#how to guilt trip my mom into letting me medically transition

[noiivvern]

I need to get top surgery or make a fursuit

[thrashkink-coven]

someone asked if I live with my parents, in regards to how I have such a large altar, and how they might feel ab it. I was working on a long post ab it but then it vanished into the stratosphere so idk what that was ab or where it went.

But to answer the question, making an incredibly long story short, I do not live with my parents, I live with my partner and a couple roommates.

Tea time :) ☕️ Hot piping tea time besties!!! 🤩

My mom used to be somewhat accepting of my transition and identity. She helped me in the medical care system and even got me testosterone (although she always seemed a bit iffy). However after she met her current partner that all fell apart. He is extremely, and I mean EXTREMELY Christian and extremely controlling. This man burned my bfs hoodie because it had a sigil on it. He red faced SCREAMED (and I mean SCREAMED) in my face that I was going to hell for being trans, that I was disgusting and that he didn’t want me anywhere near his kids. After which, my ✨mother✨ blamed me for pushing his buttons too much (by being trans) and told me she would no longer support my transition. She told me that she would rather burry me in the ground in the event that I lost my life to suicide than deal with having a trans kid. I will never forget that.

That was during the first lockdown at the height of the pandemic, so I was trapped in that house and it was torture. When I say that man is extremely Christian and conservative, I mean it. He forced me and his kids to watch religious videos every Saturday, which were basically just dudes screaming at you that you’ll go to hell if you sin over stock footage of clouds. He would try to guilt trip me for not wanting to participate. (Not to mention he contributed very heavily to my eating disorder by trying to force us all to be vegan and taking away all of my safe foods, despite cooking steaks for himself every night. If I could use one word to describe that man it would be “Hypocrite”. I was constantly anxious and starving, holy shit I could write an entire book about how terrible living in that house with that man was and how betrayed I felt by my mom for putting me through that)

The last straw for my mom was when I expressed to my gender therapists that I really want and need top surgery. She acted like I was springing it on her out of nowhere despite us having conversations about it since I was 14. She told me that I would not be recovering from that surgery under her roof and that it would upset her partner too much. Soon she started making little comments about how disgusted she was in the changes testosterone was giving me, how my voice was getting deeper and how I was gaining muscle, and I became terrified that she would try to force me to detransition.

For me, the final straw was after me and my mom had an argument about money (she took it from my bank account without asking and got mad when I asked for it back) as punishment she decided that I would start having to pay rent for my room in the house. I told her that I would not be paying to live somewhere where I cannot feel safe being myself or bringing my partner around. She told me to either get over it or pay up.

As soon as I turned 18 I started looking into programs in my school that help young queer people who are facing potential homelessness find housing. My mother never explicitly kicked me out (she’ll still say that to this day) but she made it impossible for me to stay. I do believe that her partner was actively trying to systematically get me and my older brother out of the house so he could further isolate my mom. He was the one that told my mom that I was manipulating her into “letting me be trans” by pretending to be suicidal. Yeah. Seriously. And to be honest, it’s fucked up and sad but I also see my mom as a victim due to some other things I won’t mention here (when I say controlling I mean CONTROLLING) But the abuse she went through does not justify her role as my abuser. As much empathy and understanding I have as to why she acted the way she did, I still don’t accept that behaviour. Constantly hearing about how you’re an abomination and how God will surely destroy you starts to take a toll after a while, especially when you’re not allowed to leave the house.

Through my efforts I landed a job but I still didn’t have enough money for even the smallest bachelor pads.

One night after having an extreme meltdown I just… ran away. I went to my bfs house because I didn’t know where else to go, but I was fully prepared to walk to a homeless shelter. I am so incredibly lucky that he and his mother are amazing and understanding people because they embraced me with open arms. They gave me a place to stay and never pressed me about money. I have never gone back to my mother’s house since. If it wasn’t for them I would not be alive right now. They genuinely saved my life and I am forever grateful to them for that.

After my bf and I finally got our own place after living with his parents for nearly 2 years , my mom decided that time passed is equivalent to an apology, and wanted to rekindle our relationship. However, after she tried to visit my place and was met by my roommates who are also all trans, things didn’t go her way. She kept asking for my dead name and misgendering me. My roommates stood up for me and told her that she should stop misgendering me and have some respect, that they didn’t know anyone by that name, and that it’s not cool for her to still be calling me that.

My mom gave me a very angry phone call, telling me that my friends are disrespectful and that they should know that she’s the only person allowed to disrespect me because she gave birth to me. Unfortunately for her that is not the case.

My response to that was this:

and her response was this:

So it was what it was. She tried to withhold my phone plan from me as punishment because it was the only thing left that I relied on her for anymore. I said fuck it, got a new phone plan and continued on with my life.

I’ve tried to have conversations with her to reach an understanding hundreds of times in the past, countless letters and one sided conversations, she was never interested. It is what it is. We haven’t really spoken since then and I’m content with that. Believe me, I have said all I could possibly say.

In terms of my paganism, my whole family subscribed to a certain genre of black conservative Christianity that sees all indigenous forms of spirituality as evil. I don’t know how much they know about my craft but I know they hate it, and that’s fine. My mom hates my dark art and wanted me to use my ✨talents✨ to make Christian art. The only person in my family who even somewhat understands me is my older brother and we have a good relationship. I am no longer concerned with trying to please people who don’t see me as a person. Those who are real will stick around, and those who won’t, wont.

I know that they probably think I’m lost and broken and using demons to fill the void, and they can think that. One thing I want to make incredibly clear is that I do not harbour resentment towards the Christian God, Christianity or Jesus Christ for the terrible actions of his followers. I came to peace with and forgave him long ago. I love him. My being a Luciferian is not revenge against my mom or God. That God has always been there for me and supported me for who I am through all of this, and he still does.

Since I was a child I’ve always been told that I don’t know who I am, that I can’t think or speak for myself, and since I was a child I have always remained 10 toes down on who I am. They won’t believe that I’m really trans until the day I die, they won’t believe that I lived a beautiful and fulfilling life as a devotee of Lucifer because they cannot fathom that I know and love myself. Oh well, they say success is the best revenge.

I love my family and I always will, but for their comfort and my safety I keep my distance from them. I’m pretty damn sure they wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me anyways with all their paranoia about the devil.

Funnily enough Lucifer has been excellent bigot repellent for me. He’s always protecting me from people who would hate me anyways. If my paganism is such an abomination that it prevents my past abusers from hurting me more, then that’s a bonus in my eyes. Stay the fuck away from me if it bothers you so much, we don’t have enough in common to have a productive conversation anyways. If ever my mother came to me honestly and sought true redemption, I would certainly forgive her, I don’t enjoy being estranged. But that would take effort and care on her part, and that simply does not seem to be her biggest priority right now, it never was and I never was. It izz what it izz 🤷‍♂️

So yeah, tldr, I definitely don’t live with my parents lol.

[workmaninprogress]

Forewarning, this is a long post. I tried to pare it down but couldn’t.

I don’t know how to do a page break thing on this app, so y’all will just have to scroll.

Sorry not sorry (I am a little sorry).

Four years ago, I had my first testosterone prescription in my hand.

I remember the day clearly. At the time, I was seeing an endo 2 hours away. A few of my friends also saw him, so I had been to that office multiple times as fun group trips.

When it came down to it being my turn to go on hormones, I drove myself by myself. I’m not sure how I felt about the solitary aspect of it at that moment. I was probably bummed that my friend’s class schedule didn’t fit in my favor, but I doubt I was too concerned about it.

Though, I think, even without fully realizing it, I was gearing up for my transition to be done in solitude.

As I started to research medical transitioning, I kept finding people going through the same journey. I was watching them as they were having “goodbye boobies” cakes and “man-niversary” parties. Pre-transition me was so excited for all of that. I wanted that camaraderie—those celebrations.

I had this grand idea that I’d meet a girl that cared deeply enough to be around for every shot and kiss me after I put the bandaid on. Or that I’d have the group of friends where we all celebrated each other’s milestones together.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, I met a girl, and for nearly four years, I felt like a compromise. Like my transition was in the way of what she wanted. She didn’t care to watch me jab a needle in my leg. She didn’t treat my scars with kindness. She cared that I was “hot” and that I was “the best of both worlds.” I thought it was a compliment, it wasn’t.

While prepping for top surgery, I struggled to find someone to go to Florida with me. I wanted a couple of friends to share the experience with; help make it fun instead of only focused on recovery.

I watched many people go through their transition with friends loving on them. But when it was my turn, it felt like it was a challenge to find people who could be around.

Those moments were hard. I felt like I wasn’t as worthy as the others who were surrounded by loved ones. Quite frankly, I was bitter and jealous.

I’ve moved past those feelings since then. I'm able to acknowledge that schedules, work, and money all played a factor, but when you hear ”you’re just asking way too much,” then you start to feel like your existence is too much. And that hurts.

Thankfully, I did have people to support me (my mom & a friend) during that trip.

Because I DO have plenty of support, even if I’m stubborn and put up a wall, making myself feel like no one is around, I have people that love on me and care for me.

I don’t want to come off as ungrateful or like I’m bashing my friends.

I know they care; I know I’m not a burden to them.

I just never expected my transition to feel so lonely, and some days that thought hits too hard.

I had friends around for my first shot, the first time I shaved my face, and the days we spent filming a silly coming out video. Those moments of camaraderie have existed in my life. They’re few and far between, and I’m positive I’ve forgotten about a lot of them. But they have existed, and I’m grateful for them.

There are just so many times that I wish this wasn’t such a lonely process.

For the most part, I emptied my top surgery drains myself. I peeled off the incision tape myself. I do my shots alone in my bedroom. I take the progress photos of myself.

Some days it’s an empowering feeling, like “look at all I’ve accomplished on my own,” other days, the silence cuts deep.

What I’ve learned over my four years since getting my first ‘script is that transitioning isn’t a team sport. It’s you working your ass off day and night to reach the goals you’ve set for yourself.

And sometimes, that means it gets ridiculously lonely.

Your experience may differ from mine; in fact, it probably does. You may have someone with you for every shot. You may have someone who emptied your drains and tucked your post-surgery-drugged ass into bed.

Maybe you’re in more solitude than I am. Perhaps you’ve gone through every single part of this journey as a solo tour.

Maybe you’ve experienced a bit of both with people that have come in and out of your life over the years.

There’s no wrong way to go through this process. We’re all just as strong for sticking around and sticking needles in our butts whether there are people by our sides or not.

When I posted the photo of that prescription in my hand, my golden ticket, I said, “This is only the beginning. There is so much more to come.”

And I still believe it.

Four years later, I’ve become more cynical and perhaps bitter towards my transition, but there truly is so much more left to discover.

Now that I’ve gotten that rant out of the way (it’s one I’ve been deciding whether or not to post), I acknowledge that I do have great friends. And a great family. I have people in my life that are so utterly proud and aren’t afraid to say it. I’m grateful for all those that have been by my side. Truly.

Sometimes my walls get in the way and make things lonelier than they need to be, so I’ll work on it.

If you’re feeling lonely in your transition right now, as weird as this sounds, you’re not alone in those feelings. Even if you have the most supportive people next to you, it’s still okay to feel lonely. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.

That’s the main reason I’ve written these thoughts out; because they’re confusing and often conflicting.

I have had a hard time letting myself feel lonely without an overwhelming sense of guilt about it.

I wanted to share these thoughts for those of you that are in the same head space.

It’s nice knowing that I have accomplished so much of my transition myself. I feel stronger because of it. I’ve come a long way in the four years since that solo drive, and will forever be thankful and proud.

Just as I will be forever proud and thankful for those who have been by my side during the journey.

I really do appreciate you all.

[rose-against-dersecest]

I have an appointment for T next month, but my mom is really against it and trying to guilt trip me while trying to make me feel like I'm reflecting that she failed as a mom and that I'll "make [my] little siblings think [she's] okay with it when [she's] not" and thinks that I believe starting T is gonna magically fix everything wrong with my life and that I need to wait until I'm 21 with several years of therapy even though a gender counselor said I'm trans, what can I do in this situation? hlp

(prt. 2) sorry for asking for advice, I'm not sure if you're okay with it, but you're very wise and nice

It’s okay to ask for advice, don’t apologize!! You’re not a burden!!

How old are you? If you’re a legal adult, you can decide for yourself the medical care you need; you don’t need her permission. I know most mentally ill gay people like myself can’t drive, but perhaps you could ask a friend for a ride or take an Uber to your gender therapist’s office?

And my mom was the exact same. :/ When I came out, she made it all about her, and how she “failed as a parent,” and she almost kicked me out of the house she was so mad. Years later, she’s a great ally who helps me with my transition, but it took a lot of time for her to adjust. But just, like, it’s so dumb how parents treat being transgender as like, you choosing to go against the family as a personal thing. Like it’s a choice, and you’re bringing shame onto your family??? Like. I’m not trying to hurt anyone-- I’m transitioning so I don’t hurt myself.

My mom also in the beginning guilt tripped me with passive-aggressive remarks like, “you know you can change your mind, though...” and “it’s okay to question this and not be sure, we don’t have to do anything...” Like, at that point, I’d known I was a girl for like. Two straight years. So it wasn’t a phase, and I’d done loads of research and soul-searching already.

Let me tell you, it’s not wrong to transition, and your siblings will not magically want to transition too if you do. (my younger sister is still very much cis AND straight, and we’re incredibly close, so no, we don’t “corrupt” people) Tell her that you’re still her child, you still love her (if she’s abusive, you can lie or omit this one), you’re the same person with the same dreams and goals, and that you’re still alive, healthy, and still you.

Hopefully she can come around? Or you can find a good support system in friends and/or family. Good luck!! I’m wishing you well in getting T (be sure to exercise often & get lots of vitamin C to maximize the effects).

[rosexgallagher]

its me, mara bring another muse of the many. you guys know how much i love my muses and each one of them is different,  so rosemary “rose” gallagher is quite different from amara. anyways please love my new muse and bring me all the connections and plots. 

Rosemary Gallagher’s life was perfect. 

Born in Dublin, Ireland. 

Her father was a wealthy business man and her mother was a socialite. Rose got just about everything she wanted and more and was happy and kind and social until she turned 13.

 She returned home one day to find her mother in tears and her father storming out of the house. At first she was angry at her father, not understanding why he would abandon them until her mother told her. 

It turns out that her mother had an affair for a few years and Rose was the result of it. Apparently her father knew a bit about the affair, that her mother was meeting up once a week with his best friend. He said nothing about it, believing that it didn’t matter when he had a beautiful daughter. 

However, when he found out that she wasn’t really his daughter, he completely lost it.

When her parents officially split, Rose felt as if her whole world just went upside down. She overheard her mother begging her father to stay, to give her one more chance and that she loved only him. But her father moved to France. 

For a few weeks, her mother could hardly look at her. In her mother’s eyes, she was the reason her parents split up. No longer able to keep up with their previously luxurious and lavish lifestyle, her mother moved the two of them into a small, one bedroom apartment. 

Her father supplied them money every month for the first three months but soon cut them off permanently. It was a hard transition for Rose.

 One day things were great and the next, she struggled to get three meals a day.

For a while, Rose wouldn’t accept what’s happened. She couldn’t even look at her mother and despised the fact that her mother blamed her. In fact, for a few months, she didn’t return home. 

She met a few new friends in a shadier part of town who helped her develop her drinking and smoking habits. 

When she finally did return home, she found that her mother had run off with another man. 

The landlord felt sorry for the thirteen year old and offered to let her stay in the apartment longer for only half the rent.

For six years years now, Rose has been fending for herself. She did a poor job for the first few years, not really caring about health or nutrition. She saw no point in caring for herself until her landlord kicked her out. A part of her understood why he did it but another part of her hated the fact that he did. She understood that times were harder and he needed a tenant who would pay full rent.

Bouncing around from hostel to hostel, she decided it was time to get a fresh start. 

She went to school and got herself an eduction; worked two jobs to be able to pay the bills and thanks to one of her science teachers who was kind enough to actually help her and take her in as one of her own children - the world was alining again. 

Her new adopted mom told her this was her time to reinvent herself. When she heard about the fact she could attend college and they would figure out a way to pay it, she quickly applied to the best universities to be a part of their Pre-Med. 

After all, the first step to building a better life was doing something you loved, right? She was incredibly nervous, afraid that she wouldn’t be accepted and would  disappointment her new mo. 

Rose was ecstatic when she found out she was accepted in to Oxford and with a full ride scholarship. 

It was the first time in a long time she was excited for something.

However by her second year of college her mom and her started having financial problems. The woman who had taken her in as her own daughter fell sick and was diagnosed with cancer. Her adopted father worked three jobs and still it wasn’t enough to pay treatment, the house, her four siblings educations not to mention her own things. 

She worked at a coffee shop but only did minimun wage. 

So she took manners to her own hand. ( if you seen guilt then you know where this is going to)

She was recommended by one of the girls she studied with  to do this one time job as a courtesan. in a very high end club around oxford where only the elite go to. 

Rose being lawless and quite the promiscuous young lady she took the job and was surprised with how much money she made in one night. 

That same money she sent it to her adopted father and told him that she was working at a coffee shop and had been saving up for a trip but that she rather it be used for the medical bills and treatment. 

So evers since, Rose is a pre med student by day and a courtesan at night and goes by Aurora. 

Personality: Rose is quite the intelligent and empathic young woman. She always helping others, either by doing charity work or even offering her tutoring services to there pre med students. She is kind and caring; but she can also be very outspoken and vindictive so don’t make her mad.  Very stubborn and despite the fact that she might need help won't accept it. She enjoys going out and party,  loves to drink and just get lost in the music. 

Wanted Connections:

best friend ( male & female)

friends 

enemies

tutor/student 

confidants

ex boyfriend/girlfriend 

current lover.

“yes i’m a damsel, i’m in distress but i do not need  your help” - probably a guy who tries to get her out a bad scenario and ever since they are those unlikely friends ( maybe even more idk)

one of her clients who knows her true identity 

childhood friends who rekindle their friendship back at university 

etc 

[cripplepunk-sylveon]

get me out of this house

Aryn/Erin/Hass-Today at 4:57 PM

"You have an appointment with Dr Q on saturday he's worried about you" oh, you mean the quack who literally doesn't understand what half my medications are for and encouraged my anorexia all through high school? Ok, thanks mommy dearest, I'll be sure to make that appointment yup yupCrying in a public bathroom afterwards is gonna be so much fun!!Also thanks for doing shit behind my back and robbing me of personal autonomy again not like that's my! Worst! And most well-founded! Fear! Ever!!

Aryn/Erin/Hass-Today at 5:01 PM

this doctor is also the one who said "you're NOT disabled" even though I'm. Literally having to file for disability coverage because between chronic fatigue and autism I can't workor driveyeah. Totally gonna make that appointent. Totally gonna go. Uh huh. Sure.Oh yeah, and did I mention he's also denied me anything I might need to transition because Mom's manipulating him behind my back to keep me a girl foreverthat's not paranoia btw I know she's doing that. I have literally heard her doing it through the walls of our doctor's officeand this is AFTER the crap she pulled on Boxing Day

Aryn/Erin/Hass-Today at 7:25 PM

... and then she came home and tried to guilt trip me about the whole thing"he's so concerned about you" he literally didn't give a flying fuck until I had to go to hospital.He did literally nothing.He only cares now because Dr Seufert took his ass to task."That was the first time in my whole life a doctor asked how you were when you weren't there" "Give him a chance, he's upset about what happened too"BITCHDON'T GET ME STARTED ABOUT HOW NOT TRUE THAT ISDON'T GET ME STARTED ON THISHE'S UPSET? HE? MY IDIOT DOCTOR? IS UPSET ABOUT MY S//C/DAL IMPULSES??? TOO FUCKING BADyou did nothing to prevent them fucko, and now you're letting my mother make choices for me when I'm 24 years old.literally something I've been afraid of my entire life.