searching-for-synpathy

[searching-for-synpathy]

Coffee thoughts on the last morning of my little vermont vacation with my mom/stepdad/siblings. I am the first and only one who has gotten up. My train is in an hour or so.

It’s been really nice. I like seeing my family, even though it’s always difficult at times. We seem to be able to get past it now, the siblings at least.

Things with my mom are…fine, but I can also feel us growing more distant. Well, maybe I should say that I can feel myself putting on more armor, biting back words more often, censoring myself almost all the time. My mom always get a little martyr-y and holier-than-thou once in a while but I guess as I’m growing into more of an adult it becomes less a force against which to form my own selfhood as a genuine obstacle to our relationship. My sister still displays truly worrying levels of anxiety over how our mom perceives her. And my mom is mean to her sometimes! In small ways, but still! No wonder my sister is so messed up. I just couldn’t see it before. I think because I’ve struck out on my own in some ways my mom still acts in a manner where she seeks my acceptance. But since my sister never did that, my mom feels too comfortable that my sister will always be seeking her acceptance. Because it’s probably true. And I don’t even know what’s going on between her and my youngest sister, truly. My mom still misgenders her, why, I have no fucking idea.

And this is what I was thinking while making my coffee: my youngest sister has been mostly reticent about her transition, respecting her pronouns and stuff…and after that fashion, I’ve just kept quiet about so many things that I feel certain she wouldn’t understand. She is not very compassionate or empathetic, especially, I think, when her limited viewpoint is challenged. And so none of us ever breathes a word about how my mom hurts us in her little ways. And to turn around and look at it from her perspective, can you really blame her for her behavior? I kind of think she just doesn’t know what’s going on. She doesn’t have that capacity for reflection. If we’re the monsters she made, is she also the monster we made?

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I’m wearing an outfit made almost exclusively of things I bought during my shopping spree this weekend lmao. New jeans and tee from TJMaxx, new burgundy overshirt also from TJmaxx, gold satyr pendant from the street fair. I feel hot ngl

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Oh!! And I can't forget - I had a sacred transgender experience in TJMaxx yesterday. In the dressing room. As soon as I walked in and saw myself in the mirror, I could understand why that bakery employee was maybe-kinda-possibly interested in talking to me. My hair was tousled in this really cute way, and my jaw looked sharp. Every time I turned to grab a shirt, my eyes just kept gravitating to my reflection. I'm more used to avoiding my reflection. I felt like Narcissus. Like such a vain harpy. But I felt so much pleasure in staring at myself, at my face. In the rather bright dressing room lights, features became clear that I never see in the dim yellow bathroom at home. I saw hair that wasn't there before! On my chest, my neck, little singular black hairs - on my jawline and cheeks, more fuzz - I'm sure of it. And I never saw it before, the effects of the testosterone! I was shocked, completely shocked. And afraid of growing hair that I wouldn't like. And, still, pleased with my reflection. As I walked home I pictured from the third-person the face that I saw in the mirror that day, and I can't lie, I felt hot. I felt a little turned on. I'm insane. I'm transgender, I guess.

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When I call him he keeps asking if I've "popped the question" yet lmao. I called him some weeks ago on my way to the Met and we had a long and really pleasant conversation about my anxieties about getting married and having kids in the near future. I began the conversation with "Do you ever regret having kids?" I think he was a bit shocked. Of course the answer was no. He did love having kids, he LOVED when me and my siblings were babies and little kids, so much that he took all four of us to Austin by himself when he and my mom divorced. I think that's why he wants a grandkid now. Aside from the anger issues, he's just has a knack for it. He said he wouldn't change that decision for anything, even though he and my mom split up.

So then I asked about marriage, because, frankly, I don't know if I'm ready to tie myself to one person and risk the stresses of falling out of love, infidelity, fighting, divorce. It's so awful. I know these can all happen in a non-married relationship, too, but with marriage it just seems...heavier. Wronger, maybe? More hurtful? More damaging? All of this of course must stem from my childhood witnessing all that before I could even read.

And my dad was like, that's kinda just the risk you have to take. Everybody knows that risk and takes it because they want to be married. And even if it doesn't work out, that doesn't mean it was the wrong choice or that it was worth nothing. And I think that kinda helped a bit. Because now I know that that risk is never going to go away. It could always happen, marriage or no. But I'm in a relationship anyways, a serious one, and we want to have kids.

I'm still a little nervous about how I don't quite feel much excitement when I think about marriage. I just can't picture it. I can't picture myself feeling happy during it. It's impossible to tell if this has to do with me, my partner, or my visions of having to awkwardly entertain family and acquaintances. Bleghhh. I sometimes wonder if I should go back into therapy to talk about this.

I don't think I want to break up with my partner. There are things that rub on me now, but that's natural, we've been together a while. I still love her, I still want to do everything to make her comfortable, we still laugh together. She's the best companion I could ask for. But sometimes it feels more like a familial love than a passionate love. Maybe that's what marriage simply is - making your partner your family. And I know that there are things in my life that I jump to blame "the relationship" for rather than face the fact that it's my own fault. Like the fact that I stay in so much on weekends. My partner doesn't like to go out and do things much, which can be a bummer. But I can go out myself and have a great time, like I did yesterday. I just fall into a groove of, I think, anxiously working and pleasing my partner when she's here, to the point that a bit of resentment begins to stir for neglecting my own desires, which isn't her fault at all. I fantasize about someone - a friend, even - just coming along and swooping me into their social scene, into fun activities. But that's a fantasy where I don't have to risk anything or do any of the work.

I am good at working. Every weekend - dishes, meal plan, groceries, laundry. Second job. Clean, make dinner, massage. And my partner lightens that a lot, she does. She brings lightness and freshness and silliness to my world that sorely needs it. For my part, I like to believe that I bring a steadiness, healthy cynicism, momentum to try new things, and of course my household labors. But I can't relegate myself to being a helpmaid just because I think that that's my primary worth.

After that call from my dad and my trip through the Met, I walked home in the beautiful summer park thinking that I was so silly for doubting marriage in the first place. It made sense. I was so, so lucky, and forgetting to be grateful for it. Now for some reason the doubts are creeping back in. But I try to remember that feeling.

My dad really really really wants me to knock my girlfriend up with a turkey baster this instant so that he has a better chance of seeing our baby. Most supportive dad of a gay child ever i think?

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Okay lmao after I posted this yesterday I decided to go out and head to the only used bookstore in the area, which is like (coughcough a largeish number) blocks uptown, so I walked along the park to get there and it was soooo beautiful and people were out and I passed by this SEXYYY butch in a bikini top playing frisbee ( :) ) and then got to the bookstore and it was GORGEOUUSSSSS it's right by Columbia so ofc it's got that Columbia student money. But it seriously had so much space and so many sections and enough room to like, tuck yourself into a corner and actually read for a bit? I spend a whole fuckin hour in there istg. My brain felt broken by the end. And then I realized the Hungarian Pastry Shop was nearby and my gf once mentioned it so I headed that way and saw that it was across from this gorgeous cathedral. I went inside and it was so cool but it was like $15 for a "self guided tour" and I had already spent like $45 on the books so I was like maybe another day. I was also hungry so I went to the pastry shop and had a super cute conversation with the super cute lesbian behind the counter. And there was a park across the street so I went there to eat it and read my book for a little bit (Detransition, Baby!). Man the weather was so nice. And then I went to TJMaxx and blew my entire monthly clothing budget on T-shirts PLUS some jeans and a belt, so actually it was pretty worth it to get some useful staples that I'm gonna wear. Yeah, it ended up actually being a very nice day. I should do stuff like that more often....even though it was...expensive. lol. But like, what a nice self-date. I might go hang out at the park again today while the weather is still nice!

Im doing that thing I do when I feel restless and unfulfilled where I try to do like seven things at once and end up just reading reddit for hours and hours :/

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I tried roleplaying with an AI bot on a roleplay chat site last night (because. I am too nervous / inexperienced to try with a real person. and it was available). While I was impressed at the fluency and speed with which it picked up my chosen scenario (baby butch gets targeted by charming, arrogant, sexy older butch at a bar - I know, I know - ), it still somehow ended up...disappointing. Like, it knew exactly the environment I was going for, the personality I was looking for. It came up with funny jabs and sexy taunts. But after a couple rounds of this, the artifice of it was still so clear. It began three separate responses with its character throwing her head back / pounding the bar laughing at whatever dumb facile shit my character had just said. There was no momentum unless I pushed it that way. Anyway, all this to say, I can't see myself 'falling in love' with an AI bot or even using one as a consistent 'writing partner' lmao. I know the people who do believe that they are dating their AI bots are like, mentally ill, but in truth I also thought that I should judge the thing for myself. Yep, that's my review. AI is a good writer, it will probably know exactly the thing you are going for, but something about it is still tangibly empty and artificial. As the insecure roleplayer, you feel comfortable in the knowledge that no human being can judge your creativity or peek into the shaded parts of your brain. Without that risk, though, there's also no adrenaline rush, no giddy anticipation, no real push-and-pull. No game!

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Im doing that thing I do when I feel restless and unfulfilled where I try to do like seven things at once and end up just reading reddit for hours and hours :/

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Doechii lyric bead bracelets :)))

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Woke was almost dead, but then Trump decided to tie even the most banal anti-wokeness with vitriolic fascism and suddenly South Park is back to slamming the american christofascist hegemony. Nice.

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While there were aspects of the writing of TMRW&TMRW&TMRW (im not writing that shit out every time) that made me feel as if the characters were a bit flat, a bit schmaltz- you might even say ersatz- I do think that it paints an incredibly real portrait of growing up as a creative young adult. Not that I would know, personally, but it rings so true that I don’t doubt it. When you’re young, you want to make good things, you doubt yourself; you put 150% into making something; you follow it up, you agonize over the reception, you spiral over criticism; then, the characters get older, and they just…get over it. It becomes work. You make another thing and another thing and it’s not like each thing is the center of the universe anymore. It’s just a neat, new thing. And it fails or breaks even or does well, whatever. That seems quite true to life, at least for the financially stable. A little tender and sad, but ultimately meaningful. The characters lose the intense rush and euphoria of an all-consuming project, but they also shed the crushing sense of defeat, insecurity, and interpersonal tension. And they arrive somewhere peaceful, stable, and nice.

And perhaps Zevin chose not to flesh out Sadie and Sam’s personal relationship so much because she believed these arcs in the work spoke to the state of their relationship more strongly. It is a novel about work after it’s all said and done. Everything I wrote above can be applied to their friendship, too.

Also I fucking looved the chapter about roleplaying. It made me want to get back into it. Fuck yes roleplaying.

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I had a dream last night that at the time I thought would make a really interesting book. Now that I am fully awake I’m not so sure lmao. But basically for some reason I had to seek refuge at this large mansion at night (beauty and the beast style) and the owner of it is this giant butch lesbian who lets me stay there but things get weird like she leaves lesbian p/rn on the TV and such. Eventually we obviously start f/ckin (I don’t explicitly remember this being in my dream though, weirdly) but she has like. An interrogation kink? Honestly in the dream it was supposed to be something like freaky and dark. Like she was pressuring me into this S/M relationship. But out of context “interogation kink” sounds fucking hilarious. And then there was a different butch at some point who i think was like, even worse? Somehow? Maybe they were trying to steal my butch captor’s fortune or smthn idk?

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My dad really really really wants me to knock my girlfriend up with a turkey baster this instant so that he has a better chance of seeing our baby. Most supportive dad of a gay child ever i think?

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At this point Chris Storer just needs to hand the entire writing of The Bear over to Ayo Edebiri i’m serious. It’s cool he gave her the chance to write and direct episodes about the main characters of color but it’s also giving lazy and those episodes do not flow naturally into the chris-storer-directed, shlocky, we-only-care-abt-white-people-now episodes. It feels fragmented and it sucks.

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Given that i have an hour for lunch with two 15s, I could have a serious jerk off session every single day at work if I wanted to.

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Aw my dad said that this is the first birthday he’s been happy about in a long time because instead of being depressed about getting older, he’s glad he’s still alive

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Also, I was walking down the office hall and heard a man say to another “the cruelty is the point.” And i felt only mild curiosity in response. He was probably talking about politics. Would this phrase have been so familiar and banal in the 60s, 80s, 90s? Another piece of proof that we live in a death world.

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I have been feeling better than earlier, keeping myself busier after work, which already keeps me busy. Drawing, reading, starting my tutoring thing. Hung out with Nahia a few times and got inspired (partly by jealousy) to kick myself in the ass to practice drawing again.