirilla the day before and offered to swap tinies. I’m still touched by that gesture.

The strongest indication that my comfort level at SizeCon had maxed out was my unexpected enthusiasm for participating in table-top roleplaying games. On Friday evening I saw that TastyAce was running something called Bitty Folk Adventures, a one-page system designed for players to portray tiny characters facing the challenges of a big scary world. I impulsively joined the overcrowded table and thoroughly enjoyed character creation and helping the party, but I didn’t grasp the obvious fact that a TTRPG would almost certainly take up more than one time bloc and I had an obligation during the next hour, so I had to bail out prematurely.

My appetite duly whetted, I consulted the schedule and determined that the upcoming three-hour bloc I could devote to the D&D adventure written by Schretz fell on Sunday afternoon. It was my first time playing D&D specifically since 1983, but I had read up on 5e when it was time to induct my son into the mysteries and Schretz was the most accommodating and resourceful DM I’ve had in recent memory. We didn’t make it as kinky as we might have, but it was still exciting to see everyone gleefully changing size at the slightest opportunity.

Last year when I was attending SizeCon alone, I had to take a few breaks from the social over-stimulation by retreating to my room for 30-60 minutes. This year I instead found myself repeatedly wandering back to the table shared by Vicki and Lil showing their wonderful creations for a bit of downtime and to trade stories of conventions past. It was quiet moments like these and those in the meal hall where all these new experiences are processed into precious shared memories. Conventions don’t fully happen until such moments of reflection, and I couldn’t do without them.

The closing ceremony was as emotionally fraught as I (and most SizeCon veterans) had expected. Listening to the staff thank everyone for their contributions and assistance, I was reminded that this event and these people hold not only immense personal significance to the organizers and volunteers but also that SizeCon and similar gatherings have important political meaning. Last year we were scarcely a month into the current fascist regime and we had yet to see the full depth of its depraved cruelty. This year the largest No Kings march to date fell on the Saturday of the con, and it was vital to be reminded that every act of creativity, particularly kink art, is also a protest against those who would eliminate us.

I’m told that the practice of giving everyone a chance to go up to the microphone and speak about what the con meant to them only really became a major component of the closing ceremonies starting with 2025. The queue was longer than last year’s, and when the staff had to shut the event down at 9pm there were still people waiting to give their testimonies. There were tears aplenty, but I was most affected by Bri describing all the revelations she had and what she learned about herself during the con. I was not a little envious that she had made these discoveries and was already starting to accept them at such a young age.

Notably, despite all the perfectly reasonable reasons for people not to cross the US border or even just travel through American airports, SizeCon 2026’s attendance (slightly) surpassed that of 2025. Missing but not forgotten this year were fellow writers Aborigen and SolomonG. Jitensha and Chibiana couldn’t attend because they are each expecting a child (Sergio and Giant Gripper, accordingly, remained with their partners).

SizeCon 2027 will be at the same venue, so of course I’ll be there. I hope to see many of my old and new friends again, but it will also be someone’s first SizeCon, and I wouldn’t want to miss that.