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sayleeofkanto · 6 years

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Pride Month Day 26

((Hey so while the rest of the oneshots for the month are about the Keyleeverse, this one’s different. For Questioning day, I wrote about me. This one’s behind a cut because it’s hella personal, hella long and has trigger warnings for internalized homophobia, external homophobia, a brief whizzby mention of suicidal ideation and some mental illness stuff))

You love hockey day, not so much for the sport itself but for being part of the team. None of your bullies are on the team, and girls who generally ignore you actually notice you, treat you like one of them. It’s almost like having friends.

The changing room is hell, though.

Focus on the wall and changing your own clothes, don’t look around, especially don’t look at her, even though your ears are attuned to every word she says and in class you can’t stop staring at her beautiful hair and her amazing skin that’s darker than all the other peely-wally Scots around here and never gets any spots and her super pretty smile--Don’t look!

What are you, some kinda creepy lesbo? Gross.

You’re not. You’re Team Jacob, right? Can’t be some gross lesbo if you like Taylor Lautner’s abs and arms (pecs are a bit weird though).

You can’t stop wanting to look at her.

Don’t look.

~~~

The Doctor going to World War II is so cool. You’re clutching a pillow to hide behind in case the creepy kid in the gas mask comes back, but you’re rapt as you watch the Doctor and Rose reunite and meet Jack and they have such easy camraderie and--

JACK: There it is. Hey, they've got Algy on duty. It must be important. DOCTOR: We've got to get past him. ROSE: Are the words “distract the guard” heading in my general direction? JACK: I don't think that'd be such a good idea. ROSE: Don't worry, I can handle it. JACK: I've got to know Algy quite well since I've been in town. Trust me, you're not his type. I'll distract him. Don't wait up. DOCTOR: Relax, he's a fifty first century guy. He's just a bit more flexible when it comes to dancing. ROSE: How flexible? DOCTOR: Well, by his time, you lot have spread out across half the galaxy. ROSE: Meaning? DOCTOR: So many species, so little time. ROSE: What, that's what we do when we get out there? That's our mission? We seek new life, and, and... DOCTOR: Dance.

Jack likes men too? Likes both?

That’s allowed?

The Doctor seems to think it’s fine. Says it’s normal in the future, even.

It’s okay to like both.

~~~

“John Barrowman’s gay, you know,” your mum says. “It was obvious he was a great actor as soon as he came out, because he’d been kissing women onstage and looking like he liked it!”

Have your parents ever talked about gay people before? It’s a surprise to hear. But they seem to be okay with it.

~~~

Wait, SesshoMaru’s a man?

He’s your first ever anime crush a short while after. You keep having to explain to people who see the printouts you stick to your jotters that he’s a man.

~~~

You find the Esmeralda figurine while cleaning out your cupboard. You’ve never seen The Hunchback of Notre Dame in full, because it always terrified you too much, but you’ve always loved Esmeralda. For a long time, you carried this figurine with you everywhere you went, this cheap little plastic thing of her in that red dress from the scene where she dances.

You put it on your desk. It’s still really pretty.

You see the movie in full for the first time when you’re nineteen and--was she POLEDANCING?!

~~~

Kurama’s a man too?!

All of your anime crushes are very beautiful, feminine-looking men. This probably doesn’t mean anything.

~~~

One of your online friends sends you a slashfic she really likes. You’re shocked to see that it’s rated K. But slash is all M-rated, stuff you have to lie to FFnet about your age to read with flaming cheeks and frantic looks over your shoulder in case your parents came home early, until you lose your nerve and skim past the dirtiest bits. How can this be slash?

It’s about Shinichi and Kaito, lots of little oneshots, some only a couple hundred words long. They hold hands and eat ice cream and watch movies and kiss, sometimes, and that’s it. They’re so cute and funny and sweet and…

Not dirty. Just like a normal relationship.

~~~

You’ve never imagined your wedding day. One of these days you’ll do everybody a favour and kill yourself, so it’s not like you’ll live long enough to see it.

~~~

You suck up sweet, fluffy M/M fics like oxygen. You’ve never seen an F/F fic.

~~~

No, Mum, I don’t have a boyfriend, I was walking with A. You know A. He’s… he’s gay.

Of course you already knew that.

No, I don’t have a boyfriend.

You don’t really want a boyfriend. Dating sounds stressful. You’re happy enough with your friends, now that you have some, you tight-knit band of Weird Kids who hide in the library all lunchtime and make plans to go see the next Harry Potter movie together or spend the weekend at somebody’s house watching movies and playing Mario Kart until 5am while eating too much pizza and drinking smuggled vodka in fizzy drinks. If you mix vodka and Irn Bru, you definitely won’t get a hangover, honest.

You’re too scared to ask a girl out. She’d think you’re gross.

~~~

Over the next decade, every single one of the weird kids will turn out to be gay, bi, or trans [i]and[/i] gay. Birds of a feather boa, K says with a laugh at age 24.

~~~

All the outfit options for female sims are just plain better. And the hair options. The faces are better, too. You have a whole neighbourhood that’s just ladies, who married ladies, because you can do that in the sims, and adopted girls, because then you don’t need any guys around.

You find this save data while transferring computers and, on a nostalgic whim, re-installing Sims 2 at age 21. You are stunned that you ever convinced yourself that this was a heterosexual way to play a video game.

~~~

P!nk’s been your favourite musician since you were 13. Amusingly, it was Conversations With My 13-Year-Old Self that made you realize how much she speaks to you. Now, after years of loving her music, her acrobatic performances, you’re going to see her live.

You keep staring at women in the crowd. Women wearing denim jackets, and button-up shirts with the sleeves rolled up, and short hair. “Look at all these dykes,” your cousin, who drove you here, scoffs.

You think they look great.

~~~

You want to travel before you go to university, so you cut your hair off and donate it to charity to raise money. You haven’t had it short since you were born, and you lose two and a half feet. You can’t stop running your hands over the back of it, spiking up the newly-short strands.

You love it.

~~~

While you’re in India, your parents phone and ask if A can stay in your room. His grandparents kept telling him to kill himself so he left home instead. You have them give the phone to him and ask him to take good care of your books and tell him that he’s okay, he’s a good person, he’s a good friend, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.

There’s nothing wrong with being gay.

Have you ever said that aloud before?

~~~

Monstrous Regiment is one of the books you brought with you. You lose count of how often you reread it. It isn’t explicitly stated, but Tonker and Lofty are definitely in love.

It makes you happy, to see women who love women on the Discworld. You start another reread.

~~~

There’s an anime society at your new university. The captain’s got a gross amount of lolicon anime on his hard drive and doesn’t like letting anybody else pick what to watch, so mostly you and a couple of other girls (women, you’re at university, you can legally drink now, you’re women now, right?) end up mocking whatever creepy shit he puts up together, complaining about the unrealistic proportions of the anime women.

“Any more than a handful’s a waste,” the nursing student scoffs. She’s a lesbian. She’s also Irish, and very much not out to her family.

You like her secretly, and keep it that way.

~~~

The Pride parade goes right past your new job, and on your lunch break, too. You watch them go by, all the flags, all the colours, everybody so happy and brave and defiant and proud.

There’s a wankstain with a megaphone in front of Parliament, yelling about how they’re all going to Hell for having sex outside of marriage.

“LET US GET MARRIED, THEN!” the crowd yells, and keeps dancing.

~~~

Your mother’s side of the family don’t like this uncle much. You join them wholeheartedly when he starts talking about conversion therapy, how kids who “think” they’re gay are “sick”, and need “help”--

He has to be hustled out to his car and told to go home early because you can’t stop shouting at him to shut the fuck up, there’s nothing wrong with those kids, how fucking dare he advocate their torture, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, being gay is beautiful--

You’ve never said that before, but you feel it wholeheartedly.

~~~

You work Saturdays and Sundays, so you can never go to Pride. You make yourself a bracelet in purple, pink and blue, the bi colours, and never take it off. It makes you feel a little braver, even if most people who see it won’t think the colours mean anything.

~~~

Your brother’s in America so the two of you set up a video call to watch the Legend of Korra finale together, and it’s amazing, mindblowing animation, incredible story, and you crack some jokes about how Asami and Korra have been for the past couple seasons. It’s a cartoon, so obviously they’d never actually be allowed to hook up, but it’s fun to imagine. The queerbaiting gets a little tiring, maybe. You’ve just learned what queerbaiting is. It’s why Dean and Cas will never kiss onscreen even though they SHOULD.

Then Asami and Korra talk and man, this keeps getting gayer. And gayer. And

They hold hands, and look into each other’s eyes, and it’s the final shot of the show, an undeniable mirror of the finale shot of The Last Airbender right before Aang and Katara kiss, and Asami and Korra don’t kiss, but Bryan Konietzko’s online right nowstressing that KORRASAMI IS REAL and they would’ve kissed if the network had let them

And then your phone’s ringing because you’re crying so hard that you dropped your laptop and didn’t notice and your brother’s worried, and you can’t stop crying, you’re so happy.

You’re so happy.

~~~

“They’re for real lesbians. They actually SAY they’re in love!”

You immediately put on the first episode of Steven Universe.

~~~

You run into your chiropractor at Pride with her wife. They’re wearing rainbow flags and wedding rings and big smiles. She’s been looking after your fucked-up feet since you were eight and you never knew. Of course, she’s under no obligation to tell her patients about her personal life, but.

You could’ve known all along that this was what a lesbian looked like, this kind, funny, successful, professional woman.

~~~

Holy shit, there are female romance options in this game that you can romance while female.

Why are they all so much more attractive than the male options?

~~~

Your group is doing Huis Clos for your end of year performance and you’re Ines. You don’t normally like makeup but you love doing up your hair and eyes and red lipstick and silk blouse and striding onstage in heels to mock Joseph and Estelle for refusing to admit that they’re in Hell and deserve to be, to talk proudly about how you murdered your cousin and seduced his wife, to try to seduce Estelle and laugh when she can’t kill you

By third year you’re joking that your acting resume is going to be all men and lesbians.

~~~

Yes, this is the third time I’ve watched The Devil Wears Prada this week. I have essays to work on, and it’s a comfort watch, y’know?

I dunno. Meryl Streep’s really good in it. I mean, Miranda’s an awful person, but she’s so powerful that you end up liking her anyway, y’know? She’s mesmerising.

~~~

Who the hell cancelled Agent Carter? Supernatural has a thousand seasons and not one single scene of Hayley Atwell in a gorgeous retro suit beating the teeth out of somebody with the nearest thing she can grab.

You most definitely have a type

~~~

No, being bisexual does not mean that you’re gay and scared to admit it.

You have this conversation a lot.

~~~

People keep telling you to get a Japanese boyfriend to teach you. There must be better reasons to have a boyfriend. Do you even want a boyfriend, really?

~~~

Why the fuck did nobody ever tip you off that Batman has an amazing lesbian cousin and where the fuck is her movie where she gets to make out with Anne Hathaway?!

~~~

Your friend is mocking her boyfriend having a gay panic over her asking him if he agrees that Idris Elba is attractive. Finding Idris Elba attractive doesn’t mean you’re gay, she scoffs, it just means you have eyes. You agree, laughing.

You don’t have to be attracted to men to see when they’re attractive.

~~~

Sure, Chris Pine is very pretty, especially when he’s naked. But Gal Gadot throwing an armoured car with her hands? That damn near physically knocks you out of your seat. You transcended your body around the time Wonder Woman went over the top but from the first moments in Themyscira your whole body’s been tingling and your higher brain functions have been DOWN. You’re shaking so hard when you come out of the cinema that you can barely use your railcard, and you can’t sleep until 5am, too busy crying from exhilaration and screaming about the movie to your brother.

Is that what attraction is always supposed to feel like? Something you’ve never felt for a woman in an impractical costume being cut up by the camera, or for any man, anywhere, ever, doing or wearing anything at all?

~~~

Tessa Thompson also tears apart armoured vehicles with her hands, and Cate Blanchett has this way of sweeping back her hair into a horned helmet, and who the fuck decided women over 30 aren’t sexy?!

You almost miss Chris Hemsworth’s shirtless scene entirely. It’s nice enough. You forget it entirely when Valkyrie gets behind that gun.

~~~

If you tell people you’re a lesbian now, they’re gonna think all bi women are just closeted lesbians.

~~~

But you remember how terrified you were that you were gay. And, a decade and a half later, you think: so what?

What if I was?

What if I am?

~~~

There is literally a neon rainbow sign over your boarding house, advertising the neon company next door. That is LITERALLY a sign, right there.

~~~

You think it, inside your head, trying the thought on for size.

I’m a lesbian.

You never knew you were suffocating until you took your first breath of air.

~~~

You have your first ever wedding fantasy at 25, and start crying in public over how beautiful your hypothetical bride looks in her dress.

~~~

Are you butch? Do you have to be butch to want to wear a waistcoat and kilt to your own wedding? This is a whole new avenue of exploration but also you so want your own kilt.

~~~

You tell your parents over video chat. They’re as supportive as you always knew they would be, but disappointed you don’t have a girlfriend.

You’ve gotta stay stealth if you want to keep your job. You’re in Japan, after all, and it’s been warned to new recruits to the company that the Japanese upper management are all very old-fashioned. If you lose your job, you could lose your visa. This is not presently actionable intel, just good to have.

But you don’t feel gross, or afraid. Just frustrated that you can’t scream it from the rooftops.

~~~

Your brother sends you some pictures of Gal Gadot in a suit for the two of you to thirst over together. He’s the best.

~~~

You actually sing Heaven Is A Place On Earth at karaoke and then your new coworker asks if you have a boyfriend.

Seriously.

~~~

Your manager is so damn pretty, but she’s Japanese. But she’s so damn pretty, and nice.

Don’t look.

Not because it’s gross. Because you want to keep your job.

~~~

Somebody describes Meryl Streep’s performance in The Devil Wears Prada as seductive and ah-ha. Of course. A powerful and influential businesswoman who has Anne Hathaway and Emily Blunt in nice outfits trailing her everywhere she goes. She goes to a ball halfway through the film with two beautiful young women on her arms. Lesbian power fantasy or WHAT?

You watch it again, and notice for the first time that after Andie’s makeover, when she turns to leave the office, Miranda checks out her ass.

~~~

You want to go back to your twelve-year-old self and give her Alex Danvers, and Kate Kane, and Tonker and Lofty, and Ruby and Sapphire, and Kate McKinnon, and J the chiropractor and her wife, and tell her: this is you.

You’re okay. You always were.

~~~

Oh, you are definitely buying one of those rainbow shirts at Disneyland.

~~~

There’s nothing wrong with you.

Your feet are still pretty fucked up, and so are your knees now, after all that sitting seiza, and your eyes have always been spitting distance from legally blind, and you still have that gut problem, and you’re 25 and still get acne, and your brain’s pretty messed up on anxiety and depression

But that’s all bits. There’s nothing wrong with you.

You are gay, in every sense of the word.

#pride create-a-thon 2018 #Day 26 #personal

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sweetandsavageautistic · 7 years

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(CW: Most Likely Emotional Abuse/Manipulation, Suicidal Ideation)

So I’m not sure if this whole thing with my family is legit because of events that ended less than a year ago.

Because I’m 95% certain I’ve been emotionally abused before. But it was by a “friend” of mine. I think I may have told you about her before, but I don’t know if I’ve told you the whole story.

(I really hope she doesn’t find this. She’s on tumblr, but I’m not gonna tell you the name because she doesn’t deserve that kind of publicity, I don’t want anyone sending hate her way because fighting fire with fire is a bad idea, and I’m scared she’ll find me again.)

So I moved school districts in seventh grade and, at my middle school, there was this girl in my Adv. English class. We didn’t talk much in middle school, but she seemed nice enough to me. Tall, light hair, pretty slim, dancer-type girl. Let’s call her Alana (I apologize to anyone who’s actually named Alana).

Like I said, Alana and I didn’t talk much in middle school, but the times we did talk, she seemed chill, laid-back, pretty Type-B personality. She was also into theatre and, in high school, we were both in drama and the speech team.

Fast-forward to junior year, around late January/early February, I was diagnosed with Persistent Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. There was another girl who, by this point, Alana and I were kinda mutual friends with. Let’s call her Misty. Misty had been in choir with me since freshman year and joined our high school theatre sophomore year; she was also on our school’s speech team. Misty and Alana had gotten incredibly close, to the point where they said that everyone’s a 3rd wheel when they’re together, even Misty’s boyfriend.

(Also, I’m pretty certain that the night we got kinda close, Alana told us that she sometimes fishes for compliments? IDK, just keep that in mind as you read on)

I got close to the two of them in early February and told them about my depression and anxiety. I’d never really had a friend group in my life, at least as far as I was concerned, so this was a first. But I was so scared to lose them, so I got a bit clingy, I guess, but especially to Misty. I mean yeah, that was kinda my bad, but I was also fairly suicidal at that point and I was looking for anything to stay afloat. I was having a terrible relationship with my family. And I hated myself so much. I was also in my very first AP course, which was probably not the best idea for my psyche (but it was kinda fun, though. Aside from the shit-ton of note taking and stress).

As junior and senior years went on, I began to notice that Alana and Misty rarely left each other’s side. Alana was really “protective” over Misty (but now that I look at it, it was more like elusively controlling). If I admitted I was jealous of her, even if I said I was still happy for Misty, Alana would tell me that I wasn’t allowed to say that.

Alana also joined choir in 12th grade, which Misty and I were both in and she auditioned for Chamber (she said that Chamber was the only small group she would accept). Also I know Misty was a really good actress, but the first time she auditioned for the student-run Shakespeare show, Alana was one of the directors and Misty got one of the leads.

I had confronted these girls about things they’d done that made me feel bad or left out, but either I didn’t have enough evidence to back it up or one of the times I told them I felt like they weren’t including me in conversations when I sat with them at lunch, they didn’t do shit to change it and Misty, who was kinda under Alana’s thumb at that point, told me I needed to speak up. But when I did, I still felt like I got ignored.

One of the red flags that should’ve lead me to the conclusion of emotional abuse was when we were coming back from a choir trip to NYC. I had an aisle seat which I was relieved to have because, on the flight to NYC, I had a window seat and had to pee really badly, but something about my bladder won’t let me pee on planes. So when we landed, I wanted to get out, but there were so many people ahead of me and there was a traffic jam. And I REALLY had to go at this point and I was like, “If I don’t get out and get to a bathroom in the next five minutes, I swear I’m going to kill a bitch.”

Anyway, at the airport to go back to MN, Alana came over and asked if I had an aisle seat, which I did, and she asked me to trade with her window seat because she was tall and her legs cramped up when she was in a window seat, which made sense to me, but I also didn’t want a repeat of the flight there.

I was thinking through my options when she said, and I still remember it to this day,

“Think of all the things I’ve done for you.”

And in my head, I was like “whoa whoa whoa” because I recognized that as guilt-tripping. In defense, I told her that I’d done something for her last night and she got kinda grumpy and went back to her seat. I felt kinda bad so I went over and asked her why she asked me and she said it was cuz I was nice, which I like to think is true, but I also wanted to take my own needs into consideration.

So, being a Ravenclaw, I decided to find a way we could both get an aisle seat. Luckily one of the first people I asked had an aisle seat and was willing to trade.

The next day, I was still a bit disgruntled over being guilt-tripped, so I texted her about it and she told me that I did the same thing, like asking her to sugar-coat things and shit. I know for a fact that there’s no way that I did that, so I tried to defend myself. I also told her I didn’t want this to end the friendship and such. She accused me of talking to her like a 2 year old and that conversation left me in tears. It was one of the first times that year. And that would not be the last time.

Her manipulation seemed to carry over to Misty, who asked me if I’d been flirting with a guy we were both fond of, but I knew he was fond of her. As far as I knew, all I did was ask for hugs and talk to him. I ask for hugs and talk to my friends literally all the time, but she still accused me of flirting with him because she and Alana could apparently tell if I was flirting, even if I couldn’t.

The realization came in late-May. I’d applied to a couple of different colleges, one of them was the one Misty goes to and keep in mind, to this day, I’m still not exactly sure why I applied to that college. That day I’d gotten a letter in the mail saying I’d been accepted, which was the second college I’d been accepted to. So I told Alana, who expressed concern at first because it didn’t really have a good theatre program, which she knew I wanted to major in. Fair point.

Then she asked if I applied there because Misty had gotten accepted. I texted her back that I didn’t remember why I applied there and immediately after that, she outright accused me of applying there because Misty was going there. In this rage, I got scared and admitted to her that I was considering killing myself after I turned 18 because I was scared of the world. She told me to tell my dad and then after I did, went on about how I needed to deal with this on my own.

(Backstory: sometime before the incident, I went to see my dean about my suicidal ideations, at Misty’s recommendation. I was really scared, though. Misty seemed to figure this and then accompanied me for a few minutes. Honestly our friendship may have cooled off, but she was still one of the sweetest people.)

Anyway I told her I was scared to go to the dean’s office by myself (also the last time I went there, they didn’t do shit. I was just sent home for the rest of the day) and she told me “Tough luck, buttercup.”

She’s also accused me of fishing for compliments, as if she didn’t admit to doing it herself the first time we met. She also went on about how she could just let me drown, but holds on because she doesn’t want me to. (Bullshit. I hear her voice in my head telling me I’m worthless and to kill myself and shit like that). That lead to another breakdown.

Later that week, I made the mistake of texting her when I felt suicidal and she claimed I wasn’t even trying to get better, but do you realize how much more difficult it is to alleviate depression when you’re autistic? And that’s saying a lot because I feel like it’s incredibly difficult enough when you’re allistic or NT.

And how do I know Misty was under her thumb? Misty, who has depression herself, told me that she agreed with Alana and I was even making negative progress. But she was a bit easier on me. Alana was a “tough love” kind of person, whereas Misty was better with tactful and kind honesty, which I prefer to sugar-coating and tough love.

My initial realization was that Alana was emotionally manipulative, but now I’m pretty sure she was downright abusive. Unfortunately I didn’t cut her off right away?

Why not? Idealism. And the fact that Alana could drive me to Chamber because I don’t have a permit or license, but mostly idealism. Many times I convinced myself that she was a good person and a good friend and my first solution was to simply distance myself until later on and then we could try to repair the friendship.

So then how did I manage to cut it off? Misty. The two of us had gone to see a movie a few days before I was supposed to move into my dorm and, on the way back, I’d told her about the incident back in May and that Alana may be making my depression worse. She took it pretty well, considering how close she is with Alana. She told me she didn’t like to take sides or get involved in problems between two of her friends. She was the one who told me that, if it was that bad, I should cut Alana out without telling her. So that night, I did. I blocked her on Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, almost any social media I had followed or friended her on. Though I fear Misty may still be under her thumb. The last time I saw those two was at the holiday choir concert at my high school and they only left each other’s side like once. Plus Misty blocked me on Facebook and Snapchat. Guess it’s her loss, though.

Because of the damage it caused me, I was slightly distrustful of making friendships when I first came to college and I still am.

I dunno if these feelings and events invalidate the possibility of emotional abuse in my family, but they sure don’t help it either.

Plus, it just so happens that Alana lives in my neighborhood..... Yay.

I don’t have the spoons to write out everything that happened, but yeah.

#emotional abuse #autism #autistic #actuallyautistic #actually autistic #sweet and savage autistic

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