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catmaid-john · 3 years

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Have some soulmate gretchella content courtesy of me (elliott) and em 👀 there was a lot of projecting as far as *ahem* character traits go, hope y’all enjoy!!!!

Summary: Gretchen has grown up with a less than ideal mindset about soulmates. How will they react when they meet their own?

Characters: Gretchen, Pamella, Marion, John, Jessique (mentioned), Vesna (mentioned), Eliza (mentioned)

Pairing(s): queer platonic gretchella

Warnings: subtle(?) homophobia and internalised homophobia, and that may be it but do read with caution as it’s pretty heavy. Let me know if I missed anything!!

Word count: 1,705

Gretchen was six when they asked about the red string on their finger.

“Daddy, what’s this?” they asked, holding up their pinky.

John sighed, closing his book he’d been reading in the study. “It’s a sign that you have a soulmate.”

“What’s a soulmate?”

“Someone meant for you. Like Vesna and I. We were soulmates, but didn’t let that define us.”

Gretchen tilted their head to the side. “What’chu mean?”

“Don’t let the world fool you. Everyone says soulmates are the most important part of life. They’re all wrong. You should focus on things like work and school, not some frivolous nonsense such as one person in all the world meant to be with you. Do you understand?”

Gretchen crossed their arms. “Okay, Daddy. Can we go fly kites today?”

“No, not right now. I have work to do. Maybe later.”

John hadn’t been doing work when Gretchen walked in.

They were ten the first time they saw a pair of soulmates first meet.

They were both boys. The red string that held them together turned white and they hugged.

Could Gretchen’s soulmate be a girl?

“Daddy?” they began as John drove them home from school that day. “I saw two boy soulmates today.”

John’s grip on the steering wheel tightened a bit. “I see.”

“Could my soulmate be a girl?”

“I’m not sure. I should hope not.”

Gretchen furrowed their brows. “How come?”

“Same sex soulmates have a higher mortality rate due to disapproval and lack of acceptance from peers. Not to mention they’re prone to… well, frankly, divorce.”

“But you and Mommy divorced.”

John’s grip tightened further, and Gretchen could see the marking on his pinky finger where his string once was.

“Yes, straight soulmates do divorce sometimes, but it’s higher in same sex soulmates.”

“Why? And what's morality?”

“Mortality. What I meant is that same sex soulmates more often die young and are even murdered. I don’t want that for you.”

Gretchen was suddenly scared. “What if my soulmate is a girl?”

“Don’t worry about that for now. It doesn’t matter.”

The conversation dissipated from there.

Gretchen was thirteen when they decided they didn’t want a soulmate anymore.

The odds of their soulmate being a girl were far too high. They didn’t want to end up like the dead soulmates their dad was talking about.

They took a pair of scissors and tried cutting their string. The scissors broke and clattered to the ground.

What? This had worked for John when he didn’t want a soulmate anymore. Were they doing it wrong?

They took a knife from the kitchen and sawed it across the string. The knife became ground down and dull.

They tried to untie the string but couldn’t find the knot. This soon became a game of finding the most slippery substance to help them slip out of the string.

Nothing worked. It was hopeless.

There was a chance that Gretchen was doomed to die young and there was nothing they could do about it.

Please let my soulmate be a boy, they thought. I wanna live.

They were seventeen when they stopped caring about what their father thought.

They also started using they/them pronouns alongside their step-sibling, Marion. John had married a woman named Eliza, who he claimed he met at a “gathering” for people who abandoned the soulmate life. Her kids were Marion and Jessique, who Gretchen liked much more than Eliza. Their dad had bad taste.

Gretchen was walking home from school when they felt a tug from their string. They usually felt an occasional pull from it but this was much stronger than that. It just about knocked them off their feet.

Before they could question it further, they were being pulled into the middle of the road. Luckily no one was driving, but Gretchen was still not having any of this today.

“Let me go!” they called uselessly.

It hurt to pull against the string but they really didn’t know what else to do. It was a little while before they suddenly collided with someone and was finally able to stop. Unfortunately the two of them crashed to the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” the stranger yelped.

Gretchen put a hand to their forehead, which had bumped into the stranger’s. “No, it’s all good. No harm done.”

“I should have paid more attention but my string was pulling me away and I—”

Gretchen finally took a look at the stranger in question. Bright orange hair overtook every feature and it was radiant as the morning sun. Eyes like drops of chocolate, enticingly sweet. She was too perfect.

Gretchen looked down at their string. It was white.

“Hi,” the stranger murmured. “I’m Pamella. I guess we’re—”

Gretchen got up and ran.

They were in tears when they came to terms with what happened.

They stood in the bathroom sobbing in front of the mirror. John’s voice echoed in their head.

Same sex soulmates have a higher mortality rate due to disapproval and lack of acceptance from peers.

They shook their head to rid themself of their thoughts. They didn’t care what their dad thought. They didn’t.

Same sex soulmates more often die and are even murdered. I don’t want that for you.

No. It was all stigma. It was all lies. Shut up.

You should focus on things like work and school, not some frivolous nonsense such as one person in all the world meant to be with you.

Shut up!

Gretchen was on the verge of screaming but kept as quiet as possible. They didn’t want to worry their siblings.

They didn’t care what their dad thought. They didn’t.

Even still they couldn’t accept what they have faced.

Gretchen was eighteen when they met their soulmate for a second time.

Perhaps not entirely true, given that they had spotted Pamella at school a few times since their run-in. This, however, was their first proper encounter since Gretchen ran.

“Uh, excuse me!” Pamella’s voice called out, catching Gretchen’s attention. They realised who it was and tried to walk away faster.

Go away, go away, go away—

“Hey!” Pamella caught up with them, standing in front of them with a shy smile. “So… I, uh… wanted to give you time to process everything, but I’ve seen you avoiding me like crazy. I just… wanted to know why? At first I thought maybe you were upset about me knocking you over, but I don’t know. Man, I feel like an asshole.” She chuckled awkwardly.

Gretchen blinked. “Sorry,” they said on instinct. “Uh… it’s not you, it’s me, I gotta go.”

They walked away without another word.

Gretchen was home alone with Marion when they confessed to what had been going on.

“Wow,” Marion murmured. “I mean, obviously I knew you’d met your soulmate, I just thought… well, I don’t know. Why’d you run?”

Gretchen buried their face in their hands. “It’s complicated.”

“C’mon, talk to me, bestie.”

Gretchen sighed and sat up. “My dad scared me as a kid telling me I was gonna die if my soulmate was a girl.”

Marion paused, their expression never changing. “The fuck?”

“He was talking about, like, mortality rates of gay soulmates and divorce and shit, so… ten year old me took it to heart for some reason.”

“Huh. So when you realised your soulmate is a girl… aw, Gretch.”

“I know, it’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. I promise you, it’s not stupid. Your dad is a piece of shit.”

Gretchen snorted. “Yup, sounds right.”

“Don’t let him ruin your experience with your soulmate. I promise you, if you let your parent try to run your life, it’ll just hurt. Trust me.”

Gretchen glanced over at Marion. They couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Mari.”

“You gonna go after your soulmate?”

“I might have to.”

The next day at school, Gretchen was the one to approach Pamella.

“Hi,” they murmured shyly.

“Hey,” Pamella replied with hesitation.

“I, uh… I know I’ve been a dick… but… I wanna… try this whole thing again. You deserve better from your… soulmate.”

Pamella was clearly shocked, and Gretchen gave her time to process what they had said. She took a deep breath and finally spoke.

“Hi. I’m Pamella. He/him pronouns.”

Gretchen blinked. That was unexpected.

“Oh. Uh, Gretchen. They/them pronouns.”

Pamella smiled. “Nice to meet you, Gretchen. I’m sure you’re a bit surprised that I’m… ya know, trans. I’m not out to my parents, so that makes it a bit hard to transition, not to mention I’m scared to get my hair cut.”

“I mean, you don’t need a haircut to be trans, though. Being trans makes you trans. I mean, I’m still feminine and nonbinary as fuck, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

Pamella blushed. “Thanks. I’m glad you get it.”

Gretchen grinned. Maybe having a soulmate wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Gretchen and Pam were twenty when they decided to label themselves as platonic soulmates.

They weren’t romantically involved and they were okay with that. Gretchen was aromantic and Pam didn’t care about relationships. He really just wanted to be with Gretchen in a platonic way. They were all he needed.

They had tried to make it work as romantic soulmates, which didn’t last long.

The one thing they continued to do in their platonic relationship was cuddle.

Gretchen laid on top of Pam, who laid on his back and ran his hand up and down their back. Gretchen was having a difficult day and all they needed was cuddles on the couch with a movie on the TV.

Gretchen looked up at Pam, his new haircut still ravishing in their eyes. Gretchen had been tempted to shave their head but decided against it since they liked how they dyed it. Black on one side, their natural brown on the other.

“Pam?” they murmured.

Pam glanced down at them. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we’re soulmates because we just understand each other so much?”

Pam smiled. “I think we’re soulmates because we complete each other in a way no one else gets.”

Gretchen smiled back. They laid their head back down and closed their eyes, Pam running a hand through their hair.

“I’m glad we crashed into each other.”

Pam chuckled. “Me too, love.”

@nachosforfree

#me? projecting being aro onto gretchen? and projecting being trans onto pam?#its more likely than you think #half heart #half heart fanfiction #gretchen freasa #john freasa #pamella casson #marion enneson

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dekuinthelake · 4 years

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Why I’m okay with people knowing I’m transgender

Firstly, I want to start off by saying that if you’re trans and for your own comfort and safety you don’t want to be “outed” that’s 100% understandable and you should not feel bad about that. We all need to move at our own pace when discovering our social limits and confidence. My journey will have not been the same as yours. I live in Colorado, a state that is fairly trans friendly and am a trans man, meaning I’ve most likely had a safer time than I might have elsewhere. Trans women have it especially difficult, and if you feel unsafe in a situation that’s up for you to gage. It doesn’t make you less valid or a coward or anything like that.

Just know that I’m writing this for you and other trans/nb folks. I want our choices to transition to feel like the right one, even when people who don’t understand are making you second guess.

Context:

From the time I was 16-23, I was immensely depressed. I dropped out of highschool because of an immense disillusionment for the future. Primarily, I believed I didn’t have one. I’d always been bad at school, so collage was out of the question. I thought I was too ugly to get married and so that traditional Mormon thing my mother specifically had impressed upon me, which was having kids obviously. Most people disliked me because at the time, I had an extremely aggressive and compulsive attitude thanks to being absolutely lost emotionally. I hated my body and my mind and was convinced the things I despised could never change.

Ironically, one of the thorns in my side was how I always wanted to be a man instead. I recall coming home from school some days and just curling up in bed and sobbing about it.

“If I was a boy, people wouldn’t make fun of my ugly ass body.” Something I felt primarily about my chest. Once I strangled a kid for pointing out my bra strap through a white shirt. No joke. I was volatile and pissed all the time because of dysphoria. Comments about being feminine quite literally triggered me growing up. Every violent fight I remember growing up was caused by someone making fun of me in relation to female gender.

Despite this problem being so obvious, my religious parents took me to Mormon operated therapy. The suggestions I was given by councilors was typically “Have you tried praying about it?” Or “Are you going to Young Women’s every Sunday?” For those of you who don’t know, in the LDS church, they separate Sunday school for age groups based on gender. In particular, they forced all girls to wear dresses.

Having that identity forced on me every Sunday against my will from a very young age caused me to resist in aggressive attitude. Hit a kid in the face with my bible bag once for telling me I should be in the kitchen.

Another unfortunate side effect of the Mormon upbringing was literally not knowing that trans people even existed. I recall seeing trans people (like with waiter we had once) and being a little perplexed but not too bothered. But no one had ever explained the concept to me until much, much later.

After I had dropped out, a friend of mine came out and at the time the concept was alien. I’d spent so much time in my life trying to choke down any hope of being a guy because of religion it seemed impossible to even change genders. But then a mutual friend between me and my trans one (who is now my roommate) explained to me in a car ride I still remember vividly about what testosterone does to your body. Bit of a side note, but the ‘micro phalus’ thing was something I straight didn’t believe and OH BOY LMAOOOO.

Anyway, with that information now tumbling around on my mind... I accepted my friend and continued to ignore my obvious feelings!

Life marched on. I sunk in to gaming addiction, depression, and repression. I think I first tried to kill my self when I was 20 years old. I had quit my job thanks to a car crash I got in to and sunk in to doing absolutely nothing but playing MMOs for months. Eventually I just convinced myself there was no possible way my life could anything meaningful or productive. I had a fairly unhelpful stay in a mental hospital. I got out, got a job at the Denver zoo as a janitor.

I coasted for a few years there. That job taught me a lot. People skills, how to work hard, how to care about the future... And one of my coworkers was a trans man. We didn’t talk much about his transition. Mostly we just talked about cool things at work and how shitty customers were.

I think that kind of interaction was so important to me. To everyone, him being trans was just natural. No one cared and he seemed pretty happy.

With that information I started to do a bit of research on my own. I’m not sure how many months of consideration I had before coming out subtly to my current roommate in a car.

At the time, pondering coming out to everyone around me and having to confront my body every day in mirrors I cleaned for a living became a sort of hell. I worked the 4am shift and had no one to talk to for the entire duration of my work day, leaving me with lots of time to watch videos and think. I mean I mentally battled myself to the point I was in a lot of pain. So I started taking pain killers, mood stabilizers, drinking, and smoking weed in excess. Since I worked in the dark alone, no one would know how fucked up I was. The primary wrench in me finally accepting my own needs was again that feeling of hopelessness. The process of transition seemed so intimidating. It’s expensive. It will take effort. What if I fuck this or that up?

Early 2017, I tried to kill myself again after months of tormenting myself. I remember when they put me in the ICU and asked for my name, I told them Mike instead of my now dead name. The nurses asked if I had a pronoun preference and I just couldn’t say anything at all. But the chart whiteboad hanging on the wall in front of my bed said “Mike’s”. Everyone who came to visit me saw this. In a way, I had forced myself to come out. My stay in the mental hospital provided the same information as the last, but this time I was more ready to accept it.

One of the exercises we did was write plans for the future. Before, I had left it blank. But this time? I had goals. One of them was to come out officially in a far less destructive fashion. My dad seemed to accept it but not fully support. Due to family tensions that were somewhat unrelated to coming out, I ended up moving out in Late September 2018.

Soon everyone in my personal life knew. I got laid off with my entire department at the zoo. I remember coming out to some of my coworkers based on how religious they were the last day. My next job, I introduced myself as Mike and even got a name tag.

At the end of 2018 I started on hormones after a battle to get ahold of a doctor. Since then, I’ve been a lot happier.

I’ve lost over 100lbs and started working out.

I’m currently working the highest paying job I’ve ever had.

I’m living in an apartment with people I really care about.

The people I keep around me accept my pronouns and are proud of me coming out.

I’ve grown a mustache I love so much I can’t bare to shave it.

The power of self actualization

In every respect, coming out and presenting myself in exactly the way I want to has improved my life. For me that included medically transitioning. It’s like I finally have something to look forward to. All the little changes make me excited and more confident in what I like every day.

Even minor things like clothing are now these exciting vehicles of self expression. I never used to buy things I liked since my parents controlled what I was and was not aloud to wear. And even when I got my own money, those standards forced upon me by Mormonism held me back. Every pay check has more meaning when I’m replacing the old life that I hated so much. I seriously love this tiger shirt I got.

I’m proud to tell people I’m trans because finally admitting to myself has improved my life and mental health and unimaginable degree. I went from wanting to die basically at all times to having excitement for what comes next. I’m enjoying activities that I never would have before. Going to gay bars and dancing has been so enriching for me and I absolutely never would have done that before when I was all angry and bristly.

Being trans can be such a possitive experience. It’s freedom. It’s being able to live your life comfortably.

I know there are a lot of people who don’t understand or don’t want to because of their upbringing... and if you are one of those people who managed to read all this, please know they if you’re anti-trans, you’re anti-freedom of expression, anti-mental health, and anti-social.

Coming out was like removing a clog from my life. I’ve FINALLY been able to start living. And that’s something I want people to know about me. I felt dead before I changed my name and pronouns.

By the way. I’m Mike. He/him. 25. And I’m not going to try and kill my self ever again because I’m enjoying my big trans life.👌

#long post #trans #transgender #pride #trans pride #guess this is my new years post #HAPPY NEW YEARS

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promiseimnotacop · 5 years

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let's go about this a different way: pick your fave ten questions from the trans journey ask game and answer them!

bold of you to assume I’ve ever managed to make a decision in my life. also warning this gonna be looooooong

from this ask game

1. How did you choose your name?

so I’ve always been interested in names and a couple years before i ever came out to anyone I asked my mum casually if there were any other names she’d considered giving me. She said that Finn or Finnbar were up there had I “”been born a boy”” and so I latched on to that. It worked pretty well for me because I wanted something that felt like an equivalent exchange for my birthname and that I didn’t associate strongly with a particular individual and I’d never had a Finn in my year at school so that was all hunky dory. Took me a while longer to figure out middle names (because my birthname has two middle names and it’s sort of a tradition on my dad’s side so I wanted to have those).

There was a hot minute when I considered calling myself “Hugo Finn” which I’m so glad I didn’t, not that it is objectively a bad name, but because my reasoning was erm....bad. It was at a time when I had a lot of internalised self hatred/disgust and the name Hugo I first came across and associated heavily with the morally ambiguous “freak” from ASOUE. At the time I thought using a name I associated so heavily with the word freak was a way of subverting negative feelings but tbh it wasn’t. I’m so glad I didn’t tether myself that negativity.

Also fun fact, my birthname is Shakespearean protagonist who spends most of the play dressed as a boy so again for a hot second I considered using the name she does, Fidele, but I wasn’t about having a super conspicuously uncommon name.

For middle names in the end I went for James Lee (though nothing is legal or set in stone feedback and opinions are welcome lol). Lee came first, after the river in my village that I have a lot of postive memories associated with, outside of all the gender bullshit. The problem then became that the name “Finn Lee” would sound like/get mistaken for “Finley” and “Finnbar Lee” would sound like “Finn Barley” which would be eccentric and confusing. So it needed a buffer. In the end I went for James, partly because the first middle name of my given name is a saint, but mostly because James can be Jim and that allows for some of my childhood nicknames (im jim jam, imbo jimbo) to sort of still apply. that was a long answer to a short question lol but I spent a lot of time thinking about this because for some reason I felt like I couldn’t come out until I’d already settled on a full name.

3. Do you have more physical dysphoria or more social dysphoria?

I don’t think they’re separable. I have dysphoria about my body but it is because of societal perceptions of my body

8. How would you explain your gender identity to others?

depends on how savvy that person is to trans jargon honestly. The best, if clunky, label I’ve found for my gender is “transmasculine non-binary” which is two different quite broad umbrella terms lol. I like the looseness of it. For me personally, it means that the framework of masculinity and maleness is not an exact fit and does not cover some of the complexities of my gender but, in my daily interactions it is a close enough approximation and I do desire to pursue parts of what might be considered a “trans masculine” medical transition. For the most part masculine coded language (including he/him pronouns) is what suits me the best, with only a few particular exceptions. So, for most of the world I am functionally “a man” (even though that is one of the few bits of masculine coded language I don’t gel with), or maybe “a gender non-conforming man” and I am not gonna split hairs about that if we aren’t close.

But if we’re seriously getting into a chat about gender there’s a lot more to be said. If drawing a diagram of my gender I would say I’m about 55% male, 30% “other”/third gender/maverique/genderqueer/whatever you want to call a gender identity autonomous and seperate from male or female, and 15% nothing/void. And all of that is subject to fluctuate a bit and which parts I might connect with most can be slightly contextual. I am more “a man” than anything else but also pretending to be a binary man is cutting out a significant part.

12. Do you pass?

Let’s unpack the most Problematique question lol. Just kidding. It is important to acknowledge how “passing” or not effects daily safety/experiences but....god can we not use that word? Can that not be the agreed upon term? The implication that you are otherwise “failing”? The way in which it is incredibly difficult to apply to no-binary people? The way it does not acknowledge the nuances and the way that being read as a certain gender can be conditional?

I prefer to use the terms “read as” because it allows for more nuanced discussion, does not have moralistic implications, puts the onus on the people viewing - not the individual being viewed and is kinda intuitive to understand.

To answer the question though? For the most part (like maybe 80% of the time) I am read as male. By no means always, and it is conditional on me following a certain level of gender conformity, but for the most part I interact with the world being addressed as a guy. As someone who is very much pre-t it seems that this alone subverts the standard “trans narrative”. Hell I was mostly read as male for a while before I ever came out. I’ve been corrected and laughed at in the women’s bathrooms. I’ve been harassed for gender nonconformity not in spite of but because I was wearing “girl’s” uniform. I have had fellow trans people assume I was a cis man (on more than one occasion) even when I introduced myself by my very much feminine birthname. I have little kids point blank refuse to believe I am “a girl”. I have had strangers confront and correct my mum for addressing me with she/her pronouns (before I was out). I have had kids yell the T slur at me (before I had begun to learn the invisible rules - which to be totally clear are bullshit -that need to be followed in order to be more consistently and unerringly read as male). I’ve been read as male occasionally in contexts where it was impossible for me to be out (near strangers on holiday whilst using birthname, new teachers and students at a school i’d been at since I was 11 and worn “girl’s uniform” until 16, etc).

It’s by no means always though. Which makes the times I don’t difficult and awkward. The technician on my course refers to me with feminine language but none of my tutors. The other day I tried out wearing eye shadow to class and I guy I bumped into later said that he hadn’t recognised me because it made me look like a girl (cringe). etc.

17. What do you do when you have to go to the bathroom in public?

haha i don’t go. I literally haven’t been to the men’s bathroom (apart from once on holiday) but also i get harassed in the women’s/get directed towards the men’s so.....here’s to hoping I don’t get a UTI lads. Literally been in a public loos once since June (not including holiday abroad) and then i nipped into the disabled one during shark week.

19. Would you ever go stealth, and if you are stealth, why do you choose to be stealth?

so at the beginning of uni I sort of tried to go stealth to see if I could/if it was comfortable (and by go stealth I mostly mean I just didn’t openly talk about my trans-ness for a while). I didn’t wanna be known as ‘the trans one’ and so i didn’t want to introduce myself with that fact. It fucking sucked would not recommend 0/10. It’s incredibly lonely-making to try and filter your experiences and to not be able to discuss certain issues with anyone irl.

32. How do you see yourself identifying and presenting in 5 years?

I used to do this thing when I was feeling particularly dysphoric/hopeless where I would draw myself now, and myself in 5 years time. Help construct something to look forward to, and work out what I would sincerely like to wear/express but don’t due to dysphoria. For me I really want to get to a place where I am comfortable in androgyny. I want to grow my hair out without sacrificing being read as male. I want to wear long skirts and crop tops whilst still being read and understood as a guy. I’ve done a lot of self reflection and I don’t think I can get to the place of being comfortable until I have had top surgery and I might also require T (though top surgery is really the necessity for my day to day life). Fingers crossed that will be possible and slightly healed within 5 years but given the NHS it really is not certain.

39. Is your ideal partner also trans, or do you not have a preference?

T4T is self care. Jk. Honestly probably but that’s not to say a cis person couldn’t be my ideal partner? like at any rate it’s fucking necessary that my partner fully understands/perceives me to not be a woman. They could just be cis and no. 1 ally but in all likeliness they’re probably gonna be trans (particularly given the number trans and/or nb cuties out there)

40. How did/do you manage waiting to transition?

I’m not managing. Send help.

seriously every week I have a break down about how long NHS wait times are.

42. Do you interact with other trans people IRL?

I’m an art student in Brighton. Yes.

(Also my sibling Sumner is an NB lesbian, and my childhood best friend Hunter is NB).

Literally going to be one cis person in my house of six next year.

#rockintwink

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ravioli-cats · 7 years

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okay I just need to vent.

okay so I'm on an alternative spring break trip and it's really fun and good for the most part. I really love that I'm around people so much and that I get a lot of attention and that my time is filled like I'm always busy pretty much. But there are some things I'm feeling that I don't like so much. 1) there's one site we are volunteering at that (even tho they are an LGBT organization), I feel pretty uncomfortable at because they keep saying transphobic stuff and my interactions with the people that work at the organization just don't feel comfortable at all. 2) I love being able to be funny and goofy and myself but after the fact like when I lay in bed at night and think about it I feel so self conscious and like everyone on the trip actually hates me and thinks I'm annoying and complaining too much and it makes me want to just withdraw and not say anything but if I did that I would feel like shit so I just don't know what to do or how to act. I really like being around these people and they feel safe to be silly around but I always get doubts and that makes me question not only the people on this trip but also my friends back at school. Do they really like me or do they just tolerate me, ya know? I feel like I'm just so annoying and needy for attention and it makes me feel guilty and unloved and I even know that these thoughts aren't rational but I still feel it. It makes me either want to change my behavior and act like I did in high school when I was quiet and boring and miserable and wouldn't talk to people or try to be silly or friendly because I was sure everyone hated me anyway. It's so much better to just be able to be myself: crazy and silly and complains a lot and loves people and cares about people so fucking much. I just want to love everyone. I want to say I love you to everyone because I feel so good when I interact with people and guilty at the same time because I feel like I'm not good enough for them and that everyone is better than me so much so that I want to praise everyone. Everyone on my trip: I love you. All of my friends back at school: I love you. Etc. Like,,,,, I feel like it's weird but feeling connected to people is the only time I feel happy. Which leads me to 3) I don't want the trip to end. I feel like when this is over I'm going to be so lonely again. I shouldn't feel hopeless and depressed when I'm alone but I do, so so much. On this trip I have to many opportunities to be myself and connect with people in genuine ways because I am with people that I get along with pretty much 24/7 with very little alone time. And the thing is I KNOW that I can't be around people constantly. I feel the stress being here and not being able to be alone and I don't like it, but I think being around people constantly does more good than harm for me (depending on the people) because it makes me feel safe and cared about and feel like I have the ability to interact with people if I want to. When the trip is over I'm going to go home to school and be alone again most of the time. I'm going to feel that same feeling of feeling unloved and isolated and vulnerable, vulnerable in the sense that I'm not able to be myself with other people, not able to see my existence validated. When I'm alone I feel almost inhuman, like I don't really exist almost. When I am able to be myself around people and they react in a positive way I feel,,,, loved,,,,, valid,,,, empowered,,,, happy,,,, safe,,,,and real...human. I hate that I feel this way because it is too needy. I shouldn't need to be interacting with people to feel real, but I do. I think that for so long when I was in middle and high school I felt like I didn't even really exist. I spent every day going through the motions and trying to be unseen because I felt so worthless and insignificant. I felt nothing for so long and even tho I was alive I wasn't really existing. I would go through the day and not feel anything except empty, like I didn't belong anywhere or was allowed to really enjoy my life. When I went on trips for debate where I got to be myself and socialize with people I trusted is one of the only times when I would feel good. I feel like not much has changed. I only feel good when I'm hanging out with any of the people from my group of friends from school (especially a select few), or when I go to my trans support group and can be myself and socialize, or now on this trip with the people I'm with. I love feeling good and feeling happy when I am with people but it almost like I can't enjoy it to the fullest because I have SO MUCH self loathing and because I know it is going to end and I'm going to be lonely and feel like shit constantly when I go back to school. I just hate that I'm like this and that my dad and family and early life experiences fucked me up so much like this because I just want to be happy so badly and I know what it feels like but I feel like I'm just never going to get there. It just makes me kinda want to die. Like legitimately. I know most people would just say "oh just look forward to the next time you will get to feel good" but it doesn't work like that. The times when I am able to interact with people and feel good are not often enough to where I feel like the good times come enough to counteract the bad. Instead of looking forward to the good times I feel like I yearn for them like a starving person yearns for food, and while I am in the good times I am so anxious and depressed about the good times ending that I can't enjoy them fully. I just wish I was normal. My brain is so fucked up. Yet another reason I'm afraid I deserve to be so lonely. I'm too depressed and complicated. I SHOULD die because I'm a burden since I need so much attention and validation and I feel like dying would be less painful than my shitty depressing life with my fucked up brain and no one to talk about all this with other than the non-listening people of tumblr. Tbh I know this is so fucking long no one is going to read it but if anyone does and wants to talk to me please do because all this shit hurts so much and thinking about this stuff is the one thing that actually makes me cry in relation to myself. Like I can cry at emotional things happen externally from myself but not for myself. Except for this. I literally hate my life. Sorry about the rambling now onto the next thing. 4) this spring break trip is about LGBT awareness and one of the sites we are working at is a drop in center that provides services for LGBT people in detroit, ages 13-30. It's honestly so depressing and it keeps making me think about (as terrible as it sounds) how much I hate being trans. Living life as LGBT (esp trans or if you have an marginalized intersecting identity like race, class, ethnicity, ability status, immigration status etc.) is sooooo fucking hard. I feel like the government doesn't care about me at all and that's probably true tbh. beyond that though working at this site has also brought to my attention how much it sucks when your family doesn't accept you as an LGBT person, because the site mostly deals with homeless youth that got kicked out of their homes or had to leave because they weren't accepted and didn't feel safe. Not to make this about me because I know a lot of people, including the people that use the drop in center/shelter site I'm volunteering at, have it worse than me, but I have it hard too. I really don't want to go back to my hometown over this coming summer because I don't want to see my dad and I don't really want to live at home with my mom either. It's just so hard to be trans (aka MYSELF) around my family because they have such a hard time with it and it's so awkward and I truthfully don't feel safe and validated there. But I don't really have many other choices. I can't really afford to stay at college and work or take classes and even if I did I would be so fucking lonely that I honestly might die (see the whole long thing I did in number 3). I feel so trapped and unsafe and like I have no options and control over my life. Like, I know my mom and my sister and even my moms boyfriend care about me a lot, and I care about them, but I don't feel like I can stand to live there. Especially with my grandpa there, I really don't feel safe around him at all. I just don't know what to do. And I feel so stressed constantly about my dad. I feel like I have to tell him I'm trans AT SOME POINT like he will have to know eventually and I'm so so so so so so so so scared about it honestly it terrifies me more than almost anything. I honestly don't know if I could handle his reaction, because I dont really see it being positive. Even if he were to be fine with it there will never ever ever be a point where he would be able to address me in the way I want, just like I'm not sure that will ever happen with most of my extended family. I feel like I am hurting my family by being trans tbh. And I also feel like I am hurting myself and that's why I hate it. There are so many good things about being trans like being able to be myself and be COMFORTABLE being myself. Getting on hormones has been one of the greatest things. I actually feel so much more comfortable in my own skin and that makes me happier sometimes, but most of the time I still feel like shit. That's because there is still so much I feel uncomfortable about. My hips are too big, my chest is too big, I'm too fat, I'm too ugly, my voice goes higher sometimes, I don't always pass, my hair looks bad (although this is less of an issue since I've realized I'm trans and started transitioning and had short hair I usually love my hair but am still sometimes self conscious about it not looking right or male enough (which I know is stupid but it's how I feel) ), my nails grow too fast and are always too long, my face looks feminine, I have ~breasts~ that I will never be able to afford top surgery for and ~female genitalia~ that make it so I will never find an actual gay man that I love that will love me back (also because of all of my other l trans related body issues a guy will never love me ). My dsyphoria is so bad whenever I go to class or leave my apartment, or even when I'm in my apartment and certain people that I feel like I need to impress or pass for are there. It's also worse when I am in places where I am prone to be misgendered like when I'm at ~home~ with my family, or in class or out literally anywhere in public where people don't know me. Especially because I don't feel safe being trans. I don't feel safe going out in public not passing. I don't think I will be physically harmed but I'm so afraid that I will be misgendered like I actually was on this trip by people AT AN LGBT ORGANIZATION. it hurt so much and now being at that site and being on this trip with the people from my school that I'm doing this with I feel more dysphoria and more like I need to be extra masculine in order for my identity to be valid. Especially with the current political climate and everything that is happening in this world I just don't feel safe and valid so much of the time, even when I'm in places where I should feel safe and valid. like a few weeks ago in my one class where we had to read an article by a TERF and talk about it on an online discussion forum. People in my class were agreeing with and sympathizing with the TERF and it honestly felt so shitty. Not because I felt insecure about my identity, I'm not. I know I'm trans. I am a man. I am a man. I know I am a man. Nothing will change me being a man. It felt shitty because it just adds to me feeling so unloved. Unloved by my dad, unloved by my peers, unloved by society. I'm lonely and unloved. People hate me for being trans. People hate me for being myself, which is just so depressing for me because I LOVE people so much, as I've said before. I think people are beautiful and amazing and I don't understand how other people function and I loved how diverse people are. I love love love love so much my heart is so full of love and I feel like I dont get enough back. Instead I get constant messages of people invalidating my existence when they misgender me, or when the fuckhead president trump and republican fuckheads in office demonstrate just how much they don't care about trans kids/people. I just want to be loved. I want to be cared for because I care about people so fucking much and I give so much. I don't want to sound entitled but it think it deserve it. I love how it feels to be validated and to be loved and to feel happy. I want it more. I don't like feeling invalid, inhuman, unloved and even hated. I really really don't like it. Aside from all the things I've talked about above there are so many other things that make being trans so hard for me. Binding. One thing that helps me feel a little safer. A little more valid. A little more okay with my body. Currently all of my binders are broken. They don't work like they should. I am not as flat as I want to be. It makes me so self conscious and dysphoric every day. And wearing the binder hurts so much. On this trip I have been wearing it like 13-15 hours a day because I'm not even explicitly out to most of the people on this trip. And I am so sore. I've been doing a lot of physical work and I know wearing my binder for so long and doing physical work is not good for my body. I think though that the emotional and mental pain I would get from not wearing it would be much worse. If I could, I would even wear it to sleep because I am sleeping around all these people (tbh most of them are in the LGBT community and alllll of them are sympathetic to the issues because we are on a service learning trip to help LGBT people and learn more about LGBT issues, but I still don't feel comfortable enough. The only people I don't always wear my binder around on a regular basis are my roommate, her boyfriend because he's always over and I can't really avoid it and a person probably my closest friend at school because we are so much alike as she is such a great and supportive friends that I feel reallly extremely safe around) that I get along with very well but I still am so dysphoric that I don't feel comfortable enough with to not wear my binder. It make me sleep worse at night. I am so worried that someone will notice me more while I am sleeping or something. But I bind pretty much constantly when I'm not sleeping, at least while I'm on this alternative spring break, and it hurts. My body wants me to give up I think. I have to do my hormone shot in the morning and I'm really nervous about it because I'm on this spring break trip and not home. There is only 1 bathroom and 20 people staying at this place we are st so it's not feasible for me to do my shot in the bathroom so I'll have to find another spot to do it and it just makes me so self conscious and I feel guilty about it because I feel like if I were cis I wouldn't have to be such a bother about it and idk it's not really logical but it makes me feel some type of way and I'm not excited about it. Another thing I'm not happy about with being trans on this trip specifically is that since we are an LGBT awareness group and it's a service learning trip about LGBT issues and I'm the only trans person on the group I feel obligated to educate the others in the group. Even worse is that since I'm not even technically out to all of them (even though they probably know because I'm not sure how well I pass) it feels more awkward to be the one person that knows so much about trans issues AND having to talk about trans people as if it is a Group that im not in and feeling unable to share how my experiences impact me in relation to the volunteer work we are doing/experiences we/I are having and in relAtion to just me being trans in and of itself. Like, I want them to know about trans issues and benefit from the trip and understand trans issues better in general but i really hate that trAns people are always having to teach people and advocate for themselves. I am on this trip and doing work to help a community that I'm a part of because most of the time people outside of the community don't care enough to do the work and it fucking sucks. Having to "be political" constantly because my identity is political and feeling like I have to advocate for myself constantly and in more ways than cis people do is exhausting and hard to deal with on top of all of the other shit I'm going through. Part of that shit is that my name hasn't been changed yet and that my gender marker isn't changed yet. I forget about it until I get to work and my coworkers call me she and my old name and I see my old name everywhere, on the computer screen, on the shelfs of movies. I forget about it until I have to pay for something with my credit or debit card and I have to sign my legal name. I forget about it until I tell people that my roommate is a girl and when people assume I'm a cis male (aka when I pass) that confuses them and sometimes causes them to misgender me or it causes me to out myself. It is so frustrating and exhausting and just not fun at all. I laugh so much about every terrible situation I'm in and make it off to not be a big deal. Like when I was misgendered on the trip and I mentioned it to the group I laughed and swept it under the rug and shrugged it off and said that it was fine, but it really wasn't. It really doesn't feel fine and I don't feel fine about being at that site in the space where I was misgendered and being around people that keep saying problematic, invalidating, transphobic things. It really really really doesn't feel good and honestly I just want to be held and loved. But instead of saying that I laughed and didn't talk about it because I don't want to out myself and I don't want to be a burden to the people in this group that I'm on a trip with. My feelings aren't important enough to be talked about at length. But all this laughing things off is really starting to take a toll on me I think because I really really really really just want to talk to someone about all of this stuff and I can't avoid it anymore it's building up and if I continue to keep it all to myself I am going to have some sort of breakdown. I could talk about all of this with my therapist. Or about some of it with my group that I'm on this alternative spring break trip with. Or some of it with a friend. But my biggest fear is that I will let it all out like I'm doing now but in an actual conversation and people either won't care or just won't know what to do or how to help me. If I keep it inside I can maybe hold on to the hope that it can be fixed and all these irrational thoughts and feelings can go away but if I let it all out and nothing can be done to fix me or to help me that I would be so so broken. I think it would just take every ounce of hope I have left in me. I don't know if I could go on to be perfectly honest. I want so so desperately to talk about all of this stuff but I'm too afraid to. I really feel like most people don't care and the ones that do can't do anything to help me. I really feel like a lost cause. I'm am so lost and distraught with my life. Ive been holding in all of my thoughts since I was little partly because I was too afraid to talk to my dad when I was little. And then when I got older I was too afraid to talk to anyone. And then I high school whenever I tried to talk about something important (or even things that aren't important) to one of my friends, I always felt like I got talked over or ignored in favor of someone else or something else more important than me. I feel like I have never been anyone's favorite (other than my mom I suppose) person or favorite friend and that hurts too. It makes it that much harder for me to interact with people in casual ways let alone in significant ways. I don't know what to do. I guess just get up tomorrow and do my testosterone shot and take a shower and get dressed and interact with people and try to have fun and try not to think too much. Thinking hurts. Feeling hurts. I'm crying good thing everyone is asleep. No one will read this. As it should be probably. fuck my life.

#i'm having a really bad night #and I'm probably being dramatic #but this long ass post #is literally everything that is bothering me currently and most of the stuff that gets me down on a regular basis #I'm honestly so not okay #i wanna d*e #no one will read this tho it's fine 🙃#I really wish I could kill myself #it would be easier than dealing with all the thoughts that are in my head constantly #this long post is most of it but not all of it #I feel like I'm going insane #holding all this inside constantly #I'm going to break soon #and it won't be pretty #I'm a horrible person

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