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#ive spent the past few months being insulted by other people at shelters.
6-2-aestheticsofhate · 6 months
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What's the fucking point
#god i feel like killing myself#just existing is a fucking struggle#whats the point of it#moving into an apartment was supposed to help and it did i fucking guess but i am so drained from trying to survive these past few months#fuck i could hardly bring myself to get out of bed today#i could hardly bring myself to eat#small things keep fucking building up and fuck. fuck. im so fucking tired#im gonna be honest i dont know how much fight i have left in me#i tried so fucking long#i begged and pleaded online for help with just. fucking anything. i was fucking homeless and people rbed my post but i hardly got anything#i feel like my art sucks and its not even good enough for people to pity commission me when i was fucking homeless#i know people did commission me. or donate. and i really appreciate it#but the sheer fact i was open about being homeless and had a whopping... two people either comm or donate me#and id make posts talking about how/why the shelter i was staying at was bad for me#and barely anyone helped#ive spent the past few months being insulted by other people at shelters.#having my fucking abusers show up at one of them#and constantly had people downplay my sadness and mental health issues or physical health issues#even though im not homeless anymore its like theres deep scarring from the fucking. whole goddamn experience#im in so much pain#i keep crying#i cant focus#i can hardly function#ive only eaten one meal today and its 7pm now#i dont think im gonna make it.#personal#vent
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candyclan · 5 years
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Coming out letter to my mom. (FTM) At the start of my transition, I wanted to go by a name that started with an “A”because my birthname did. All the rest of it is basically the same.
THE TRUTH:
I didn’t scream “I am a boy” at my parents. Honestly, my mother (specifically) controlled a lot of what I did, who I hung out with, and what I wore as a child. I believe she has/had an idea about what she wanted out of a daughter since I was born, and really just lived through me. I think she eventually had to give me room to make my own decisions, later in life. I didn’t come out until I was 16, although I had spent 6 months prior to even coming out thinking about my gender identity. I was extremely sheltered. I want you guys to know that I didn’t know what being transgender was until I was a freshman in high school and met my best friend (who is STILL MY BEST FRIEND TODAY) who identified as Non-binary gender fluid. I had never really met someone AFAB that lived to be anything other than female. With that came the knowledge that sometimes, men don’t necessarily have to have penises and I can wear whatever I’m comfortable with. I used to be religious in middle school (raised Christian) but I never found god. It never made sense to me how so many people can put their faith in other people’s ideas of what god is (the Bible) but not listen when their real CHILD comes to them and tells them that they feel uncomfortable in their gender identity. I also came out as bisexual in middle school, after meeting a girl I had a fancy for. To which my mother sobbed and cried and asked how she had failed as a parent. I remember loving pink, it was my favorite color. Pink, purple, blue. My top 3. Now it’s blue, pink, purple but basically the same. I had a pink room, loved hello kitty, let my mom curl my hair with little curlers at night so I could wake up and be somebody different the next day. My brother played with carebears and my Barbie dolls more than I did as a child. I remember a toy gun and handcuffs. I was fairly experimental as a child, I did: Girl Scouts, swimming, piano, soccer, ballet, cheerleading, and more honestly. I always got “boy” toys at McDonald’s (I mean cmon they’re cooler) I just was kinda everywhere. I feel like that’s easier for someone AFAB to be. My brother was harassed by my family for liking girly things but I was never shown that I couldn’t like stereotypical “boy things” by extended family. My mother however in the line at McDonalds I could never forget, turned and looked at me (baseball cap backwards tank top and shorts)and said “So, what?” “Are you batting for the other team” implying that because of the clothes I liked to wear I would be a lesbian. My mother (like I said, kinda controlling and extremely narcissistic) when I was allowed to cut my hair super short for the first time I was 16. Afterwards she has said things like: “but you’re so pretty how could you have cut your hair” “you looked so nice with long hair” I never felt akin to femininity. I was actually VERY uncomfortable with it. I hated being the “weaker” gender. I never wanted my nails painted. It was torture. I acted like makeup and and nail polish was torture, the hairbrush was my enemy. I used to just put my hair up in a low ponytail every day as I got older. I knew she’d never let me cut it all off. Basically, other than wanting to grow up strong and tough and not liking to be treated like a female, I was female. There were parts of being female I didn’t really have a problem with, and honestly that’s why I didn’t come out for so long. I wasn’t in a house or raised by people I knew would accept anything other than me being their “little girl” I was a daddies girl. So between my lack of understanding of where my feelings towards my gender roles were coming from, being encouraged by my family to be girly, not being exposed to gender diversity (or anything queer), and my controlling mother, I remained in the dark about who I was.
TRIGGER WARNING:::(abuse)::::: I was never close with my mother, and actually hated her growing up. To this day she is the most judge mental, self-centered woman I know. My father was funny, charismatic, and lost his shit sometimes. I like to say, 90% of the time he was amazing. We made jokes and could literally finish each other’s sentences. But honestly my father, 10% of the time was abusive. Most of my abuse in my life was covert (narcissistic abuse from my mother) and verbal/emotional/barely physical abuse from my father. He’s 6”3’ 350 lbs and very loud and scary, especially to a young child. He punched a hole in my wall, he threw a remote at a wall and shattered it to pieces, he threatened to kill my dog with a baseball bat in front of me. Which I swear to god he would have done if I wasn’t holding my dog, protecting him. These moments were few and far between, but they were riddled with insults and almost always left me with less than I started with. My father did spank my brother and I, and one time he clapped my brother so well that he left a purple hand mark on his butt. My mother told my father she’d take us away if that happened again. My father never left marks. He never had to, he was so big and would just get up in my face and scream at me. He made me feel helpless. Because he was invading my space I felt physically threatened, and he never actually had to touch me and leave bruises because that threat was already implied by invading my space. I was so young, but I always knew my family wasn’t right. Finally at 16, I stood up to my father for the first time. I didn’t care if he was bigger than me, I didn’t care if I would lose, I was willing to fight for me. Anyway, long story short the police were called because we were screaming at each other in front of his apartment building. I’m not going to say I didn’t fuck up as a teenager, but I never deserved the pressure and the abuse he was dishing out and had dished out my whole life. I knew that. I cut him out of my life just after turning 16, by then I had been questioning my identity. It became easier after leaving my father to fall into who I was. My father is FAIRLY religious and my mother claims to be but she never talks about god, she never prays, and now that my father and her are divorced I don’t think she’s been inside a church since. Losing my father was a lot, despite his abuse he and I were really close and had really similar personalities. The reality of abuse isn’t “well, now I see them as an abuser so now none of that good stuff is left it’s all tainted” I had to struggle with losing someone very important in my life at a young age, for myself.
Arguments against me being trans:
My family has been a bit divided in responding to me coming out. By now, it’s been about 4 years.
My mother and her side of the family are in denial. They don’t understand how I can’t be a “lesbian that just likes boy things”. They don’t use my name or pronouns.
My father, what little communication I have with him now, is bewildered. He and I had a discussion this past Christmas where I brought up what his abuse did to me mentally and he apologized but then tried to say “well what about your part in all of this” and said that I was hanging out with crazy depressed people, cutting myself, doing drugs, (I was smoking weed and I’ve tried acid like once piss off) and was sneaking out. Yeah. I did do all of that BUT GUESS WHAT. IM 20. I go where I wanna go. I fuck who I wanna fuck. I smoke what I want and guess what? It’s not any different from when I was 16 except now I don’t have parents up my ass telling me what to do. His argument basically was that I need to own up to what I did too and that fucking angered me. You don’t apologize and then go “well what about you” that’s not an apology. That’s deflection and honestly I don’t think I need to apologize because my parents were super controlling. I was just trying to do what I wanted and they didn’t like it. He and I have talked about me being trans and he pretty much thinks I’m certifiable. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.
My brother: Ethan, my brother and I have always been close. He’s 17 now, and he had a different reaction to me being trans. Of all of my family he was the most receptive to my pleas of gender dysphoria and he suffers with anxiety so he gets stuff. But alas, after asking him if he’d call me by my name and pronouns (after 4 years of being out) he thinks that I am the one that has an issue with society. I told him I was starting T soon and he said: “Hrt won’t lessen all the things that come with being transgender. If you feel like doing hormones is the best for you then do it, but from a logical standpoint I think there just needs to be more thickening of skin” he claimes that if I try hard enough I could be fine living as female. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.
None of my family supports me. None of my family understands. And none of them ever will. I have been out for four fucking years. I can’t tell you how frustrating family rejection can be. I have cried so much at the idea of not having a supportive family. I feel like I was ripped away from a beautiful life somewhere and thrust into this mess.
Honestly though, it doesn’t matter, the world keeps spinning and I keep finding people who love and accept me for who I truly am. I have made peace with my family’s lack of acceptance. It’s made me stronger and more compassionate towards others. Made me want to be better than them. I am actually going to start hormones soon, and on top of other fears I have, will be cutting my family out of my life. I can’t be 25 with a full beard and getting misgendered by my family. I can’t do it. They may feel like I’m going too far, that I don’t have to do this, but I do. I’m not doing this because I didn’t get too much attention as a kid or my mom favored my brother over me, I’m not doing this because it’s cool, I’m not doing this because I’m bored, I’m not doing this because I hate myself or anyone else. This is AFFIRMATION. Sometimes, cutting people who can’t see you for who your really are out of your life is affirming too.
Guys, girls, people, keep your head up. Things get better, I know. I thought life was never going to get better so I know that’s what it can feel like. But it does. Never ever let someone control your life or who you are. You’re beautiful/handsome/amazing! You deserve to be comfortable in your own skin and to love who you are. I am getting there, we all are.
Love,
Tanner M.
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