friendly-nieghborhood-goldfish

[friendly-nieghborhood-goldfish]

Dear followers,

I don’t have anyone to talk to so I’ll just think out loud here.

I’m so exhausted. There’s so much pressure to be everything for everyone. My mothers perfect child. A leader. A tutor. A therapist. A scholar. A best friend. A boyfriend.

I’m shoved into so many molds and outwardly, to everyone else, they seem to fit perfectly. They don’t. In reality I’m so “good” at all those things because I was forced to grow up way too fast. Sometimes I just with someone would see me and my needs, and not a person to use as they see fit.

-Matt

[friendly-nieghborhood-goldfish]

Dear followers,

I thought I’d share a happy story today

For context: my partner came over to meet my parents (who love to deadname and misgender me)

My mom: hey *deadname*

*becomes visibly upset/tense*

My partner leaned over and said: “you’ll always be Matthew to me”

I don’t think they realized how important that was for me to hear. Since then, every time I get deadnamed or misgendered I cling to that sentence and I cling to the confidence in their voice when they said it. It made me feel so loved and respected because I never thought there would be anyone in my life who could love me as me. It reassured me that they’ll never change the way they see me because of what others say, and it’s made the constant deadnaming and misgendering bearable. One truly supportive sentence did more for me than years of lectures from “supportive” people.

Moral of the story is that supportive partners save lives.

-Matt

[friendly-nieghborhood-goldfish]

TW//talk about dysphoria

Dear single follower,

I’m so so dysphoric. Like that infinite type of dysphoric that sends ur brain in never ending loops.

It’s been especially horrible since we’ve gonna back to school. It’s agonizing to watch cis boys start to go through the changes I want so desperately. Everyday I feel myself getting farther and farther from passing and it just makes me want to cry.

At this point idk what’s worse: staying at home and being constantly deadnamed and misgendered or going to school and feeling horrible about myself.

-Matt

[friendly-nieghborhood-goldfish]

Yes. Just yes.

Dysphoria isn’t just “hating your body.”

Sometimes it’s sadness. It’s crying for the child you never got to be. It’s lying in bed, wondering who you would’ve been, if only you were cis. It’s looking at a cis guy or cis girl and feeling hollow in your chest.

Sometimes it’s anger. It’s screaming at the sky, for the unfairness of it all. It’s wondering, “why me?” It’s lashing out and resenting your family and friends, because even if they try they will never understand the pain you go through, will never understand what using your name and pronouns and supporting you in your transition means to you.

Sometimes it’s numbness. It’s looking in the mirror and just feeling empty. It’s taking a shower and staring at the ceiling, hands going through the motions, forcing yourself not to look down. It’s pushing your friends away because you can’t feel it within you to laugh or care anymore. It’s seeing someone else and hearing someone else and people talking about someone else, not you.

Sometimes it’s fear. The fear of changing in front of someone, of doctor’s appointments, of looking in the mirror when you step out of the shower. It’s the knot in your throat when you hear someone call you the wrong name but you’re not brave enough to correct them. It’s the fear that you’ll never get to be yourself.

Sometimes it’s confusion. It’s being young and wondering why those pronouns feel so wrong, why your name doesn’t fit you, wondering why your body feels so wrong but not having the words you need to explain yourself. It’s walking past a store window and being genuinely puzzled, because for a second, even if just a second, you forgot that you were transgender. It’s expecting to see something but seeing something else entirely.

Sometimes it’s exhaustion. Sometimes it’s so damn hard and you just want to sleep and never wake up again. Even if you’ve just woken up in the morning, you still feel like the weight of the world rests upon your shoulders, and your shoulders alone. It’s the feeling that no matter how much you sleep, you will never wake up to a world where you will get to be who you are without going through so much pain and effort and money. It’s wishing that someone would just hold you and tell you that they love you no matter what, no matter what- they’ll support you and fight for you and call you the right things.

Dysphoria isn’t just “hating your body.”

[friendly-nieghborhood-goldfish]

Me all the damn time tho

Me: *Says literally anything*

My dysphoria:

[friendly-nieghborhood-goldfish]

Dear nonexistent followers,

Clearly I’ve got a lot on my mind today.

I was having an introspective brain storming session and thinking over the toxicity of social media. Here I feel free to post whatever I’m feeling because a) you don’t know me irl and b) you’re nonexistent. But, no matter how much we tell ourselves we don’t care about what people think you can’t tell me you don’t have that little voice in your head questioning everything you post. It’s like everyone’s life goal to not care about what everyone else thinks. It’s so stupid. You’re human. You care. You’ll always care and it’s a waste of time to pretend you don’t. I think instead we should except that we care, feel whatever the judgement makes us feel and let go. But society won’t teach you that because society profits off our insecurities. So, from now on I’ll be learning to let go of feeling instead of pretending I don’t have any.

-Matt

[friendly-nieghborhood-goldfish]

Dear non existent followers,

I’m starting this blog as a form of therapy for myself so if you don’t wanna read about my feelings I suggest u click away now.

I’m a trans guy so a lot of this is going to be lgbtq and dysphoria related

First order of business: why does it feel like no one ever wants to talk about dysphoria? I know a couple trans people irl and it seems like they’re so secretive about it. Not to mention the countless hours I’ve spent scouring the internet looking for relatable content that isn’t memes. I feel like week could save baby trans kids a lot of grief by talking about it more.

It feels impossible to talk to my cis friends about because they don’t really get it but I’ve never found other trans people who want to talk about it either. I’m trapped so, I guess I’ll be telling you about it from now on.

-Matt