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1 Part Trans Update + 1 Part Life Update

Hi there folks, here is my fashionably late blog post.

It feels like forever ago when I wrote my last post about self-loathing. Unironically, I started to feel that way again today, which reminded me I need to update this!

First- Trans stuff. I had TWO appointments between my last post and this one. The last post being January 21st and today being February 13th? That’s some fast stuff!
It was a lot of questions. Emotional questions. Factual questions. A lot of family oriented stuff was asked.
Now, I didn’t think it was going to bother me that much, because I’m not easily triggered by anything. But having to talk about my dad and the verbal abuse and neglect that I thought was normal…Kinda left me feeling upset. So for those going into therapy and are reading this?

Be ready. To tackle. Your demons. Because they’re going to come up. And these answers to these questions? They get discussed between your therapist and their supervisor. You need to be honest and truthful. Because you have to be mentally prepared to progress.

My next appointment is the 21st this month. I’ll be having a meeting with the therapist and her supervisor. :) I’ll let you know how that goes.

 

 

And for anyone that cares about my actual life? I have probably 85% moved forward from my previous relationship. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m keeping myself busy. I am going back to college part time as well as still working full time.

And I got myself this cutie internet boyfriend~
We met through mutual friends and have been aware of each other’s existence for like…four or something years. Prior to the break up, we were talking a lot and becoming closer.
Thanks Persona Team for giving us conversation! Haha! (STILL CAN’T WAIT FOR PERSONA 5 YOU GUYS)

But yea. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and it’s a little lonely that I’ll be at school and then visiting my cat at my ex’s house. No cuddles this year. :/

Long distance is hard. But…it can be worth it. :D

<3

 

~~HAPPY VALENTINE’S~~

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Wild Ride

Hoo boy, where do I begin?

I was due to be married December 18th. Past tense. My ex fiancee` and I decided to break up. We’re still friends, but it doesn’t hurt any less…

We simply grew up and because of that, apart. Romantically, we’re not compatible. We don’t have a lot in common any more. And, because of a series of very unfortunate circumstances, our relationship became abusive without our even realizing it. It frightens us both and is sad to know it got this way without either of us realizing what happened.

It happened right before that appointment I told you guys about. Literally the day before. My therapist was really shocked and kind of concerned that I was taking it so well.

I’m not really taking it well. Humor is my defense mechanism and I know how to bury my emotions really well so that I don’t feel them. I cried a lot as the break up happened, because I didn’t want it to be true. But every hour after that, I rationalized it and logically…it all made sense. There’s still a hole in my heart, and I miss her like crazy…but it makes sense why everything happened.

And, it was a very tough choice to make so close to the wedding. I admire her bravery and honesty to break things off before the wedding.

So, despite the sadness, this does make me kind of excited. The next time I’m in a relationship? I’m hoping to be on T and have gone through top surgery. I want my next partner to know who I am. I mean…I won’t argue if it feels right to have someone in my life WHILE I’m changing…I figure it’d just be easier to have the bulk of it out of the way.

I wonder where life will take me now.

 

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Coming Out Continues

I’m hosting a game on Facebook that no one is quite sure I’m playing. I’m leaving hints. Any posts I make are all related to Female -> Male. I’m enjoying myself, and that’s all that matters. Mostly close friends all know now.

Family however is TRICKY.

I had to come out to my biological dad over Facebook. We’re not always on good terms. I could really care less about what he thinks or does…but the saint that is my betrothed is forcing me to stay civil. So, for the wedding, I decided it would be good for him and that part of my family to know who I am.

There are many ways and words I could use to describe my dad. Supportive is not one of them. However he is strong. While he did take it upon himself to kidnap my brother and I and lie to the court about my mom’s capabilities of being able to care for us after the divorce was finalized…he was able to support us. He took the responsibility of raising us and we were fed, clothed, and had a roof over our head.

Most of the time, we lived with family. Most of the time, it wasn’t food that was healthy for us. We never saw our dad because he worked to pay back the family that was helping us survive. But he got the job done. But when you raise a child, it’s not as easy as The Sims needs meters…There’s a SOCIAL aspect too.

 

**EDIT: At this point I went on a rant and deleted it. This wasn’t meant for me to gripe and bitch about how I don’t like him, however true that may be. Here are the FACTS.

  • I had restrictions on the color choices and gender of clothing.
    • No boxers, despite the fact I got and wore them anyways
    • No black clothes, because it implied I was Satanic and/or depressed (ACCORDING TO THE SCHOOL whom informed my parents of their assumptions)
    • More blouses, less T-shirts, and less/no choice of what the clothes looked like.
  • No attempt at communication
    • Dad set up a therapy appointment to find out what “makes [me] tick”. Instead of listening and trying to understand. Because he spends more time telling me his expectations than caring about what I think of those expectations
    • Due to frequent moves across the united states because my dad wanted to desperately to raise us, I have the social adequacy of a slice of bacon in the middle of a vegan restaurant.
      • Basically, if you want to know how I’m feeling you have to drill and ask questions and be fucking relentless. Otherwise I will answer you “Great!” “Fine!” “Not much!”. I share my feelings with no one. Not even my Cutie waifu.
  • No physical presence
    • Even if he was a communication expert, the fact is he was never at home and always at work.
    • Time spent together was usually me being scolded for:
      • Not cleaning something, complaining about my step-brothers for a NUMBER of things, being online/computer, something I wrote to a friend in a private note stashed under my bed…

I wish I could be making the last set of bullets up. But these are most of the memories I have with my dad are him or step-mom being angry at me for not being adult enough. I was 16 when I moved out. From what I can remember, these behaviors started when I was probably 12. I was just…expected to be an adult because they weren’t around/at home as much as I was.

So. Needless to say. Things got a LOT better when I moved out. My life did a 180, I learned how to be responsible and to be held accountable at my level of competency. I was responsible for the same things a 16 year old should be responsible for. I hated it. I was tired of being an adult. But it helped me grow. It helped put me where I am today. It also gave my dad a lot of time to reflect…on me being a lesbian. *cough*

Some point after not talking to him for…years. We talked over Facebook and we built a little bridge. It’s a flimsy bridge on my end at least. But at least he was willing to try and understand. Even if I know he doesn’t like it. Which is still hurtful.

I didn’t want him to come to my wedding and expect me to be something that I’m not. I’m not wearing a dress. I’m not a girl. I’m not his daughter. He’s not walking me down the aisle or having a dance with me. I know this hurts because I’m the only girl among my siblings. But it’s hard for me to lie to my family. So I told him in the NICEST POSSIBLE WAY…that I’m trans.

That was a little over a week ago. My step-mom, who has been more supportive than my dad and more so since I’ve left home, sent me a message a day after saying that she supports me and dad is coping with it.

I am not surprised or upset.

I feel like people think I should be, but my relationship with my dad isn’t strong enough for me to care much more than just being nice to him over Facebook. He made sure I didn’t die and taught me how to be an adult starting first grade when my parents divorced. If he’s accepting, I’d be shocked. I may build a stronger bridge. If he avoids it and doesn’t come out for the wedding? I won’t be surprised or upset. Because that’s what he’s taught me to expect from him. He’s not a part of my life. And the moment he’s finally out, I can stop addressing my step-dad by his name…I try not to, but sometimes I feel that I have to clarify…

(Fun fact, to show their support, my mom and stepdad watched a lot of LOGO tv and Big Gay Sketch Show…I love them.)

I’ll keep you posted on how my dad responds. If he does. We’ll see.

 

Expectations are set low so I’ll either be pleasantly surprised…or things will go as I expect.

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I Don’t Deserve These Friends

I am an incredibly lucky person to have friends that are supportive. Incredibly. Lucky.

Labor Day, I went with my friend “Casper” the Friendly Trans, to meet my best friend from college, “Peanut Butter”, who is also my Best Man for my wedding. We got food (Shabu Shabu!) and talked about random things. Mostly Casper and Peanut were asking each other questions and I was crossing my fingers, hoping they got along and wanted to be friends.

Peanut and I consumed probably half the mornings reserves of meat by ourselves. And we were proud of it, dammit. And neither of us logged out calories for that day. We were content.

Also during lunch, I expanded the small group of people that get to know about my gender identity crisis, and told Peanut. I was nervous and not at the same time. I didn’t think that he would suddenly hate me or be rude.

However, I have been surprised before.

Flashback to 2008, the latter half of my Junior year of high school. I had just moved out of my abusive household to live with my mom, moving 700 miles away from friends and family. Mind you, previous to this move I had lived in that location for TWO years. The longest I’d ever been in one place.

I had already been exploring my spirituality in secret, since Dad and Step Mom were non approving of… everything…anyways. I was free to explore in my new home with Mom. I really started to feel like that part of me was accepted. So I wanted others to accept me as well. I hadn’t told my exclusively online friends about it, because there had never been a reason. But I was becoming confident. I felt I could be more expressive. I could be myself without fear!

I told my best friend that I was Pagan!

And she blocked me. Ignored me. Retreated completely from me. Was angry. Sent me upset emails. Told me I was going to hell.

FIVE YEARS OF FRIENDSHIP.

And I haven’t spoken to her since. Never have I felt so hurt and betrayed. My BEST friend. I trusted her. I reached out to her. I tried to get her to understand I am still the same person! …Nothing worked. And I felt wrong, guilty, and felt my worth as a human being plummet. Not all of my friends reacted the same way, but it only takes one.

Flashforward, I’m aware it’s a possibility that Peanut will walk out. He’ll think the worst of me. Even though he was the factor that got me thinking about my identity. All it took was that simple question.

“What does [Lost Boy] identify as?”

He wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t prepared for an answer. So I told him. And?

So supportive. Peanut is not just my Best Man, he is THE best man.

After lunch, I introduced Peanut and Casper to Boomers! an arcade/park. We chipped in for a ton of points to play games and played mini golf together. I’m introducing Casper to video games, so the arcade was really exciting for me. But we opted to do mini golf first. We were awful. Like. We suck at golf you guys. But it was so much fun.

At about the fifth hole or so, both Peanut and Casper asked me if I wanted them to call me by my -currently being tested- name. And use male pronouns.

And I swelled inside.

I probably didn’t let them see that, but I was elated that they cared. Casper knows what it’s like, since he’s just been trough this. But for Peanut to also offer and then go out f his way to use the pronouns and my name? I was trying really hard to contain myself. I don’t know what I did to earn such friends. I certainly don’t feel like I deserve them. But I couldn’t be happier to have them by my side.

 

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The First Post

I could mull over all day what to write here, but the fact of the matter is:

This first post is always the most awkward.

  • What does the reader expect?
  • Who I am?
  • What I will write about?
  • Do I write well enough to entertain the writers needs?

But the truth is, I have no straightforward way to answer those questions or provide you proof of an answer. What I can tell you is WHY I decided to create this blog.

This isn’t my first time, that’s for certain. When I was younger, I wanted the world to know my feelings and validate me- which was all a cry for attention that I felt I was deprived of (which still isn’t wrong, however it wasn’t the best way to cope with that feeling).

As I have grown and learned myself, I have stumbled upon something big.
Larger than life.
A monumental decision.
Something that had been a fleeting unattainable thought until now.
I’m not a lesbian.

Shocking, I know! Any one who knows me, knows I have this running gag of all lesbians like gay guys. It’s just a “lesbian thing”. Just as all straight guys like lesbians. I’m using the term all very loosely here.

What brought about this notion was my friend asking my partner,

“What does (Lost Boy) identify as?”

I didn’t give it much thought at first. I liked being boyish. But I liked being a girl sometimes too. I thought…I’m just boyish. Or…sometimes, I could like being a guy. Maybe I’m gender fluid? Which is a term I had to look up.

The more I pondered, the more I researched. The more I researched, the more I realized.

I was not comfortable with the term lesbian. But I had earned the label by being a female what is attracted to other females. I went through the hardships of acquiring that title. The pain of having to come out of the closet every time I moved schools. The agony of having to come out to my parents not once, but TWICE (I was received with complete denial the first attempt).

Now, the reason I’m starting the blog, before I get too carried away, is next.

I think I’m pretty sure I’m gonna go out on a limb and say —

I’m a boy.

To document my feelings, my relationships, and my journey as I discover this statement, which I hold to be self-evident, I have created this blog.

I don’t seek my feelings to be validated. My goal is not to gain attention (as I will be using Pet Names for all of my friends and family.

My ultimate goal is to be a guide and/or an example for those who are also just Lost Boys and Girls.

Peter Pan - Second Star to the Right