My father was martyred by Israel on 10 October 2023 after sacrificing his care in hospital so the injured children could take priority. Today would have been his 60th birthday. He was always selfless, kind, and giving for others. My father gave up everything for me to be able to have a better life, because that is what he always dreamed for me and my sister. The world suffered a great loss when he died, and my heart is always with him and every Palestinian who has lost someone.
In his honour and memory, I would love for anyone who is able to do so to consider donating to The Palestine Children’s Relief Fund.
The PCRF is an amazing organisation that does so much for those in Gaza right now, including helping provide food, water and medicine. You can donate any amount you are able to- there is no minimum! My father would have given his very last cent if he saw the way Palestine was continuing to suffer after over 100 days with this limited aid, so I know celebrating him by helping others is the least he would have wanted.
I saw @parrot-parent do a very successful donation match and I thought it was such a good idea so I will also match all donations up to $500! If you feel comfortable sending me proof of the amount of your donation, I will match it as a donation at the end of February. (My messages are set to mutuals only, but if you donate and we aren’t mutuals if you send an ask with the proof I will make sure to answer it privately.)
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When I was 12 I was going to be married and have two children - Kathryne Elizabeth and David Chase.
When I was 9 my mom told me that when she was pregnant with me and took a bath, I’d roll around in her stomach like a dolphin. The thought made me sick.
When I was 17 I was in love with a boy who was a good childhood friend, and I wanted to marry him so bad I chased him away (we haven’t spoken in 13 years).
When I was 15 I kissed a boy for the first time. We dated for six weeks. I kissed him twice more, and the first time he put his tongue in my mouth I gagged.
When I was 16 I told my best friend that I didn’t understand the big deal about sex. In fact, I thought it was kind of gross. She laughed and told me to grow up.
When I was 6 I licked a boy’s desk in school because I wanted to give him cooties. I thought it was something like chicken pox.
When I was 18 I kissed a girl for the first time and thought “oh”.
When I was 14 my friend stayed the night and wanted to know if I wanted to kiss her. I told her no, because she had a boyfriend. She said it didn’t count because we were girls.
When I was 20 my stepmom told me that she thought asexuals were broken or mentally ill in some way. I stormed off to my bedroom and cried, but I didn’t know what I was crying for.
When I was 18 I had sex with two girls. After it was over I lay by myself at the edge of the bed, cold and hollow inside, and didn’t understand what I was so upset about.
When I was 11 I wanted to be a stay at home mom when I grew up.
When I was 19 I had sex with a guy for the first time. I didn’t hate it, was my first thought. My second was that I needed a shower as fast as possible.
When I was 7 I was hugged by someone and screamed because I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t have the words for it back then.
When I was 20 I had a panic attack before my fiancé came over to visit, because I knew we’d be alone and I knew I couldn’t tell him no.
When I was 20 I told him no and it didn’t matter.
When I was 15 I got caught looking up porn on my dad’s laptop. I got in worse trouble because it was gay porn. “You’re just upset with boys right now, you’ll grow out of it.”
When I was 5 my dad would read parts of the Bible out loud every night. He paid special attention to the parts condemning homosexuality, like he knew somehow even then.
When I was 19 I heard the word asexual for the first time, and dismissed it out of hand.
When I was 25 I cradled it to my heart like a balm.
When I was 20 I decided I was never going to have children.
When I was 19 I thought I was pregnant, and decided to kill myself if I was.
When I was 26 I said the words ‘asexual lesbian’ for the first time to myself, and crawled under the covers to hide.
When I was 28 a friend sent me a comic about aromanticism. I saw all the parts of me that were on display there and decided I wasn’t strong enough to acknowledge it just yet.
When I was 27 I told my friend that the only time I wanted to be married was when I was sick and wanted to be taken care of. The rest of the time the thought terrified me.
When I was 15 I told myself that no one would ever love me.
When I was 29 I decided that I didn’t care.
When I was 13 I thought I knew exactly what my life would be like when I was 30.
When I was 30 I was relieved to have been so wrong.
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