#DISOWNED

[composer-clover]

i am grieving my upcoming illusory death

counting down the days to my living funeral

where i will be as good as dead in your eyes

while i just stand here

tears, no doubt, streaming down my face

and you ignore me like a ghost

not fully dead, but in my own hellish purgatory

for not doing as you say

[aceing-on-the-cake]

quotes taken from Lazarus Rises (Among Other Things) by Berklie Novak-Stolz (@icaruspendragon) and poems written by Cassemiah (@cassemiah)

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was disowned by my family for not wanting to do weed. I then cursed their weed using a magic treasure chest.

[thatsbelievable]

[somenerdfromwhatever]

Dear Parents who think disowning their kids are cool

Hi. Apparently I still have this. It’s cool, I’m going to use it for my long thought pieces anyway. Regarding recent events in the LGBT community scene, namely Vivian, a trans-girl going against her dad, Elon Musk himself, I reflected a lot on a question I asked onto Reddit recently (I know I know Reddit sucks but it got me thinking):

Why are some parents so okay with disowning trans kids when they gave birth to them?

This is a pretty tough question with some pretty rough answers, but after seeing the shit I saw last week and now, something has to be said on the matter. Content warning because we're dealing with heavy hitting topics like abandonment, and family drama. Also content warning for what I am about to present because, well, I'm pissed.

It is no secret why I bought the Vivian and Elon Musk thing up to tackle this question as having a billionaire shit talk their own kin that they gave birth to is sickening and inhumane. Heck even before his venture into buying Twitter, he was constantly berating her for just being her own genuine self. Heck in her thread on Threads, her father was a massive deadbeat to her. Unsupportive and hostile who wasn’t there in her life all because her crime was being herself. It’s sad isn’t it? This is one of the most wealthiest humans on the planet mind you, the guy that can end world hunger, have massive funds to pool into medical care to accelerate a cure to cancers, but instead he chooses to defame, harass, and downright abuse his own child for being their true self. And given the recent lights of Elon being a dead beat, I also say in my opinion, he just left her to die. He bought Twitter under the guise of fighting censorship, but yet only to impose his own narrow worldview on others to fuel his slander to his own kin. This hypocrisy is disturbing given recent events as he was fighting for the very thing he fought against.

It’s not just the LGBT community, does anyone else remember that mom from an Autism Speaks documentary about how she wanted to commit a murder-suicide on her daughter just for being autistic? Her name was Alison Singer. A name all too well in the community when discussing neurodiversity and programs that don’t speak for us. You also have the case of Kelli Stapleton who ACTUALLY DID IT.

You also have parents like the ones from Toddlers and Tiaras, where Carly developed a spilt personality disorder thanks to their own MOM because Carly loathed being forced into competitions. Heck I even grew up with the whole DaddyOFive situation where Mike abused Cody. So now the question becomes this:

Why are parents willing to disown their children for being who they are? And regardless of their differences, why would they do that when they are the ones who gave them the life to live on this planet?

And with the rise of LGBT hate, disability hate, it seems like every difference a human makes can make a parents cut ties with them in a heartbeat. With no answer in sight, I might as well make one.

Now, look. What I’m going to address next is harsh, but it’s a reality that every parent needs to accept.

If you are pregnant, and you gave birth to a kid, as newfound parents, that child you are holding in your hand is not your property. They are their own soul, and you better let them be their own soul. They have one life to live on this planet, make their moments count. If you toss them aside, berate them, and even disown because you can't handle differing ideologies, interests, etc. don't call yourself a parent. A parent by definition is being there for your children. A parent who tosses them aside over them being different no matter how or what isn’t a parent at all. And parents who disown them, and kick them out... well. I consider them brain-dead murderers, as they are tossing their kin out to die in society. Yep, I'm going there. Parents who disown and kick their kids out to fend for themselves in society (which they all die too sadly) are murderers.

So what if they express their identity?! So what if they have disabilities they grew up with?! So what?! You still gave birth to them! You lead and support them! And YOU need to give your next of kin independency and not turn them into a slave you can mold in YOUR IMAGE.

This is the TRUE PRO-LIFE STANCE. The actual truth to being PRO-LIFE. To be PRO-LIFE, you have to be PRO-CHOICE as the truth about PRO-CHOICE is letting a human appreciate how they want to live their life and appreciating their own say on the matter. To put it in words that are easier to understand, I inputted this mombo jumbo into GPT to explain it in Caveman:

To support life, you must let people choose how they live. Respect their choice and let them decide. That is true PRO-LIFE.

How is that a hard concept to understand? Like seriously? My parents support my career path to becoming involved heavily in post-production! Heck I'm still on that goal and still dreaming on working on my favorite show on Netflix, Wednesday! They were surprised back when I was a pre-teen about to be heading to high school for this to happen! I was a kid who loves to hold camcorders, a kid who edited a YouTube Poop which landed me into a one-day suspension from school, and a kid who loved making these every day. My parents accepted me for who I was especially since I grew up with autism and it was a new thing TO THEM. Heck even with my Wednesday video gaining traction, my Mom accepted me for being non-binary! So you tell me then, answer me the following: Do you think for just a second that you're doing the right thing by throwing kids like us out? Do you think you're justified in abandoning your own flesh and blood just because they don't fit into your narrow-minded ideals? Newsflash: you're not. You're failing at the most basic level of parenthood. You brought a life into this world; you don't get to just walk away when things get tough or when your child's identity challenges your beliefs. I never watched the Saw movies, but I do seen the complexities of the character John Kramer, the infamous Jigsaw killer. Say what you want, but is he wrong about how we should appreciate life?

To appreciate life, it's means to value all life. All HUMAN life, including the individuality and identity of the next generation. Whether it's your kid you birthed, or a kid passing by, the fact is they are their own soul. You don't control other people's souls, you have to appreciate their own life by their own choices. It's this freedom to be themselves. Letting children grow into their true selves.

Parents, your role if you birth a kid is so straightforward it is astounding how you ignore this.

This isn't about you. I've been on this planet for 25 years now. 25 years. We get it, parenting is hard. My parents had to adapt with my autistic video making non-binary self. They supported everything that I do. You chose to bring a child into this world. You owe them love, support, and acceptance UNCONDITIONALLY. Anything less is a failure on your part, not theirs, YOURS. Disowning your child is the ultimate act that makes you no different then a murderer who kills people just for being different. It's choosing your comfort over their happiness. I would never leave any next generation of mine out to die, and I will accept who they are no matter what they are regardless of interest, disabilities, and identity. I also find it hilarious when this happens, they happened to label them as groomers. Last I checked, the definition of it on every dictionary is "to make (someone) ready for a specific objective". (Verb Definition 3a on Webster's Dictionary for example) Sure it has been co-opted with the abusive nature, but the original definition set is stone is forcing someone onto a specific act. So if you disown a kid for not conforming to your standards on the basis of identity or something else, remember that you, in fact, are the one trying to "groom" them into your image. And if your kid is LGBT, well, that is telling on yourself at this rate, because under this logic and definition that's been there since the dawn of time... you, the parent who disowned them, are the real groomers here and the kids you raised are doing as you said, protecting themselves from groomers like you. You excuse and shift blame onto other people when you are the living definition of it raising your kid in your own image instead of living their own lives. And yes. I fucking said it. It deserves to be said. I stand by this notion.

In this current climate, where LGBT hate is on the rise and intolerance is being amplified by those in power, it's more crucial than ever for parents to stand up and protect their children. And if you are a kid and your parents are like this, abusing you, grooming you into their own perfect image, call them out, because this toxic generational trauma has to end. The world is already a harsh and dangerous place for anyone who doesn't fit into the so-called 'norm.' Take it from me, a neurodivergent who has to mask just to get through. Imagine how much worse it becomes when the very people who are supposed to love and protect you turn their backs on you. Oh to all those deadbeat parents I mentioned, Mike Martin (DaddyOFive), Elon Musk, Kelli Stapleton, Alison Singer, and others. Yeah they are hitmakers, advocates, and superstars in their minds, but to end it with a familiar Kendrick Lamar lyric, they are "fucking deadbeat that should never say more life."

I hope you read that Kendrick Lamar lyric well, because if you disown your kids just for being who they are, you shouldn’t say you’re “for the kids”.

I beg you parents of old and new, please take these words seriously. No kid would ever want a parent like that.

Good night.

[averagetmntfan]

the short ones are always aggressive, hm.

[muttgirl]

Someone tell that teen girl running away from her broken home that she might run away from the next set of arms that will take her. When she leaves that new broken “safe” place please tell her she isnt the common denominator of all the chaos in her life, she feels that way all the time. Let her mourn the life she never had. Hold her in her grief. One day she will see the life she gave herself the opportunity to have and thank you.

[enmesheddaughterparentified]

Happy new year to everyone but shitty parents who think they need to contact their kids today. Fuck you mom.

[cassemiah]

"Are you okay?"

the cashier asked me,

"not really"

"I've been disowned by my family"

"but I've still got work to do"

"so thanks for the coffee"

[articsmoon]

My sister found out I was emo and is trying to disown me

[composer-clover]

Any warmth has long since disappeared,

ice flows through my veins

as I lay here in this glass coffin

They say it's of my own making.

It hasn't a single mark on the surface,

crystal clear are the figures around me

as if They cannot see my nails break,

see my skin splitting

as I claw at this pristine prison

No one cares to hear my screams,

but I can hear Them

I can hear Them perfectly as They look at me

"she's gone" They say, wiping false tears

"she ate the apple, she chose this"

I envy Snow White,

For she didn't have to watch

as the people she loves treat her

as if she is no longer breathing

[azucar-skull]

I used to be a part of something big...

Being disowned on my mom's side and dealing with loss on my dad's side is something I wish didn't happen at the exact same time. My mom's side hated me for being the mixed child, a product of their daughter marrying a Mexican man. They hated me more when I came out. But...

I still loved them...

.

Sorry for the sudden vent art drop. I woke up to a panic attack this morning and felt like drawing. Maybe I should've saved this for FCAU lol. Yk...with Casey being half-Kraang and his Kraang side treating him and his mom poorly and yada yada all that--

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I got disowned.

[env0writes]

Deciding Embers Vol.4, 12.27.23 “This Owned”

Absence makes the heart grow stronger Or forgetful And yet when your presence lacks The tension slowly slacks And draws to unbitter, unbridled conclusions Let us making this parting official Striving towards that strength

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist!   Photo by @mynamemeanscloud

[karrenseely]

Swings

My mood has been swinging between okay and depression and anxiety today. Back and forth, back and forth and all around in a chaotic spin. I had hoped I would be feeling much better by now with all the treatments I've been getting... but at the most all I can say is I'm not suicidal anymore.

I've only ever been truly happy once in my life that I can remember. It was the year I graduated college. To me, happiness is contentment. And I was content that year. I felt good. It was a foreign feeling to me, but I basked in it. It lasted for months, though I'm not sure how long beyond that. I worked, I spent time with friends and chosen family. The pain and horror I went through growing up didn't seem to dominate my experience at that time. I don't know why I felt so content then. But I'm glad I did. I'm glad I got to experience that at least once.

I look at young trans folks today and read many of their stories and experiences and it's so different from mine, but in a good way. They talk about experiencing gender euphoria, as actual full blown euphoria when they get to be themselves. It is absolutely wonderful to see. It makes me think about the times that I experienced that. And it's hard to remember. I'm sure it's there, but mostly what I remember isn't euphoria so much as relief, or other times when I just felt shame, or felt like a pervert for trying to be myself.

I can remember shopping w/ an ex-girlfreind before I transitioned and being absolutely terrified, and feeling so much shame. Unfortunately she didn't seem to really understand why. I remember thinking she was exasperated with my fear, but I honestly don't know if she was. I spent some time with her that semester... but then I don't know what happened, but she wasn't part of my life anymore. I can only remember two other times that I spent with her. The first was coming out to her, and her laughing at herself because two of her boyfriends ended up either gay or trans. And the other was about starting a sorority that was inclusive... Even though she wanted me there, I felt like an outsider.

I still believed the narrative I'd been fed by transphobes at the time that I was a fraud, that I was a boy who just wanted to be a girl, but wasn't actually a girl. And so I was terrified of being in female only spaces, even something as vaguely female only as a women's clothing store or in a girl friend's room with other girls. I don't think anyone I was friends with knew at the time that I needed someone to sit down with me in that space and say in a very compassionate way"you're a girl hon, you're supposed to be here, say it with me, you're a girl and there's nothing wrong with you being here. You're a girl, not a pervert."

I never had anyone tell me that I had been a girl all along. Not one person, until years later when I was reading Sophie Labelle's assigned male comics where she introduced the concept to me, and I finally understood. Yes. I'd always been a girl, I'd never been a boy, I had to pretend to be one, but I'd never actually been a boy.

I honestly don't know if it would have really helped to hear all those words, to have someone tell me truly in a completely heartfelt serious manner that it is okay for me to be in those spaces, that it was ok for me to shop for clothes, to use the restroom. But I think it would have. I know friends told me it was ok and that I had nothing to be afraid of, but it always felt to me like they were just saying that to humor me. I'd been conditioned too long and too well to think I was anything but a freak at best, and to expect the worse. And I think a lot of it had to do with I didn't understand that I'd always been a girl. Even now, I get nervous in women only spaces, not nearly as much as I used to, but there is still that part of me that's afraid someone is going to call me a pervert and that I don't belong.

I remember feeling joy sometimes, like at a dance that was organized for us queer kids because we didn't get to be ourselves and/or take the person we actually loved to prom. I remember having a blast dancing with my girlfriend of the time. It is a good memory.

I recall lying in my friend's arms as she held me one afternoon on the couch. Just holding me, it felt so nice. I felt so loved and accepted. She is still one of my best friends even though we don't talk much now. I'm lousy at long distance relationships.

When I lost my childhood counselor and realized if I was going to get to be me, I was going to have to do it all on my own. I sought out a trans friendly psychologist. I told her my name was Karren and she used it from then on, and it felt so good to hear that. To hear someone use my name when they referred to me. It also felt strange because no one had ever done that before, outside of myself in my head.

Unfortunately, most of what I recall of transition, is survival. I'd been disowned, I had no family to fall back on or help me. It was about making sure I had a roof over my head, that I had a job. All the while I was grieving over the loss of everyone I had ever loved, the only home I had ever known. There was the constant fear that I would be on the streets. There was the devastation and hurt I felt when a friend who'd let me stay with her and her mom over the summer accused me of using them, and told me to leave a month before school started. I had spent that time starving because I felt so guilty about her taking me in and using her resources, that I was taking their food and not giving anything back, but grieving so much because I had just lost everyone I had ever known and loved and having so much trouble functioning. I tried to find work that summer but I had zero luck. Not surprising given I was trans, I hadn't legally changed my name yet, and I looked very androgenous because I hadn't fully started living as myself. No one wanted to hire a freak like me. And so I had to find a new place to crash until I could get back on my feet. It was terrifying, and just months after I'd been disowned, here I was losing another safe place.

And that is what I tend to recall, the constant struggle to survive and stay off the streets, to be safe. The constant fear that someone else was going to kick me to the curb. To make matters worse, for my memory anyway, I was dissociating heavily throughout that time and only have a few memories of it. I remember shopping for my first work dress when I finally did get a job as myself. I really loved that dress, a long dress in dark navy blue w/ pink flower print. It was a wonderful dress and it was mine, and I felt I looked good in it.

The day that I changed my name legally, was odd but good. The court official called my deadname, and I had to stand up in front of everyone and answer to it, in my lovely dress. It was terrifying as the process forced me to out myself to everyone in that courtroom, to everyone that was waiting for their turn to stand in front of the judge. But the judge himself was kind. He had kind eyes, and asked me gently if I was sure this was the name I wanted. Then he asked me if I really wanted two middle names, as most people only have one. I said yes I was sure, with a smile because I felt like he cared (I've always had two middle names, but that's a different story). And so he declared my new name as my legal name. And I left that courtroom very happy.

It was very apparent at the time to my coworkers when I finally did land a job that I was very poor. For several weeks I showed up to work in the same dress, day after day. It was all I could afford for nice clothing (I'd grown up in an upper middle class household, I didn't even know cheap thrift stores existed, much less how to shop in places like that that had minimal organization, they were always overwhelming to me. Looking back that makes sense given my ADHD diagnosis many years later). One of them, a wonderful caring young woman, donated several of her old outfits that she didn't wear to me. I was so grateful to her, it was wonderful and amazing to me that she did this. Even though those clothes weren't typically my style, I wore them to work because they were mine, and it meant the world to me that she had given them to me. Also it meant I could wear something other than the single dress I had.

I had to teach myself so many things about being a woman. I didn't have very many female friends yet, and the ones I did have, I was scared to ask these things of them, for fear they'd see me as even more of a freak than I already was (yay hyper-independant trauma response <note sarcasm>). So I taught myself how to do basic makeup. How to do a french braid, that one felt really good to learn, I always wanted to have a french braid. Growing up my sister was in marching band and had to put her hair up for every performance, and often this was in intricate french braids, crowns, and I so wanted to learn how to do that, never did beyond the simple french braid. Never learned how to do just a simple braid on myself well to this day. Ironically, doing the french braid part I find easier, braiding my loose hair that hangs down my back is incredibly hard for me.

I taught myself how coordinate outfits. Though accessories remained a mystery to me for the most part. And somehow, unconsciously, I taught myself how to speak in a way that wouldn't get me misgendered on the phone. How I managed that is still a mystery to me, as to this day I still hate my voice.

The day I woke up from surgery, the first feeling I remember when I could feel that those horrible genitals were no longer there was complete and absolute relief. I cried in relief. Then the nurse and doctor talked with me about how to care for myself, and reassured me that everything was normal. They discussed that my vagina should feel like any other vagina, and had me feel my own, and when I did, I was ecstatic, because they were right.

So I guess there were times I experienced joy in getting to be myself, but it feels like most of it was clouded by grief, pain, guilt, fear, and trying to survive.

So I read these accounts of young trans people's experiences today and I am so happy for the positive experiences they relate, that their are so many young trans people now who get a chance to be themselves, who aren't forced to go through the horror of the wrong puberty. It is amazing, and yes, I envy them a little, with their supportive families, supportive friends. But I'm very happy for them, all the while wishing my family would have been that supportive, that they hadn't put me through the torture that they did and had just loved me and supported me. It's a very had thing to bare, knowing your parents never actually loved you, and wanted you dead. It is a very hard thing.

All the while I am still very aware of how very many trans kids out there who are living a similar experience to mine, whose parents don't support them, who are just trying to survive. Knowing how close I came to not surviving, I often find myself wondering how many of those youth suicides are LGBT+ kids who couldn't be themselves, and couldn't survive. It hurts knowing there's even one trans kid like this, much less the multitudes that there actually are. I wouldn't force that experience on my worst enemy, much less a child. It is why I still dream of creating an LGBT+ halfway house where kids can be themselves, be loved, accepted, and supported. Hopefully someday I'll be well enough and together enough to make that happen.

[aceing-on-the-cake]

CW: Religious Trauma, Disowned by Parents, Familial Abuse(disownment), SI mention, generalized angsty rant

I go through life a lot not thinking about the fact that like I've gotta form an entire support network from the ground up because of being raised in a cult. Like most people when they get kicked out from their house for being queer they have *some people*. Maybe it's extended family, aunts, uncles, grandparents. Maybe it's like a friend group. Maybe it's the friend's parents who are like your surrogate parents already. I don't know. But it's someone. They have people. They have base connections already with which they can make more off of.

But I just, don't.

I left a cult and lost every parent. I lost every sibling. I lost every surrogate aunt, uncle, and grandparent because I already didn't have actual extended family. I lost every friend I'd ever had. I. Lost. Every. Person. I. Knew.

And yeah, you can make more. That's the beautiful thing about humans, they grow and they heal no matter where you put them.

But it takes time, and that's time spent floundering around in my early twenties making stupid mistakes that cost me a lot because I don't have the parents to bounce things off of. That means trying to make friends and coming up with a total of 1 or 2 because all the normal times people made friends, school, college, etc, I was in, a fucking cult.

And like, I keep going. I live by a fuck it you thought I'd off myself out here and so I refuse to ever do so even when I was literally alone. I am out here pulling myself forward inch by inch with coffin-fucking-bloody hands (TM Berklie Novak-Stolz) and I move on and I live and I forget and it doesn't come up every single day of my life that I'm alone, even now, I'm so more alone than a human is supposed to be. I am making a found family but that cannot replace the grandparents I am supposed to know, the aunts and uncles I am supposed to be able to connect to, the parents I am supposed to be able to turn to. It helps, god does it fucking help, but you can't replace those things. And if you can, I have not figured out how.