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#i start playing dress up. theres something i dont like. then i spiral and start getting upset about something else. i stop playing dress up.
garlic-gun · 2 years
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okay this post will Definitely work this time
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the text under the cut is from the original version of this post, which itself is from a train of thought that started in its tags before swiftly spiraling out of control
im tagging this as doodles not bc it didnt take much effort (it definitely did take effort and time to try to get the anatomy to work before giving up (hence the note)) and i did have fun but bc i like. i didnt feel like. invested? i usually draw characters bc i think a lot about them and i want to express the things i think about them or that i think are fun or engaging. in fact, there are a lot of characters i have a lot of thoughts and ideas about that i just havent gotten the chance to like deliver on yet. but in general, if its not me putting a bit of me or my experiences in the character, its me trying to emphasize the character visually in a way thats fun for me and diverges from the base material (because it's fun) using my knowledge and interpretation of the character. the only really like "finished" design i have up is goku so ill use him as an example: hes a kind and friendly person so i wanted him to feel approachable but hes also a very strong person as well as having a strong will and i wanted that to be Felt so i ended up giving him a soft-ish but rectangular feel shapewise. rather than the like bodybuilder-y.. build, in terms of physicality, i pulled a bit from strongmen. theres more but this isnt the place its not his post but i'm saying all this bc the choices i made were based on things i wanted to convey both for goku himself And in relation to other characters, who i've been building up in my mind alongside him this entire time with the hope that they bounce off of each other in a fun, varied, but ideally not jarring way. all of this to say, there is basically no data on android 21 in my brain. when i draw her, most of her design flourishes are moreso working off of the twins, who i have at least vague ideas for, and traits related to androids in general (i havent gotten to 16 or gero yet so i dont know if there are traits i want to be similar or contrasted by 21, for example) than like. anything on 21 herself. my understanding of her is probably simultaneously one of my most surface-level of all the characters in the series (i dont have fighterz and i do not want to watch the story right now bc if i do get fighterz i refuse to pay for goku and vegeta blue but its going to hurt my soul to basically replay the story if it doesnt like make me explode so im choosing to stay blind) And the most like potentially warped bc outside of when people play her in tourneys i watch (and i dont even really like watching lc21 so i only see base roster her when i do) all i have to go off of is fandom wiki (unreliable) and any art ive ever seen of her in my life. all of this to say, theres nothing wrong with drawing a character just bc the design is fun but i've been thinking so hard and having at least some form of familiarity with the characters ive been drawing these past few months that Not being able to do that feels really weird. i guess i didn't feel like using my main art tag bc i didnt feel like my heart was really in it even if i did think about what i was doing bc i just didnt really think very hard conceptually. but i guess i Should talk about the design so
while simplicity is definitely a strength, i wanted to see if there was something different i could do. this isnt actually reflective of the order and way that i thought things through bc it Was a bit up and down and all around but essentially i saw that the sleeves from her human form stayed along with her earrings and i was like. what if it was a bit more. i actually went for the shape of that like crop top to the right Before i realized it was similar to her dress bc i just thought the shape was fun but i thought it could be interesting for the checkerboard pattern to still persist somehow. the bracelets i made more like jangly but i think it might have already been like that without me noticing. i guess where this was going is its been a while since i worked with a character Without dedicating like possible months of brainpower to it and .. im talking in circles and its late and i didnt get a lot of sleep i should probably stop
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minecraftoworymode · 4 years
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picked a whole bouquet of whoopsie-daisies the other day reading some Very badfeel content so to cheer myself up here’s some super self-indulgent ramblings about romeo recovery post-s2
“YOU CAN DANCE IF YOU WANT TO YOU CAN LEAVE YOUR INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY BEHIND” or how romeo learned to stop worrying and indulge in the ““feminine”“ shit in life
when romeo transitioned he scrubbed everything that could be potentially viewed as feminine from his appearance and behaviour. while he did everything he could about the former (hairstyle, clothing, body language, voice), it didn’t feel like enough bc he couldn’t change some things that ppl used to be jerks- his frame (short and lithe), his family, his being trans- so he made up for it by trying to “act” like a “real man”. this unfortunately meant he was super vulnerable to manipulative alt-right indoctrination tactics (”we will validate you as a man as long as you endorse our assholery and share our shitty beliefs about what it means to be a man”) and he was on the verge of getting sucked into gamergate ideology when [THIS LORE IS ANOTHER POST] and hey, now the world is minecraft. u dont gotta perform gender roles for villagers they dont care. xara will not only actually eat ur liver for pulling The Bullshit but when you are kind she smiles, so bright and warm, and it is very very nice so maybe you should keep on doing that. n fred? fred is chill with their Everything in a way uve only ever Dreamed of. romeo marinates in this sauce for a couple centuries and comes the closest to being comfortable in his own skin he’s ever been.
however,
after the Incident he slam-dunked himself back into the hypermasculinity juice bc it was a mindset “safe” from feeling pain, whether his or others’. n since the worlds the admins created dont have the same ideas of gender as the world they came from, once he’s been dethroned romeo has a particularly hard time adjusting wrt That on top of all the other 2750347502730 issues he has to face
anyway flash forward a couple months of being incredibly volatile bc he now has to confront all the terrible things he did and how Dare u make him do that and maybe if hes nasty enough he can provoke someone into killing him and saving him from having to unpack All Of That- (note from @simple-mooshroom-herder​: Xara and Jesse at least grasp that Romeo will probably burn himself out on this bullshit eventually and the best thing to do is interact with him with a certain level of healthy detachment. Eventually he'll see that theres no "getting out of this" and he'll start to do the Work but until then its very frustrating to see that tactic take him nowhere.)
- one day petra notices how he’s constantly staring at all the ppl wearing cute dresses in beacontown and at first she thinks he's being creepy but then realizes that he's not being creepy and actually she knows exactly how he feels bc she also used to look at ppl wearing clothes super not suited for combat like that, like she wished she could wear them too, like if she just didnt have to keep up this image of the Warrior who is Not Soft Ever-
n ok. listen. these worlds have been specifically engineered to be better and kinder than the one the admins came from, and when people mess up- even REALLY mess up- people are generally not only willing to forgive you but support you as you try and get better. it’s instinctual for communities to respond to misdeeds with rehabilitation and reconciliation, rather than retaliation and renunciation (tho its not an overnight thing and it generally takes 1-3 people to spearhead the process, esp if the actions have affected a large group of people). like. ivor created something that almost destroyed the entire world, not just beacontown, yet by the end of season one he’s grown to be a part of the team- n its not just jesse & co being forgiving here, bc when ivor made his s1 build with 3 lava source blocks people objected to it, but by s2 he not only has lava in his build but a giant lake of it. (im assuming the fences around said lake are coming eventually, bc safety is still important, but the implications im choosing to take from this are a) despite almost ending the world people let him into their lives anyway and b) the community not only grew to accept but encourage his self-expression.)
BUT ANYWAY before i go off on that even more one day petra and romeo basically put on an impromptu fashion show in jesse’s house (bc their house is huge and, kind of perfect for a fashion show, and also right next to the order hall’s armory whence they stole a bunch of fancy swords to match the outfits) n theyre having a blast until the hero in residence , returns to their residence (and with COMPANY) n romeo is absolutely Mortified- caught red-handed showing feelings of an almost human nature, oh my god, this will NOT do- n this whole grand soliluquy of shame and excuses and apologies grabs the steering wheel of his tongue but he cant even spit a single syllable out bc jesse and lukas almost immediately dip leaving romeo panicking for a second before they come back with their inventories FULL of cute outfits, including a billion skirts and dresses, some of them are even enchanted so theyre like. super shiny or constantly flowing or things like that.
this actually ends up spiralling into a town-wide... not quite fashion show bc there's no runway or anything, everyone just shows up in their cutest/coolest outfits .. fashion convention?? Anyway several people come up to him and compliment him on his outfit casually before continuing along, not recognizing him not only bc of how hes done his hair and makeup n what hes wearing but he just seems... so happy (he might be wearing something on his head? like a headpiece or hat or something? but also maybe not hmm)- whoever this is, he's not hunched over like he's got several centuries' worth of sins crawling on his back he’s not trying to shrink and make small a human-shaped apology for the simple fact of his existence not dragging his feet like hes ready for, dreading, a hundred mile trek through the desert repenting hes just. hes literally just Vibing
anyway he's mostly been silent or just providing very quiet "thank you"s but when it turns out that some people showed up ready to play music and there's a song that he knows he literally cant help but start jamming out its the GOod Stim everyones a-dancing and a-jiving and some people start to sing and so of course he does too (the healing power of dancing and singing in cute outfits.... unfathomable) but. ppl recognize his voice
and after a few seconds he notices how quiet it's gotten all of a sudden n everyones looking at him like "oh shit thats the admin" and honestly his heart breaks. visibly
but
then someone starts singing, so quiet it takes a moment for him to hear over the sound of an encroaching panic attack (oh god he has airpods in), but when he looks over theyre smiling - theyre smiling at hiM???? AND IT DOESNT EVEN LOOK MEAN??- and doing this very simple step, that he catches onto just as easily as he matches their singing (its a fairly common little tune n dance)
theyre like standing like a good few meters away but as they take turns with lines in the song they slowly inch closer
and he thinks hes starting to recognize the dance that the steps theyre doing is from but at the part in the song thats coming up ur supposed to allemande left and even tho theyre like, less than a meter away now literally no one has really wanted to get close to him, let alone actually touch him, so hes totally expecting them to be like 'psych' and humiliate him in front of the entire crowd-
BUT THEN THEY ACTUALLY GO FOR IT???
he completes the step without even thinking about it n continues onto the next in this state of dull bewilderment where there is but one braincell active in his head and it is just going, in a very tiny voice, "danser?"
- when they linked arms the person briefly seemed surprised that he didn't like, chew their arm off or anything (he had. kind of snapped at people a few times during the past few weeks), but then their shock turned into a wide smile and they sort of- nodded? at someone over his shoulder like 'come and join us, it doesn't look like he's going to kill me after all you guys can put the eulogy writing on hold'
what rly makes his heart do the confused and hopeful conga is that this isnt even anyone romeo knows, its a total stranger. or- like- he saw them while he was pretending to be jesse he just didnt care to get to know them beyond ‘name and gimmick’- its not even someone who has any reason to think he'd be cool to befriend its literally jsut someone taking a chance on him (tkae a chance take a chance take a chance take a cha)
afterwards hes like "i should thank jesse for putting you up to that, it was fun" and theyre like "what? jesse didn't "put me up to" anything, dude, you just looked super choked. * something something surfer lingo who would i be if i just left someone to feel bad when they could be having fun dancing you know?*"
he H
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belarath · 6 years
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so I've finally figured out how to vent on here again without falling into a panic spiral which is lovely  :  and I’m just going to spam myself here cause I really need to let something out   :   I’m dying, I'm just straight up dying in here   :   I’m so empty, in many ways   :   I’m wrecked physically, I couldn't walk up a hill 2 weeks ago without sitting down halfway though, and I don't mean a big hill I mean the side of a lightly inclined large road   :   I barely can make it to eat anymore, sitting up is a challenge, any you can forget any kind of maintenance   :   I got better yesterday only just so I could wash my hair enough that after washing it again today its not riddled with dandruff enough to clog up my comb anymore   :   I finally shaved which I like, but i’ve only been able to enjoy that at home. I step outside and its not good for how anxious I am. I had a fake lining of protective masculinity that I relied on to convince me I’m safe. I still felt uncomfortable going places especially at night but it wasn't to bad. now though I’m double as certain every person I see will shank me. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder which panics me cause every time I do that I'm certain that makes me look afraid which makes me a better target   :   though shaving has made me feel better physically   :   I hate my body so much, but shaving makes me feel a bit better which is a relief, the constant loathing of how I look is very very draining   :   you'd think that like after alllll this god damn time it'd get a little easier to live with such a retched self body image but its just so heavy feeling still   :   I worry   :   I’ve always been a very sad person   :   and like I acknowledge that Its probably not healthy how sad I am all the time but   :   I’ve been like this my entire life   :   I’ve never felt happy for longer than like, maybe more than a month or 2 straight   :   I’m so confident in how well I can endure the deathly long expanses of numbness and hyper draining lack of energy   :  the lack of passion for anything the tastelessness of food   :   the contentment to not move the endless wishing for god damn peace and quiet   :   I have that thing where you really just don't want to exist, I just don't want to have to live in this body and be this mind, I acknowledge I don't have a fear of death because I day dream about not being alive in the sense that being alive is very very very heavy   :   not all the time but,,  so much of the time and that not needing to feel the desire to not want to feel heavy anymore is lovely   :   like I’ve lived like this for my entire memory and so just continuing to live has been my jam   :   I know that if I did die, my Mum would not cope, she’s die   :   I’ve watched her claw her way through things, I swear she doesn't know how hard she’s had it, and I cannot take any joy she's gleamed from this life she's sacrificed so much to reach by selfishly dying   :   death is out of the option until my Mum dies   :   and its likely that death will be out of the option until my close friends either drift away or die as, well, they’ve gone though too much, one specifically I worry about, and I think that dying would be rude to say the least   :   and again its just very selfish   :   one of the virtues of having been programmed to treat myself as lesser is that this instinct has prevent my death which is cool   :   it does make for some suffering though   :   but anyway i’ve drifted   :   I wasn't worried about myself and my sadness until this week   :   I think wednesday? I think I had a moment, I’m certain I had a moment where I fantasied about self harm, and the thing about this is that fantasising about it made me feel better, which really is the part I’m scared about   :   funny thing is though that I have a friend who did self harm but they used like a cutting tool and in my head I was like “ugh no thats just not the way to do it stabing is a way better idea!”   :   my friend told me about their experience and they said they knew it was dumb thing to do cause they had people they knew that did it but they still did it, I forget the reason why. but they regretted it and for some reason it made me thing that I’m way more reasonable because I learnt from them and decided that using like cork board pins seems like a way better idea XD   :   I didn't self harm because the pin I had on me I’m sure wasn't clean and I didn't have the energy or the free break to go get a clean one, and going through the rigamarole of sterilising and then trying to hide it was just,,, to much for my stamina to think possible.  : luckily again another piece of programming “gifted” to me by good old paterna saved me from this moment of self harm as I believe everything has to be done by the book! not by like a real book but the book he taught me to make for myself. what a lovely instinct! to have half my brain assigned to making rules to punish and contain my self which is completely SELF SUFFICIENT   :   I’m being sarcastic btw   :   to the core of me tip to toe I hate it with a fucking passion   :   one of the few passions that I do have XD   :   but again I drifted though   : the moment passed and I haven't wanted to self harm again since then which is good but I’m still unnerved   :   I’m so scared   :   I’ve been dying on the inside for a little bit now   :   I think i have anxiety, and i think I may have a little paranoia though I haven't googled it so I may not   :   but gosh its been put into perspective how self destructive I am   :   there was a post which listed a bunch of self destructive behaviours 28 in total, I had 21 of them and the other 7 involved sexuality which I don't have much of being mostly ace   :   I remember thinking “its a fairly good list” but it kinda highlighted somethings    :   it made me think    :   maybe dressing in wet clothes because you couldnt be bothered to keep your body clothed cleanly and then going out in cold windy weather even though you know you’re going to shiver and probably chafe a bit and then be super hungry cause your cold so you decide to eat out and berate yourself for spending or get home and eat and berate yourself for not making something better and getting fatter or not eating just cause who cares.   MAYBE THATS SELF DESTRUCTIVE   :   or maybe staying at public dnd games which a bunch of people who unnerve you and sap you of energy for sometimes chunks of 3 to 5 hours because you “don't want to offend people” or “don't want to mess up anyones schedule” while also not eating or drinking enough MaYbE ThAtS SeLfDeStRuCtIvE Too   :   maybe its knowing you will get horrific migraines or want to throw up from lack of sleep and maybe that will spike your anxiety about being fired from your work because you can't shake the feeling everyone wants to fire you but you don't mention anything because you'd feel bad about leaving or something and because some of these people you actually like you'll degrade yourself more because they are worth it and you’re not MAYBE THATS FUCKING SELF DESTRUCTIVE   :   I WANT TO SCREAM BUT I DONT   :   I NEVER FUCKING HAVE AND IM DYING INSIDE   :   god I get so mad and I scream so loud in my head my head hurts   :   I’m so broken in so many intricate ways and I know I could feel so much better but, theres so much in the way! and most of its me thats in the way! I’m so close to not even just like help Im so close to comfort! I just want be held by people I like, I’m sure I could ask for like more hugs or to cuddle or to hold hands or for people to play with my hair or for just in general human contact of any kind but, theres so much social anxiety to even begin to ask something like that and that even if I were to get consent how the hell could i learn to initiate!? I”M SO FUCKING SCARED to like ask for physical contact from yet another trauma as a kid. If it weren't bad enough that I’m hyper petrified about getting consent for any kind of physical contact but I also believe that if i were to touch people it would be automatically labeled as predatory because I’m male. I’m starting to think maybe sexual trauma as a kid has had a bigger effect on my psyche than I think? which in all honesty is just, its just exhausting to hold in my head that idea.
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hey jude!!! just read ur last anon abt being nb and wondered if u could talk abt ur own gender experience?
well basically i didnt grow up in a very open household, like rly Zero discussion of gender, so i know i Experienced gender entirely but i played almost exclusively with the boys in my class until probably grade 6 or 7, & at puberty, even tho i was a better athlete than most boys in my class still, i started hanging out with girls more, at recess, etc. i was always into androgyny, even if i had no idea (& i didn’t) what that was—i liked some femme things, absolutely, but i wanted nothing to do w skirts or pretty shoes. i wanted to be in adidas running sneakers 24/7 if i could help it, & i wore a uniform to school w the option of a skirt/pants, & im p sure i always wore pants. at the time this, to me, seemed more functional, & it was, but it was also, as i can understand now, something that made me feel Less like a girl, although not at all like a boy.
when i was older, 12, 13, 14, my parents wanted me to dress nicer, & i was v much into like american eagle shit, although by mid hs i was into some vintage stuff. one rly big odd style influence for me was mia wasikowksa in this weird movie called restless bc it was this v soft femme androgyny & i think for me this kind of gender expression became very important to see & understand. it wasn’t that she didn’t look like a girl, or that she wasn’t a girl, but she also sometimes looked like a boy, or wore boys clothes, but she wasn’t butch. idk this movie sent me for a loop honestly lol. 
& obviously my understanding of gender expression didn’t correlate (& doesn’t correlate!) w so many gender identities, & “passing” is extremely harmful as a notion, etc. but when i was younger my understanding of gender & sexuality was very limited & began to expand when i saw very femme but still andro ppl, even tho i couldn’t articulate it at the time. 
when i was a teenager i knew i didnt want to rly have a single thing to do w any boy, which made me sure i was a lesbian bc thats the only narrative i’d rly known abt queerness, or queer women, or even queer ppl who presented as femme. there werent any out lesbians at my school (no fucking way), & the only out queer kid at all was a white gay guy a year older than me, who was popular in the way white gay boys can be popular in high school. but i read voraciously, was fascinated by the crossdressing in shakespeare (paris in the merchant of venice was a particular fixation of mine?) & anyway. i knew i was queer, i knew i liked girls, & i knew i was outrageously uncomfortable w my body, particularly my breasts. for a long time i thought this was because i was ashamed of my sexuality, when i came to sort of understand that, but ofc now i know abt dysmorphia & dysphoria, so yknow. knowledge.
when i went to college i came out big time, & it became very important to me to both be queer & look sort of queer but not queer enough to be Queer—i wanted ppl to be like ‘maybe into girls, but maybe straight.’ as im sure many of us know, this was a lot of internalized shame abt a lot of things, so that sucks. however, i cut my hair which was like the first comfortable thing i had done for my appearance in a v long time, & also smth which my parents hated & i did anyway. i wore a Lot of rly femme stuff bc they hated it tho? so this was all v confusing for me bc my parents are v homophobic, & here i was in college starting to read queer theory & gender theory & falling in love w like. the most beautiful, brilliant girl, & also spiraling into a mixed episode after i got diagnosed w bipolar I, which sort of put everything else on the backburner for a year. 
eventually tho i sorted that out (as much as u can sort smth like that out) & i started to rly pay attention to androgyny. i went to europe & i think theres a whole bunch of nuances to fashion that exist there that certainly arent here, & i spent a winter in warsaw so there were aspects to fashion & expression there that were entirely abt functionality, which i was v attracted to. in college, as well, & especially after college, gender became smth i was v much invested in bc i was (& absolutely am) a feminist, so my place in the canon & zeitgeist was one as a queer female writer. it was so so central to who i was, & what i was writing abt. every single thing i wrote in college was in some way a balm, some sort of piece abt myself, learning abt trauma & the body. sorting through a lot of hurt. i could write a theory piece abt elizabeth bishop & reading it back now i know it was also abt me, that kinda stuff.
when i went to toronto i rly rly started being invested in looking critically at gender & my experience of it bc being read as a woman was smth that was grating on me, even tho i had identified as woman for so long, & had no desire at all to transition. i know 100% i am not a trans man, so that was confusing for a long time because i sort of knew there was a space between but it was very hard to conceptualize. eventually i sort of came to understand gender is a color wheel where cis boys are blue & cis women are pink & then theres literally a ton of other colors out there, so yknow. lots of different experiences of gender. some days i feel much more strongly like i identify w women (in mostly political situations, it matters to me to be read as “female” sometimes bc rights for ppl w vaginas AND trans women are FUCKED UP in so many places). some days i hate the idea of identifying as a woman. i also never want to identify as a man. so when i was in toronto i rly started to know a LOT of queer ppl w so many different expressions of gender. & we were all young & lovely & open & fucked up & we would get fucked up but we would also go read together in the park & wander around alleys in the snow & like. there’s a Muchness to toronto that i experienced that helped me, personally, understand these intersections between my own sexuality & gender & expression as much more than just a gay woman who isn’t butch & isn’t femme. i was rly lucky to become part of a community that identified as Queer, & so i became v much understanding of these different aspects of my own identity that fell outside of binary—my sexuality, my gender. Queerness is a vital & profound thing to me & i was rly able (& so fortunate) to have a close friend group of mostly queer ppl & then a few of the actual literally most incredible allies i’ve ever known & will ever know. 
so then from there i just rly kinda thought abt things & like i got a binder & stuff in TO but rly started to evaluate my dysmorphia & dysphoria (i had struggled really badly w an eating disorder in/post college) & was able to sort out that so much of it had to do w feeling uncomfortable in the way my body was read in the world. & that will always happen bc i LOVE makeup & i have a “feminine” voice & sometimes i love skirts & i shave my legs bc i like how it feels sometimes & i dont ever want to go on T—none of these things make anyone ANY gender, but ofc theyre coded as “female.” but i’m learning to just yknow educate where i can & take a lot of solace in the community of ppl i have fostered who support & understand my Being. i’ve also allowed myself to be invested in aesthetics & fashion & how much a role that plays bc like. yah fuck Yah i look cool shit bc my friends love it & absolutely i wanna wear the same vans maia mitchell has & i want a melodrama hoodie & i LOVE local toronto designers & their angsty patches abt sad songs & whiskey but i love fashion born out of histories that is connected to smth i can understand, like queer punk movements, or smth my friends & i share, like blundstones (which are gender neutral, which is cool). i’m fascinated in how ppl express their Selves, & we are so unfortunately Finite in our bodies in the sense that that’s rly how the world, in our day to day interactions, processes who & what we are. so i invest in the care of mine by trying to listen to it, trying to make it comfortable—& clothing is a huge thing that can do that. also its fun so anyone who thinks loving (ethical, cool) fashion is vain can eat my ass
anyway lmao now i have a p decent sense, atm at least, of what makes my body its most comfortable (even if that is v far from Comfortable at times). i love my tattoos, & i basically never rly want long hair again i’m p sure, & i love makeup, & if i could wear vans or blundstones every day for the entirety of my life at this point that would be incredible. those are easy things, & i try to allow my body, in its cultural place, to have access to them as much as possible, which is so important to me in a sense of having access to a physical space that matches my mental space of gender identity. politically sometimes i feel v v much a “woman” in terms of my lived experience, & i allow that of myself as well. sometimes when i write it’s important to me that my poetry be read as a queer person but also someone who is culturally coded as a woman, bc those are still always central concerns of my work—the trauma, the power there. but day to day i’m mostly happy spending my time obsessing over other things, like what to call this new genre of music halsey & lorde are making, or why my dog stevie is a Fanatic when it comes to ice cubes. ive come to enough terms w my gender, & my sexuality—& the expression thereof—that unless someone is talking abt gender, or someone asks me a question, it’s not smth that is constantly on my mind, which is. Nice. its so nice lol. 
also i would like to point out that i know my experience being non binary is rly rly white & western in so many ways & i get that. my cultural experience of non binary gender is also v much this like. ive felt frustrated before but never in my life have i felt scared to be non-binary while i was like out & abt in the world, bc i still pass as a cis white woman literally everywhere all the time (which has its pros & cons but like, still, a lot of privilege). so i do try to keep all of that in mind as well when i try to center myself & all that jazz
& who tf knows where all of that will take me. i feel like, bc ive learned to listen to my body & my brain so much better than i did when i was younger—even when they might hate themselves—i am so much better at filling up a space in the world that occupies smth healthy. which is not smth i take lightly, & i’m also so open to changes, as long as they feel good & beneficial & true. which is sort of new for me. who knows man ur mid twenties are a wild ride 
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rhapsody-in-heaven · 3 years
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An Open Letter about Racism and the Term Banana
Context
First Incident sometime last month i referred to myself as a banana and was told it was subtly racist. i *thought* i had adequately explained why it was not and why i identified as such. i had also explained that i would never actively call someone else a banana unless they also referred to themselves as such.
Second Incident it happened last night. to her defence, before i start, she was a bit drunk and i also know shes super passionate about this topic. however, i do have to say i think shes too “politically correct” sometimes to the point where she would be offended by how i view myself - but well get to that later. anyways, she was a bit drunk and we somehow came to the topic of xenophobia vs racism and that somehow spiraled into “reverse racism” and how it, in her opinion, doesnt exist, but i didnt agree. i mostly was content with letting the topic go but she really wanted to convince me otherwise. she got frustrated w me enough tho that she said something along the lines of “this is like how u call urself a banana and think its not racist and that its okay, but it is racist and its not okay” to which i yelled back “i talked to my asian american friends about this and they all tell me that you dont understand my experiences”
Open Letter
Part One - Our Conversation About Xenophobia, Racism and “Reverse Racism”
First, I want to say about the whole issue of xenophobia and “reverse racism”, maybe youre right. And certainly you believe so. Maybe white people cant experience racism. And i certainly understood your point about how its only the oppressed class or classes who could experience it. 
But I also believe that they can be oppressed in non-white dominated countries. Maybe you see it as discrimination and not racism. And that’s fine. But I do not claim to know everything that happens in the world, and so I cannot say for 100% certainty that they do not. 
Even if in a societal scale they “cannot” experience racism. Can you then say it doesnt happen on a personal level? If my moms telling me she rather me marry Chinese>Asian>White>Black, to me, that is racism not just “discrimination” or “xenophobia” (which was by ur definition a rejection of anyone whos different) why isnt it just “i rather u marry a chinese guy”? why are there tiers? 
Maybe you have a sound explaination for this. Maybe i still dont fully understand the subtle differences between the term racist, or xenophobic. Again, im more than willing to play with the idea im wrong. But its not something youre going to convince me of in a 15 minute half drunken conversation. 
Side Note: Did you know white europeans used to be enslaved by muslims? these are the stories we never hear about because being a victim at any point in time doesnt fit the narrative of white people always being on top or the narrative of whites being the “evil colonialists”.
Part Two - The Term Banana
I thought you understood me the last time we talked but I guess not because you called me racist last night. I want to preface this by saying at the time I read what articles I could find, written by asian americans about how they either accepted or rejected this term. I also went to ask my asian american friends what they thought as well.
All my friends and I identify with the term banana. There are some, in the articles I read who do reject this term. And i will reiterate that I would never call someone a banana unless they themselves do and it comes up in conversation like “im such a banana.” “lmfao its fine we can be bananas together”. 
I remember you thought it wasnt a term I should use because “i will always be asian” and i cant “make myself white”. I have never wanted to be white. I was a pretty weird kid, and I always knew i was different from others, I was always very aware of the fact that I was Asian and I was always proud of it.  My Experiences from Canada
I know for some of my friends it was a shock learning that they were different from their peers. One example i can give is the comedian Joe Wang tells this story about how his son thinks hes white and was shocked to learn he was actually “yellow”.  But for me, anytime someone asked me where i was from, I would say “China” (at this point i didnt know the difference status Hong Kong held). Now, part of this I attribute to actually being born in Hong Kong and therefore saying i was from “China” was true to me. The other part is that I never really experienced racism. Then again, maybe i did and i was just too dense to realize.  But i never had the thing where kids would go “ewww whats that stuff ur eating”. Certainly i would get weird looks sometimes, but, to me it was just like i like eating broccoli but hate carrots, u think broccoli is gross but u love carrots. I never took it as a racial thing. I even remember i brought mooncakes once for my class to try and almost no one took me up on it but the teacher. The ones who did expressed they really didnt like like w their face. But i didnt feel bad. I remember carrying the box of mooncakes back to the car and telling my mom they didnt wanna try and immediately both of us said “oh well, more for us”.  I will say when I was young, I really wanted to have blond hair and blue eyes, curly hair even. I saw a friend and thought it was so pretty. But even as i imagined myself with blond hair and blue eyes, i still saw myself w asian features not white features. A little later I started watching anime and wanted purple eyes so i can say with certainty it wasnt a me wanting to me white thing. My Experiences in Hong Kong and with My Family in General 
Growing up my parents and my family back in Hong Kong, would always call me a “gwei mui”. From wikipedia, “Gwei [xxx] is a common Cantonese slang term for Westerners. In the absence of modifiers, it refers to white people and has a history of racially deprecatory and pejorative use, although it has been argued that it has since acquired a more neutral connotation. Cantonese speakers frequently use gwailou to refer to Westerners in general use, in a non-derogatory context, although whether this type of usage is offensive (i.e., an ethnic slur) is disputed by both Cantonese and Westerners alike”. Yes, in the past this word was racially charged, but in the present, its just another way to refer to westerners. I don’t really wanna get into it right now because theres a lot more to break down, but just know that its just a common way to refer to foreigners and the term “gwei mui” specifically refers to white girls. 
I grew up like this. And I grew up knowing that it was a very neutral term for people to call westerners and I also grew up being called such. Just as it was a fact that I was a girl, or that my moms name was Elsa, I was a gwei mui. 
Hong Kong is an international city. And there are foreigners everywhere. I remember walking into a store and before I even said anything, the shop assistants would ask “oh, youre from overseas right?” “yeah, how did you know?” “oh i can just tell by the way u carry yourself”. I had a friend tell me that she could tell i grew up overseas from the way i stood waiting in line, have ppl tell me they could tell by my make up or by how i dressed.  My “Thesis” on the Matter
In Hong Kong, and in my family and my extended family I was always the “white girl”. You once said that I couldnt be white no matter what, that i would always be asian. Can you tell my family that? Can you erase the fact that I was heavily influenced by western culture? I will say again, i never wanted to be white. And to be quite honest, when you said that I couldnt be white, and that i would always be asian, I felt angry. Angry that you could even imply I would want to be white, that i would want to be anything other than asian, that you assumed to know how i was feeling. 
But you need to understand, its not about “wanting to be white”, its about “not being asian enough”. You need to understand, that it never came from white communities, it came from my parents and my family back home. 
It was never racially motivated. It was just a fact. I’m currently 25 years old, I’m 5ft5(ish), I weigh about 117lbs, I was born a girl and identiy as such, I’m from Hong Kong, I grew up in Canada and i’m a banana. 
If we were to go back to what u were trying to explain about racism and xenophobia then you could make the argument that “gwei mui” and “banana” had xenophobic roots - but to tell me its racist? because im itching to be white? i thoroughly reject that and i find it offensive.  If we were to take this stance tho, that it had xenophobic roots, and is therefore xenophobic, I would say “yes, maybe. but if im reclaiming it and seeing it as acknowledgement that I am a mesh of two different cultures, who are you to tell me its wrong?” Furthermore, i would make the argument that the n-word most definitely had racial undertones. but black ppl proudly call themselves the n-word. Why cant I call myself a banana without people telling me im being racist.  The final reason on why that statement about how i will always be asian and never white disturbs me to the core is the way that statement lumps all asians together. And maybe you didnt mean it like this or didnt even notice. But my experiences are vastly different from my cousins who grew up in Hong Kong. And yes, by the colour of my skin i will always be asian. But the experiences that make up who I am and my personality are very Canadian, very western based. And to basically overlook that, is to overlook my existence and the existence of Asian Americans.  I know you would never do this, but to basically put all Asians in one category is the same mind that would white supremacists' would tell us to “go back to our country” not acknowledging that most of us were born or at least grew up here. 
Thoughts from My Asian American Friends. Like I said, I talked to this with a lot of my asian american friends. Most of which identified w the term banana and actively call themselves one. Others who don’t, but are not offended when others identify themselves as such.  They reiterated that the term banana was never about “wanting to be white” that it was never an issue of “want”. That it never came from white communities. It came from their families back in asia. That they were “too white” or “not asian enough”. As one friend put it, “i mean in honesty we say it cause we feel like we don't totally belong to our culture, it's not saying it in means to erase our race.” another friend added “ This is true. I’ve seen posts about struggles of other Asian Americans who feel like they’re too Asian to be accepted as an American but too American to be accepted as an Asian lol”. They also said that to deny us of calling ourselves bananas is to invalidate our experiences and our existence as asian americans. That we are not the same as our counterparts who grew up in asia. That we were heavily influenced by western culture. “ Lmao did they just forget that as much as Asian blood runs in you, your whole life has been in CA? For that person to say that to you feels like she’s already making you feel invalidated for being Asian AND Canadian”. Who are others, who are not asian americans, to tell us, asian americans, how we can or cannot identify ourselves. Who are non asian americans to tell us this is racist, to say that we “want” to be white when they dont understand how we feel at all. my one friend said and i quote, “yeah I don’t think calling myself a banana is racist, like dude I’m talking about myself and how I see myself, who tf are you to say anything”.
one friend said it played into the white savior narrative. that we dont know better and that not specifically you, but that in general white ppl are getting angry for us, trying to educate us and inform us because we dont know better.  Another friend agreed that it probably started off as a negative but then ppl accepted it cuz it made sense - similar to how gweilo started off as having negative connotations but is now just neutral. She said, “banana imo is one of those words that started off as something bad but gradually (some) people accepted it and started referring themselves as banana because it makes sense lol”.  Closing Statements
I’m not trying to make you feel bad and i honestly hope i dont. But I remember you telling me it was important to have these conversations so I hope this isnt too  uncomfortable. honestly tho, i dont even know if im ever going to send this to you or if youll read it.
But I really need you to understand where this comes from and where I’m coming from. If you dont agree, I can’t really change that. But to essentially call me racist for how identify myself with the things i struggle with, is 100% not okay. To tell me I’ll always be asian and to imply i shouldnt want to be white is 110% offensive. and to lump asian americans with asians is 100% denying our experiences. to tell me how i can and cannot see myself, is also 100% not your call, its mine. And it really hurt to know after our conversation last time you still thought i was ‘wrong’ that you thought I was being racist instead of truly respecting where it comes from.  At some point you might be able to gradually convince me ‘reverse racism’ doesnt exist. but there is no way in hell, you will convince me that how I or other asian americans see ourselves is the “wrong” way to see ourselves. 
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lalunangel · 4 years
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Ojo.
I have a lot of stories where eyes would touch my skin and harm me just because I had something they lacked.. But the last time I had gotten it I was 14 and I assumed I was finally acceptable by the nature of adult women and men. I was not. In North Carolina a pair of evil eyes grazed and racked my body in a little black dress and green cardigan. My sister said I looked like Marry Poppins. I felt cute and empowered. But that entire night I sat there.. She was staring at me.. I assumed it was because my hair was red.. And I looked like christmas. I have it written down in a journal I took with me.. About how this woman made me feel. I was uncomfortable under her gaze and slowly I started to weaken and feel sick. I got cold chills and the fever I broke befire boarding my plane shot up. I was shaking. When they introduced me as one of the bridesmaids I felt everyones necks break to judge me.. But her eyes never left. I know it was her because her boyfriend spoke to me and I didn’t know and I laughed and told him I was only 19... and not interested. He laughed and said he understood and I was glad we moved on from it but her tension never broke with me. I finally had enough before my meal even arrived.. My eyes were itching and burning. My skin was crawling. I needed to go to our hotel room. I ran back. I left and sat on a chair taking my normal medicine to ease my throat and head of the pounding. I took my antidepressants and decided when it kicked in.. I would be okay and that a shower was necessary. I kicked off my cute shoes.. And pulled my cardigan off.. And i eventually pulled my dress off... but the moment my undergarments came off my breasts and thighs were in agony.. i started shaking.. crying naked on the restroom floor.. pain.. pain.. my eyes swelled up and everything was thick milky white... everything... blurry... I cried... I knew no one would come back for hours but i cried... and cried begging for someone to come help me... i couldn’t move. My fever felt high before but here my skin was on fire.. i crawled to the door and climbed up and put on pajamas... and crawled to my bed and cried more... I woke up to hands.. hands on my skin.. cold.. “Breathe Angel.. please breathe” I didn’t think much of that comment but i gasped for air after listening.. cold hands and when i opened my eyes... my dad was there and i cried.. i screamed it wasn’t fair... and when i closed my eyes again and opened my sister was there crying... “You stopped breathing” the bed drenched in my sweat.. My skin felt clammy.. I could have died here and no one would have known.. I opened my mouth and said “I want dad” and she cried and hugged my arm and said “I’m here don’t go” and i gasped for air more just to calm down my pulse.. I couldn’t breathe.. My eyes hurt. It hurt to look. my body was in flames still and i still had chills... I couldn’t swallow.. i couldn’t talk for long.. all i did was cry.. like a mute baby.. i fell asleep again after.. tons of hands on my body when i woke up “is she okay?” “why is her skin turning that color” “can she breathe” “she’s not contagious so why is she still sick” “we need to take her to the emergency room” “i can’t afford that” “angel please don’t die here” and i didn’t feel like i was going to be okay.. but i didn’t think i was going to die. I just thought my skin needed to be washed inside and out and my bones soaked in milk. I woke up hours later gasping for air again and someone’s gloved hand shoved down my throat and i gagged on it and cried... whoever it was grabbed my swollen tonsil and pulled their fingers back out and said “the blood is from her throat” and i clung to their arm hoping they’d take care of me.. they’d help me.. my eyes open but all i saw was white... and then i screamed “MAKE IT STOP MOM” and she touched my forehead and said “I’m trying baby i’m trying stay with me” I must have stopped breathing a lot.. i must’ve been coughing up blood on my pillow.. i must’ve been bad to see because that night felt like days alone.
so many people came in and out of my room that night and at some point i got annoyed with hands touching me and pain shooting shock waves through every part of me.. so i said “Egg. Ojo. Please” and my mom automatically understood my demand.. and she waited for my water and my egg to be room temp and she prayed over me and rubbed it across my skin. I don’t know why I thought of this pain as the same of ojo.. but it was.. and I wanted it gone.. an hour after she blessed my skin i could open my eyes and see the world.. my egg had fried in the water.. i was in a downward spiral fast and with my fever being so high... and not able to be broken.. and no medicine helping... i could’ve been in the hospital the next day.. i opened my eyes and the family my tía was marrying into was standing by my bedside looking about ready to take me.. but when i opened my eyes and my body temp had reduced back to its normal heat.. they hugged me.. and i laughed weakly.. my swollen throat.. gone... my headache gone.. my shitty vision gone.. my breasts and thighs no longer hurt.. and i could stand on my own.. i could breathe.. everything i was experiencing was gone.. and grandma and my sister saw me sit up and ran to my side and my sister was crying... “I thought you were going to die you stopped breathing a lot and the blood was everywhere” and i just smiled and said “Death could never take me away from you” and i laid my head on her shoulder.. I wasn’t going to die. But i felt close.. and i kept seeing and hearing my dads voice.. and i kept calling out for him.. but it could’ve all been a dream.. I took a shower and dressed more modest like.. but i shouldn’t have to.
I shouldn’t have to change my dress or my style for the sake of some assholes confidence. I shouldn’t have to hide MY BODY. It’s my choice and no matter what IM NOT ASKING TO BE RAPED OR GIVEN OJO! I was livid and at the wedding that same girl was wearing a slutty outfit and before i graduated i was soft and kind and forgiving BUT ILL BE DAMNED YOU HAVE A GOOD NIGHT WHILE YOU CAUSED ME SO MUCH SUFFERING THE NIGHT BEFORE! So i spilt meatballs and vegetables and ranch on her. loved your jumper, hated you. it was stained and it looked awful and she had to go change INTO SOMETHING MORE MODEST! FUCK YOU! My grandma played with my hair and told me “She deserves it but you should’ve let what was coming come” and i said “More is to come when envious eyes poison innocent skin” and true to form we were playing with fireworks at the wedding venue and her new dress got burned for flirting with someone else and her boyfriend cheated on her with one of my older cousins. And she was mad at me as if i had invoked evil. ALL I WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO SMELL LIKE MEATBALLS! The universe is tired of your shit and let you have what you deserved. I didn’t laugh because that’s ugly. But my grandma looked at me and said “The universe doesn’t show you always but it loves you more than you could imagine” and i said “She hurt other girls before me. It was bound to happen. It’s just unfortunate for her that the universe does side with me more often than not” And it does. Every ounce of pain and suffering i’ve found that the world brings it back times three to people who harm me. My mom.. I don’t want to explain but she got hers after she had wished me dead.. and all i replied was with the same malicious comment she said to me. my sister.. i’m sorry you didn’t deserve this but at the same time you should’ve just stopped when i asked. my ex boyfriend/roommate YOUR EYESIGHT IS GETTING WORSE BUT ITS BECAUSE ALL YOU DID WAS CHEAT ON ME SLUT! Anyone who’s ever been rude and hurt me severely has been met with something awful and I dont hope for terrible things.. but they come. They come they come they come. if you wish to cast blame.. Theres a protection spell on my skin from my great grandmother... that blesses me... from when she met me... to now.. until the end of time.. She saw what they would do to me.. and blessed me. So as long as i am alive... i will never worry about seeking revenge myself. it comes on its own. but i really did wanna throw meatballs at her because i wanted to wear my cute dress and dance and be happy.. but like i say. It’s coming. The universe broke my heart for the last time and watched me rise from those ashes laughing and surviving.. i might not be evil but whatever it is that desires me to live is. it’s not afraid of consequences either.
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