#and by my parents i mainly mean my mom girlie loves getting mad at me for quite literally nothing every once in a while

[queersolarfandompage]

I’m here to be Queer (Aka my coming out story)

I was a very sheltered, ynsheltered child, if that makes any sense. I had access to the internet and the privacy to do whatever I wanted, yet I was never introduced to topics of sexuality and gender dysphoria.

I gist was introduced to the world of different sexuality in June of 2015, when I found out that gay marriages was legal. This opened up my eyes to a lot of things I hadn’t realized possible. I had found many girls attractive, but I always thought it was something to where as a women I should feel all women are beautiful, or if because they were my friends I perceived them as more attractive. I still found men attractive, so I took on the term BISEXUAL.

That summer was also the summer where I had joined cheerleading, and ooh boi was that an experience. Not only was I surrounded by attractive girls in short-ish skirts, but they were actually pretty nice to me too. (And hot damn do I have a thing for men and women in uniforms, professional or otherwise) Cheerleading was not my thing and I dropped it faster than a rainbow shirt would sell out at an LGBT festival.

By eighth grade I adapted a new term for myself, Pansexual. The feelings I had for romantically didn’t care about gender. I would love anyone and everyone regardless or gender, binary or not. Transgender didn’t really mean much to me. I had a few trans friends, but it still didn’t quite click.

As a child I had mainly been considered a tomboy, with a bit of girliness here and there. (Because of a pretty fucked up childhood) I knew about the different sexual organs, and fantasized about how much easier life would be if I had a penis. These ideals of mine never struck me as strange, only now that I look back at it so I realize. By 11 years old my body began changing, and things began happening. I was in pain a lot from cramps, yet no one understood. My brests grew large, and I felt like I should be proud, because now I would be considered attractive. (Big boobs does not equal attractive I guess) I craved a romantic relationship, wanting the love that my parents used against each other, that my brother wouldn’t show me. I wanted to be loved.

In 8th grade I had my first relationship, then my second. My boyfriend was sweet. We were both shy, texting each other like mad, to confess the feelings that wouldn’t be said in person. I loved him, yet I never told him. In 9th grade we broke up. I still loved him, but I wanted to love myself for once. We haven’t talked since. The summer after we broke up brought more changes to my perspective of myself.

Finally I focused on loving myself. I tried being honest with my feelings for once, and that back fired. By the end of the summer I had locked tight a large part of my emotions, locked so tightly that a different part of my heart escaped. I wanted to be a MAN. But not a man, because I had feminine things I liked, like make up. Not quite Male yet note really female I came out as Bigender. Neither of my parents really said much on the topic, my mom saying she supported me, my dad and stepmom saying they knew I was a tomboy. Neither of them understood. I barely understood.

For the first half of my sophomore year I lived off of that title. Not quite Male, yet not female either. I was still thinking in the subject heavily, feeling unsure of the term. I found a YouTube channel I had run into once before, and remembered the instant agreement I was in with the video I had watched. I had found Kalvin Garrah. I began watching more of his videos, finding I agreed with more and more of his views, even find some that I disagreed with. But what stuck out to me the most was what he believed made a trans person trans. There has to be some dysphoria, a disconnect between the body and the brain, which can be cause by the gender of the brain compared to the gender of the body. Along with that came the idea that gender fluid people just had certain days of dysphoria stronger than others. I realized that had described me perfectly, along with believing that it was ok not to completely conform to the gender by doing things such as wearing make up or painting nails. I had finally found the last term to fit me, transgender. All that was left was to come out. *insert gru meme here* My friends accepted me with open arms, yet my parents still barely had spoken to me. I’d have friendly debates with my father over whether people should respect the pronouns and name change of trans people or not. He supported people regardless of sexuality or gender, but he liked playing devils advocate.

On January 2, 2019 I can out to my father and stepmother as trans. It has hard. My stepmother cried, my dad needed time, and yet I felt like I ruined something of there’s. I was some delicate little flower that had been crushed and stomped on.

“Should we have raised you different?”

“I’m loosing my daughter!” “Youre gaining a son?” “It’s not the same!”

“Give us time.” “It’s gonna take time.” “With time we’ll get your pronouns and name.”

My father told my mother, who I knew would support my but was worried about how she’d take the change, and my older brother, who I was scared would hate me, like he had for most of my life.

Four month in and my therapist brings up a point I had pushed out of my mind completely for my parents sake. Did I want to go on testosterone? Boi did I ever, with feminine features and a voice that could challenge the high notes on a piano I loved the idea. I brought up the topic to my father and step mother. More time was needed, yet progress was being made.

And now you ask, where am I at now? Well in two months I’ll be seeing a doctor about testosterone. Learn all of the altercations it can make, and hopefully begin my journey further into manhood.

I’m still looking for love, yet I’ve accepted that maybe love needs to find me. And maybe as I wait I can love myself instead.

[igottoomuchwriting]

If I Could Tell Her

   It was August after senior year. Connor and Evan have both long been graduated, and have been focusing on their relationship and helping each other heal mentally. They urge each other to go see their counselor when it gets to be too much on one day, remind each other to take their medication, have ringtones set for when the other calls, and have given each other a copy of the keys to their houses.    If you asked Connor, he would say that the focus is on both of them equally. They both have tried commiting suicide, both struggled with anxiety, and had “daddy issues”. If you asked Evan, you would receive a different answer.    Evan makes sure that the attention is mainly on Connor. Evan has a better support system, has been going to counseling for a long time, and has been on medicine just as long. Connor didn’t have these things while growing up, and was only able to start when he was 18, so Evan is always worried about his mental health more than his own. He wants to make sure that he has the love and support he needs to get better.    This is how he is shopping with the one and only, Zoe Murphy.

Zoe and Connor’s relationship isn’t the best. When Connor smoked weed to calm himself down, he would have a crash. All the emotions that he was trying to ignore - sad, angry, hurt - came back all at once. It just so happened that when these crashes happened, Zoe was the one who was around, causing him to lash at her and threaten her. Even though Connor has been getting better and has stopped smoking weed, their relationship doesn’t seem to be getting any better.   “What’s on your mind, Evan? You have been really quite,” Zoe asked. They were sitting in the food court at the mall, eating some fairly large tacos from a new Mexican food vendor that opened up recently.   Evan snapped his eyes up from his phone, stopping mid-text.   “Oh, um…” He looked around the food court, avoiding Zoe’s eyes and fidgeting with the bottom of Connor’s jacket that he had stolen.   “What is with you and Connor’s relationship?” Zoe’s face shifted from caring into neutral, and Evan immediately tried to rephrase. “I mean! Not-Not in a bad way, it has been getting better! And I know it’s not my place to ask, I was just worried? He has just been trying so hard to make it up to you? And I’m not saying that you have to become the best sibling’s overnight, I know that’s not possible. If you asked my to do that with my dad, I wouldn’t be able to do it. I’m sorry, that’s a horrible analogy, you and Connor’s relationship is nothing close between the relationship my dad and I had. It was insensitive for me to say that, I’m sorry, I just-”   “Evan!” Evan stopped talking and snapped his eyes up to meet hers. “I’m not mad, that questions just took me a little off guard.”   “I’m sorry.” Zoe just smiled a kind smile, knowing that him saying sorry was almost like a nervous tick.   The smile immediately dropped.   “Can I be honest with you?” her eyes dropped down to her food. Evan stayed silent and Zoe took this as a sign to continue.   “Well, it’s just…” she sighed and ran her fingers through the ends of her hair. “I don’t trust him. I know that seems like an insensitive thing to say, but he has done this before. It seems like he is getting better, he tries to make amends with me, and then the next day he is beating on my door, screaming he’ll kill me! Do you know how terrifying that is?” Evan quickly shook his head.   “I just don’t believe that he actually cares about me. He does this just so he can show mom and dad that he is getting better, then goes and backstabs everyone. I just don’t think I can trust him anymore.”   Evan didn’t know what to say. Out of all the scenarios of what she could have said popped into his head, this was - surprisingly - not one of them. Evan knew that Connor had been getting better. He would call Evan everytime he wanted to smoke weed and when he wanted to hurt himself, giving Evan a chance to help him find healthy alternatives.   Before Evan could think of anything to say, Zoe looked at her phone and cursed.   “Shit, I have to go meet a friend.” She quickly gathered up all her things and threw away her trash. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”   “Y-yeah!” With one last smile, Zoe threw her bag over her shoulder and walked out the doors. Evan watched her go with a sigh, going over their whole conversation.   Throwing away his trash, Evan head to the Sephora in the mall.

  Connor had just gotten off of work, so Evan was waiting outside for him. Without meaning too, the couple had made a routine of the weekends. Evan has Friday through Sunday off, and Connor has Saturday and Sunday, and it became habit for Evan to wait for him at the end of his shift, and then they usually spend the weekend at Evan’s house. As much as Connor and his parents have been trying to rebuild their relationship, Connor still needs a break from time to time. And what better place than his boyfriend’s house?   “Hey, Earth to Tree boy.” Evan snapped out of his thoughts to see Connor standing in front of him, hair down in messy waves and tired look in his eyes.   “Oh! I’m sorry, I was just thinking, you weren’t standing here too long? I didn’t mean to ignore you,” he stuttered out, lightly playing with the bottom of his shirt. Connor gave him a tired smile and shrugged.   “Nah, i just got out here. The girls were trying to get me to keep on my makeup, but I informed them that I have a reputation to uphold.” Evan smiled and they started the walk back to Connor’s car, hand in hand.   “Yes, and that reputation is being upheld very well while working at Sephora.” Connor loudly shushed him.   “Reputation!” Laughter filled the space around them as the both got into the car.

  “You don’t… hate her, right?”   “Hate who?” The couple was sitting in Evan’s room, listening to music and relaxing. They both had a stressful week. Between work, mental health, and family time, they hadn’t been able to talk to each other and destress. Evan knew that was how they were supposed to use this time, but the question was eating him away on the inside.   “Zoe.” Connor gave him a horrified look.   “No! Of course not! How could I hate her?”   “I-I don’t know, it was just a thought. But, um, what do you mean?” Connor pursed his lips.   “She’s perfect, Evan.” He can’t exactly say that the fact that Connor thought this was a surprise.   Evan quietly pulled out his phone and opened up his camera, hitting record, then placed it back on the bed, out of view.   “How is she perfect?” Connor sighed and laid down, placing his head in Evan’s lap.   “Have you seen her smile?” Evan furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded his head. “It’s subtle, but real. Everytime. She never pretends to be happy, and I don’t think she knows how great the makes people feel.” Evan started running his fingers through Connor’s hair.   He continued, “She is a dreamer.”   “What do you mean?”   “When she gets bored, especially when I drive the car, she sits with her foot on her thigh, and starts drawing on her jeans.” Evan chuckled, silently agreeing - he’s seen her do that in the middle of class. “It’s like the stars represent going somewhere more, somewhere far away.” He was silent for a few seconds before he continued. “I’m probably reading too much into it.”   “It, uh, it seems like it’s possible.” Connor nodded.   “Did you know she could dance?” Evan shook his head. “She loves to dance. It doesn’t matter where she is or who is around, she just… dances. And it’s like the world disappears when she does.”   “You notice a lot,” Evan commented softly, keeping his gaze on Connor. Connor hummed and closed his eyes. It was silent for minutes, and Evan was starting to believe that he had fallen asleep. He reached behind him to turn off the recording when Connor began again.   “No one believes that she is a little but of a rebel.”   “Zoe?”   “Oh yeah. Those streaks she put in her hair? Both my parents said no, but she went to a friend’s house and got them done anyway.” Evan barked out a laugh.   “How’d they react?”   “Oh, they were pissed,” he held out the ‘i’, genuine smile on his face. “They thought I put her up to it.” Evan grimaced, but stayed silent.   “I saw her with them. She looked nice.”   “Yeah, she looked really pre- pretty cool,” he quickly corrected, causing Evan to raise an eyebrow.   “Really pretty cool?”   “You heard what I said, Hansen.”   “You can call your sister pretty, Connor. It’s not weird.” Connor said nothing, so Evan decided to drop it.   “She fills out those quizzes.”   He has got to stop saying more after minutes of silence. “What quizzes?”   “You know, the ones in those magazines? The really girly teenage ones?”   “How do you know that?”   “You see things after years of being shunned.” Evan stopped playing with his hair and stared at Connor with a hurt and worried gaze, though Connor would not meet his eyes. “Don’t start. Please.” he plead. Evan stared at him for a while longer, then nodded his head.   “Okay.” Silence once again. Evan knew he would have edit the audio so there wouldn’t be these weird pauses confusing Zoe.   “I think you should tell her.” Connor snapped up into a sitting position, eyes wide.   “Tell her?”   “Well, I mean, yeah, uh… You said she doesn’t know, right? And-and maybe she would like… maybe like to know, that you think these about her.” Connor scoffed and shook his head.   “Yeah, she probably would, but there’s no way she will know.”   “Wh-Why do you say that?”   “How could I tell her? It’s like there’s this,” he angrily throws his hands in the air, looking for the right word, “divide? A great divide. Almost like this invisible barrier that stops us from getting close.” Connor shakes his head chuckling. “The emotional connection between us is too damaged to repair.”   “No it’s not!” Evan yelled. Connor gave him a surprised look, and he immediately looked at the ground. “I-I mean, she, she may really want to talk to you. What if she is just as lonely as you are - but I’m not saying that it’s a competition! I just think that maybe because you guys are siblings, that you should try to repair the relationship? It’s obviously not my place to tell you what to do, cause I don’t have any siblings that I need to get along with or try to fix relationships with. Unless maybe if you count my step-siblings, but I haven’t met them in general so I still don’t have-”   “Evan.” Evan snapped his mouth shut and cautiously glances at Connor, mumbling an apology. Connor smiled and placed a small kiss on Evan’s lips. “I understand you are worried about Zoe and I’s relationship, which is cute-” Evan glares and hits Connor on the arm, “-but you don’t need to worry. Whatever happens to our relationship will happen.”   Evan pursed his lips. He grabs his phone and shuts off the recording and stares at the ground again, unable to bring himself to look Connor in the eyes.   “Okay.” Connor grabs Evan’s hand and pulls him down onto his chest as they lay down.   “Come on, let’s go to sleep. I gotta make up lost time from talking to teenage girls.”

  Evan sat in Zoe’s room, waiting anxiously. He had texted the teen that he needed to talk, so she sent him to her room while she picked some stuff for her parents. With all this time to think, Evan was starting to regret doing this.   What if Connor finds that he recorded their conversation? Would he get mad? What if he came home while they were listening to it and got the wrong idea? What if Zoe thinks this is all some prank, and Evan ends up driving the space in the siblings’ relationship even farther, causing Connor to break up with him because he was trying to do it on his own and he messed it up, causing the Murphys’ to hate him and Connor will be alone with nowhere to go if tension in his family gets bad and - Oh God, what if he-   “Hey!” a voice interrupts his thoughts. Evan snapped his head up and save Zoe at the door. “What’s up? You wanted to talk?”   “Uh, y-yeah!” She closed the door behind her and sat down next to Evan. “So, um, you-you knew how we talked about you and Connor’s relationship, right?” Her face seemed to drop, but not inherently upset. Good start. “Well, I talked to him about it and I recorded it, but he has no idea I recorded so this isn’t staged. He talks about things he’s noticed and his feelings and-” He cuts himself off, shoving his phone in Zoe’s direction. “Just listen.” She glanced down at the phone and back to Evan. She grabbed the device and hit play.   Evan doesn’t know how much time passed, but by the end, Zoe was close to tears. They sat in silence, neither of them knowing how to break the silence. Evan wanted to comfort her, but he has never experienced anything like this before, so he doubts anything he would say would help.   “I never knew he noticed anything,” she whispered. “And, a barrier? Is that why he doesn’t talk to me?” Evan shuffled awkwardly, deciding to neither confirm or deny anything.   She was silent for a few moments. “I’m not perfect.”   “You’re pretty close.”   “How?” she grilled, voice cracking.   “Well, um, if you compare yourself to Connor and I, we have anxiety and Connor has depression - though I wouldn’t be surprised if he has something else too - you seem… flawless. There’s nothing wrong with you. Or maybe there is, and we just don’t know it- and I’m not saying mental disorders are wrong or make you anything less, it’s just… If you look at it from Connor’s point of view,” he diverted eye contact and coughed, throat feeling dry. “You are… pretty perfect.” Zoe barked out a laugh and shook her head.   “I didn’t think he noticed anything.”   “He noticed more than you think.”   “He liked the streaks?”   “Oh, he seemed, uh, really happy that you rebelled against your parents.”   “Kinda like I was following in his footsteps?” Evan smiled and nodded in silent agreement. They sat in silence again, but this time, it was comfortable.   “Can you send me this?” She asked. Evan quickly agreed and prepared the text message.   “I should, uh, get going. Connor is getting off work soon.”   “Yeah, sure!”   Zoe walked him to the front door, stopping him at the door.   “Thank you, Evan. Really. I think… I think this will really help our relationship.” Evan smiled and with one last hug, they went their separate ways.

[joyfeelstheocean]

beach daaaaay

today me and my boyfriend and a couple friends went down to the beach today and we did some tarot, played with my new singing bowl! and played in the water a bit, definitely helped my inner child when i did stuff my mom told me not to do as a kid like not going deep into the water because tides and that’s understandable but i just feel like i missed out of my “rebellious” teenage years because i always followed the rules and never did anything dangerous mainly because i didn’t want to die and get hurt and secondly because i didn’t want to disappoint my parents so today was super fun! the water was cold and the air was fresh which is very refreshing since we basically live in a dust bowl… we went to a few metaphysical shops and i picked up the singing bowl i was talking about and i may just have found a new addiction! also 123 angel numbers just showed up while writing this which to me means like i am progressing in my life and i am on the right path!! super happy about that, also got that wild unknown tarot deck that looks scary, the deck case and the book for a bit wet so it warped a bit which sucks but it’s oki the cards are fine and still so smooth! also found this locally owned cute little book store that had all the recent novels and little tote bags and cute tingz like that i could’ve spent hours in there but i didn’t want to put my friends through that, it’s kind of weird i love the look and the feel and the aesthetic of books and the thought of reading books but it is hard for me to start a book because of my ADHD which sucks!!! i also bought a new book titled “The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue” which has always caught my eye but i had to get it today of all days really excited to read it hopefully i actually can! also we had pad thai today and it was supppppeeeerrrr good and the chili oil fucked me up! anyways i’m home now and today was a 9/10 minus my mom getting mad at me over the phone telling me to come home which made me anxious because i’m expecting to get yelled at in the morning… if it wasn’t for that 10/10! goodnight girlies cya tmrw hehe

- june 14th 2021 1:31 am

[jenni42085]

Writing Prompt: Week Four

Writing Prompt

Topics: Swimming pool, gardening, & leggings

Week Four: July 5, 2020

She stared into space with nothing in view but just stared trying to figure out how she got here.  She didn’t have a bad life but she wonders if she would have waited longer would her life maybe have turned out different, but life is like that sometimes I guess.  Already on one road wondering what the other one would have been.  Wondering if it would have been easier and less stressful.

She enjoyed the fruit of the road she is traveling on now but still wonders.  Her children were what she lived for but was it worth it when their father was worthless.  Celeste stayed with him even though he cheated on her, broke her heart, and stopped working to help support their family.  When he had given her an STD while she was pregnant she ignored it and stayed.  She was thankfully for good friends and family who were always there to help.  

“Mommy, what are you doing?” Her daughter Bella asked.

Unsure of how long she had been sitting there staring into space she refocused her eyes on her little girl who looks like her only darker and with curly hair. Her heart knows that Bella and her brother deserve the world and then some but wonders what holds her back from making a change.

“Nothing just thinking.  What are you doing?” She replies playfully while pulling Bella to her and tickling her.

Giggles fill the room helping Celeste relax.  Moments like this helped her feel centered and help her feel like staying a little while longer on this road she has taken is not so bad.

“Mommy, we need to leave now or we will be late for Aunt Anna and Uncle Andrew’s swimming party.  I have my suit on under my clothes so I can jump in as soon as I get there.” Bella stated proudly.  She was five going on fifteen some days.

“Ohh yeah it is close to being time let’s get your little brother then we can leave.  Ok?”

“Is daddy going to come with us?” Bella asks in a tone that lets Celeste know that she is only asking is just to be asking.  She knows deep down her dad will never come over to hang out with her god parents, but she asks anyways.  Celeste looked at the little girl and felt sadness because she loves her daddy and wants him there but knows he will never go.   The friendship between her and Anna was slowly developed at work and now the two were pretty much inseparable.  At work when projects happened they would always put them together and everyone knew that where one was the other was.  Anna had always had a big heart and wanted to help.  Anytime Celeste needed a ride, a meal or, a babysitter Anna was there.  Even when she got married to Andrew, Celeste had realized that Andrew was the perfect fit for her best friend with the big heart.  

And even though she was happy that her friend had finally found happiness, she was sad about the fact that her boyfriend of five years of being together and two kids has never thought about marrying her.  Has never even brought it up in passing to see how she felt about it.  It would make her feel like she wasn’t worthy of it even though her friends would tell her otherwise.  What made her stay was her kids even though their father wasn’t a real father.  When Bella first started talking she called Andrew ‘dada’ and not Mick.  Even when Anna and Andrew would stop by the kids would gravitate to Andrew and Anna.  

Her son, Noah would follow Andrew around like a little duckling. Anna would often send her videos of Noah bonding and being a good toddler with Andrew and she wondered why when he was home with Mick he would tear up the house and throw temper tantrums. It should have made Mick upset but he didn’t say anything just would go into his man cave and play his video games and ignore the fact he had a family.

Running her fingers through her now gray hair she pulled it into a messy bun and got the kids ready to go.  She hasn’t felt attractive since Noah was born and didn’t want to swim so even though she packed herself a swim suit she wore some capri leggings and a tank top.  When she walked past the man cave to get Noah’s diaper bag, Mick was still there playing games unaware that he was missing the kids most important moments in life.

She had hoped that since her mother had died and his father had died that he would have stepped up to be the best parent possible and spend as much time with them.  But instead he plays games.  He goes out at night alone.  Taking her car and debit card with out asking.  Even when she hid those things he still managed to find them when Celeste was asleep and go out and do only God knows what.

“Mommy is daddy not coming?”  Bella asked as she got in the car with her water wings that Anna had gotten her.

“No, he’s tired baby.”

“He never wants to come with us.”  Bella whined.

“I know honey and I’m sorry but you’ll see Auntie and Uncle.”

The little girl sighed and looked sad at the thought that her dad is never going to spend time with her like he would promise her.  Celeste feels hurt and upset about all the promises from Mick and nothing happens.  Feeling overwhelmed by all the racing thoughts made a single tear come down her cheek.  She quickly wiped it away and dried her hand off on her soft black leggings.  

“Auntie!!”  Bella squealed as she got out of the car.

Anna greeted her with open arms and a big hug.  Anna and Andrew currently didn’t have any kids even though Anna really wants one but once she made the comment that God hasn’t given her one of her own because she is helping Celeste with hers.  Ever since that comment she felt guilty because Anna and Andrew would be amazing parents, and because they were constantly helping her with her kids that they didn’t have time to really try.  She knew that if they do have a child, they wouldn’t be available as they currently are so maybe she was holding them back.

Whitney and her family was already there enjoying the pool and sunny weather.  Whitney had started at the same time as Celeste and the three of them had bonded and called themselves ‘The Three Amigas”.  Anna noticed the melancholy expression that Celeste has so her and Whitney went to the side garden away from the kids to talk.  Celeste and Whitney shared the hammock while Anna sat on the ground working on the fairy garden she had promised Bella a few weeks ago.

“What’s wrong?”  Anna asks while taking a sip of the sangria she had made.

“I think the road I’m currently on is not the road I should be on.”  Celeste replies.

“The road?  What’s wrong with it?” Whitney asks curiously.

Anna shook her head, “I don’t think she means the physical road but her life.”

“Exactly.”  Celeste replies happy that one of them knew what she was talking about.  “I just think I’m stuck and don’t want to be but then I worry of what will happen if I stay on this road much longer.”

The two women nod their head in understanding, but unsure if they should be honest or just let her vent.  They had been through this a few times with her and every time she would stay and make excuses of why she couldn’t leave him and every time they would support her no matter what she decided to do.  After all that is what friends are for.

“Well, I’m assuming you mean Mick.  And you already know how we all feel about him and his lack of being an adult, a boyfriend, and a father or even a man.  We can’t make you leave him.  You have to come to it on your own.”  Anna stated.

“I know but I don’t want to do it alone.”

Whitney chimed in, “Girlie, you are already alone doing it all.  He never comes out to these get togethers.  He doesn’t care for those kids or you.  Whenever you truly need him he is nowhere to be found.  We and mainly Anna and Andrew have been there to help with no questions asked.  What would your momma think if she was still alive?”

After the venting session the women went back to the pool with everyone.  Celeste didn’t feel like changing so she dipped the unclothed part of her leg in the pool and laid back under the umbrella.  Despite the kids and the adults being loud she managed to drift off to sleep.  Her dream took her to the garden at her dad’s house and her mom in the outfit she had on when she died.

“Momma?”  Celeste said curiously.

“Hi ‘Leste, I was wondering you were going to come here and see me.  It’s been four years.”  Astrid stated sweetly.

“I know it has been four year but didn’t know you wanted me here.  Where is here by the way?”

“Well you are dreaming but I came down because it feels like you really need me.”

Celeste shakes her head and embraces her mom in a hug.  Even though it was a dream the hug felt real and she could still smell her mother’s familiar scent.  “I do need you momma.  I just don’t know what to do or how to do it.  I feel like leaving would make my life worse.”

Astrid nodded her head in understanding.  “I know but you know there is more out there for you.  When I went away I asked God to give you the best support system possible and you have it but you need to use it and not abuse it.  Mick is never going to change.  You and my grand-babies deserve better.  I thought I raised you better than that.”

“But would you be mad if I left him?  I feel like leaving isn’t the best idea.  I feel like leaving is me quitting.”

“He doesn’t add anything to your life other than stress.  It’s not quitting when in a two player game only one is really present.  You can’t make him want to be an adult.  It’ll hurt and be scary at first but it will be worth it in the end.  I promise you that.  Just do it quick like a band aid.  Don’t drag it out.  It’ll be worth it.”

“Ok momma.”

“Good, now wake up and enjoy the party with your friends and the kids.  Anna doesn’t know it yet but this is her last time to drink for about nine months.  I love you sooo much and miss you but I watch every day for you and the kids.  It’s going too be alright.  I promise.”

“Momma . . . “ Celeste started but something started pulling her away from her mom she was drifting back into reality.  “I love you.”

“I love you to girlie.  You ok?  You’ve been knocked out for almost an hour and it’s hot.  I was starting to worry.” Anna says sweetly.

Celeste nods her head.  “You know what?  I’m actually good.  Do you think Andrew and Lucas would mind to help kicking Mick out and changing the locks on the house?”

Anna notices a different posture about Celeste and decides to strike while the iron is hot.  “Sure, I don’t think they would mind at all.”  She was about to take another sip of sangria and Celeste stopped her.  

“Maybe you should drink some water it’s better for you.”  Anna shrugged at the comment but got a water anyway.

After alerting the men of what had to be done, they dried off and went to the hardware store for new locks for the house.  As Celeste was driving home she felt relief.  Mick tried to put up a fight and tell her he would change but she ignored him and gave him his small bag of clothes and his precious X-box but not the controllers or the games she had bought him.  After he had left she felt sad but happy, before she could think to hard about it Anna and Whitney were there with Chinese and junk food for a sleep over with her and the kids.  She knew that she had the best support system and it was really showing and now going on the different road wasn’t feeling to scary anymore.

[ocfanfiction]

Part 1 / 2

Part 3

The next day at school was something else. Bakugou had found her before school stating that ‘he wanted to speak with her’ before class began. So they met in a normally empty hallway, Cassie fiddled around with the cord of her earbuds while Bakugou scowled at her. 

“W-what did you want to talk about?” 

“Are you going to act any different?” She blinked.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean acting all girly now that you and I are dating?” She blushed at the words.

“D-dating is such a serious word, how about seeing each other or… being really close?” Bakugou had no clue why she was acting all screwy when it came to a simple decision of words, but he moved on. 

“Answer me!” She jumped a bit.

“Different how?” 

“You know what I mean, stupid, I mean getting all giggly and girly whenever I do anything or when you see me. Asking to go and eat lunch together or something else like that.” She looked to him.

“No… but did you want me to?” How she asked it implied she knew that all guys were longing for the day they could get to call a girl theirs or have it where the girl cling to them and they got to do whatever they wanted. He growled a bit to her before turning to walk off, Cassie huffed and reached for his arm. “Bakugou, stop, just answer me.” He stopped and turned back to her.

“No…” She smiled a bit.

“You know, you don’t really have to fight it, you’re a guy. I know the needs you might have, girls have them too you know.” 

“Oh really?” She blushed.

“W-well maybe not, we are more mature than guys anyways-” 

“But not in terms of hormones, so tell me, what is it that you need?” Bakugou asked. She blushed as he cornered her, feeling the pressure of his presence, she found herself thinking about one of the main reasons why she even began liking him in the first place. She was about to spill when the school bell had rung, she sighed with relief only to cover her mouth in hopes that Bakugou wouldn’t get mad. “Tch!” He moved off of her and spoke, “Come on… before we’re late.” She paced herself and followed behind him, she caught up and was walking beside him now. She wondered if this was the reason why couples walked together, why they hold hands, why they enjoyed being close in the hallway, all of that. It was something near heart pounding, but she found herself enjoying it more than she needed to.

“Oh, I forgot to give you my number…” Cassie’s voice was small.

“Huh?” She looked to Bakugou.

“It’s just my phone number… I figured if we’re dating you having my number would make it easier for you to find me or to talk whenever you want to.” Hearing this, Bakugou shrugged it off as girly tendency. 

“I’ll give it to you after school…” He paused, “Oh, I almost forgot, I don’t want you walking home with anyone else anymore.”

“What? How do you know I walk home with anyone?” 

“Don’t worry about that, but I want you to stop because it’ll be hard to walk home with me if you're stuck with a bunch of idiots all the time.” She stopped, watching him as he continued to walk ahead of her. He wants me to walk home with him? Cassie was panicking. While this wasn’t any fairy tale or movie scene, she could her heart beating in her chest, she could see his hand and almost wanted to grab it, but instead she kept her hands down at her front with her head down a mad blushing mess.

“Okay…”

…

Bakugou and Cassie kept their distance and didn’t interact at all during class any differently than normal, even when lunch came around they did everything like normal. One thing that Bakugou noticed even before he started to pay more attention to Cassie was that he could never find her during lunch, not hanging around those morons or by herself. He figured she just didn’t eat, Bakugou got his lunch and some extra and decided to give that to Cassie, while walking through the empty hallway he was mentally killing himself. She won’t even want this, I’ve never seen her eat, she probably has anorexia. Bakugou walked around for a little while wondering where she was. He was about to go and search for her without the food when he decided to put it down in a random empty classroom.

“Where the hell is she?” He kicked the door open only to elicit a cry from someone inside. “Huh?” The person turned and faced him.

“W-what are you doing in here?” He found Cassie in the room, she was moving to face him as she was pale from his sudden entrance. “W-what are you doing in here?” She repeated, they remained silent looking at each other when Bakugou looked off first.

“... I got some extra food, I was looking for you.” Cassie walked over to him.

“You couldn’t finish it?” He shook his head.

“No… I just want you to have it.” She blinked for a second as he sat down at a desk that was close to him, Cassie moved to join him and sat across from him. Bakugou pushed the little bit he got for her to the middle before he spoke up. “Why are you here anyways?” Cassie smiled a bit.

“I don’t like the cafeteria. This class is always empty during lunch time so I get a few minutes to relax.” Bakugou nodded, he hadn't looked at her since they sat down, but he was glancing hoping to see the food move. 

“Do you even eat or what?” 

“Of course I eat, if I didn’t I’d be dead.”

“I never even see you even drink water, what kind of food do you eat?” She smiled proudly, 

“You’d be shocked to know I actually eat a lot more than what it seems. Usually at my house my parents buy groceries every week thanks to me eating everything that weekend.” She paused, “I eat more than my brothers.” Bakugou could see she wasn’t lying.

“Then why don’t I see a figure? Really you look like a guy, I just thought you were a skinny boy.” Cassie blushed.

“Vibrator? Skinny boy? You sure think a lot about things like that.” He grunted.

“I told you I wasn’t going to call you that anymore!”

“I didn’t say that, I mean from before.” Bakugou growled and gritted his teeth, Cassie noticed this and reached for the sweet bun he had got. She smiled. “I love sweet things!” He hummed. 

“You do?” She smiled and nodded. “Well I just got something I figured would taste good.” Cassie made a face and unwrapped the bun and with a happy face she bit into it. 

“It’s so sweet!” She gleamed and chewed the bread with all of her energy. Bakugou had been watching her, her eyes were closed, so he was free to do this. She finished that piece she immediately went to bite again. “Bakugou?” He looked off hoping she hadn't seen him, “Did you pay a lot for this stuff?” He blinked.

“What? No, it was only two more.” She nodded before setting the bun down, she dug around in her bag before taking out the money he had paid. “I don’t want your money! I got this stuff for you!” Cassie blinked and looked to him.

“A second ago you said it was extra you decided just to give to me.” Bakugou bit his lip and harshly rested his chin on his palm.

“Whatever…” He grumbled, Cassie felt embarrassed as she put the money away and resumed eating the bun. They were together in very awkward silence until Bakugou spoke up. “That’s right,” He sat normally, “I forgot to tell you, your mom called last night.”

“Huh? What for? I told her we had worked everything out.” 

“I don’t really know, but she was talking to my mom for a long time though, when she got off she told me to be sure things were alright between us, she wants us to work on homework together.” 

“What?” Cassie made a face, “Mommy knows I don’t even care about doing homework alone, let alone with some smart ass like you who is just going to tell me how stupid I am.” He smirked.

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Cassie groaned.

“So what, it’s like tutoring?” He nods.

“Yeah, my parents really want me out of the house, especially when they realized you were a girl.” Cassie suddenly smiled.

“Having a little trouble in the girl department?” Bakugou blew up.

“I’ll kill you!” Cassie laughed as she moved away from the desk.

“Alright, so when do you want to come over?” He calmed down a bit.

“Today, we’ll do this for two weeks until my mom gets over this.” Cassie nodded.

“Alright.” They sat in silence for a while.

“... We’ll walk home together.” Cassie hummed.

“I already told you I didn’t want you walking home with anyone anymore anyways, this will give me the excuse to stay with you for sure so no one will think anything of it.” Cassie realized that they had been keeping their relationship a secret, they haven't told anyone about it, mainly because they were waiting until they went on for a bit longer. That was for Cassie.

In Bakugou’s case, he tried to keep his original thought of taking Cassie down for all the shit she brought him. His mind was convinced of nothing else and wound up believing that even after he realized he had been thinking about what her figure looked like.

...

    After school they walked home, in the blind eye of their classmates, they were able to walk home together until they got on the path back to Cassie’s house. 

“Remind me again why we choose my house?” Cassie asked.

“What? Is there something wrong with that?” She shook her head to Bakugou.

“No, nothing, it’s just I figured you’d want to do things at your place where you could be more comfortable.” He scoffed.

“No… I’d rather have you comfortable.” What he said was kind, Cassie made a stupid face and leaned over to push him as they walked. 

“Look at how sweet you’re getting, it hasn't even been a full day yet!” Bakugou was about to hit her when Cassie stopped pushing against him. “You know, I like this.” She paused and looked at him with a giant smile, “Really, it’s nice.” Bakugou looked off leaving Cassie to simply giggle at him as they walked together in silence down the sidewalk...

[alexscloset-blog1]

If you come from a Latino background, you know what I mean when I say that the “machismo” ideology is still prevalent.

My family is pretty catholic and pretty Mexican in that there are a lot of patriarchal ideologies they follow, mainly my dad. My mom is wonderful and has become more “woke” as the kids say. But my dad is definitely very entitled in his masculinity and always has been. I grew up with him making weird jokes about having a gun in case a boy comes around trying to date me. It was weird and traumatizing? 

Anyway, he also has pretty dramatic anger issues, so that added to the reason why I did not want to come out to him. 

He was incredibly entitled and always showed how fragile his masculinity really was in that he expected my mom to perform gender roles. Which she did. But probably not to anger him. She would cook, clean, do his laundry and still look pretty for him since that is what he expected. 

This idea in his head that he’s had for years just proves how he definitely expected a very linear, straight life from me. Get a boyfriend after college, get married and have kids. Just to feed into the norm of the family structure. 

He would always make comments about how I looked, how I need to be more like my mom (lady-like), and would just promote being his only daughter.

He also always made it vocal when he would get mad when my brother would sort of perform out of his gender norms. For example, my brother collects a lot of Stitch plush dolls, so he always makes comments about how he’’s acting childish or that his choice was too girly. He would never just accept us for who we are and would find any rhyme or reason to bring us down so that we fit this mold he created in his head.

I loved growing up in my Mexican household, don’t get me wrong, but the granular details about the ideologies my parents hold definitely steer me away from referencing back to it all as a positive experience.

[fierceandunordinarydiva]

“It’s not right But it’s okay I’m gonna make it anyway Close the door behind you Leave your key I’d rather be alone than unhappy” – Whitney Houston One of my favorite things to see, is women celebrating the successes of other women. It’s actually brought me to tears when I have seen it happen in front of me. When my daughter was about 17 or 18, I sat in on a parent watch day at her ballet school. As the girls waited their turns to watch each other fly and twirl across the room, snaps and a few claps rung out when someone did well, but mostly there were standard and even as a courtesy, clearly a  guarded but kind support of each other. It’s a competitive industry, I get that. There was however ONE girl, a lovely, beautiful strong dancer, who seemed to have a secure sense of self as she stood there. And as my daughter flew across the room and nailed a triple pirouette and the courtesy snaps began, this girl bursted with praise, saying her name and acting like a proud big sister and said “That was amazing, you are beautiful, so proud of you!” I was watching and I started to cry. WHY did I cry!? OF COURSE it was because it was sweet, and I was a proud mom, but part of the reason it touched me, was because between women, THIS IS RARE. Apathy to veil competition is more more prevalent on the daily or worse, shaming and bullying. WHY is it so hard for us to celebrate and cherish each other?

The term “Slut-shaming” is broad, but it’s what I want to discuss or attempt to. A large portion of society thinks it is reserved for a specific group of women making certain choices. I actually see the term covering a bigger range of people. Young girls, teens, young women, middle aged women as well as older women. It affects us all. Over the years, I have been a part of and witnessed women shaming other women, across all parts of life and spectrums.  I want to dig into to where it starts, and try to pose some questions that will spark discussions, so each of us can try to figure it out for ourselves.

The Younger Years

I feel as though female shaming for lots of us in the 30 or older generations, started in the home. It was part of the baby boomer generation of our parents. The modest era. It was textbook. Men can express their sexual freedom and physical security, and not be shamed; women cannot for fear of being shamed and called a whore or a slut. Growing up I heard things like,

“You can’t watch that, it’s too risqué” “No makeup until you are older, or you will look like a hooker” “You cannot leave the house like that” “If you wear that skirt you are asking boys to see you as a sex machine” “You should probably cover up, you don’t want guys to get the wrong idea”

What is the “wrong idea”? I have always been confused as to why my choices in attire should somehow also include the sensitivity to the men or boys around me that weren’t able to control themselves. Their issues somehow overrode any feelings I had of pride in my body or excitement about slaying an outfit I was wearing. Instilling a fear that I may be mistreated, harassed or raped because of my clothing, putting the accountability not on the other person, but rather on the girls with their choices in clothing. Parents, what message are we giving to our girls, when we say these things?

I do believe that the parents of my generation and beyond, are working to change these behaviors, but it’s a SLOW process. There are a few factors that contribute to the speed of this changing – mainly because the generations before that were RAISED this way, are now running our country and mostly white, misogynistic men in power. They are making and enforcing rules in offices and schools, they are bribing and paying off sexual abuse incidents so they will go away, they are making laws about our bodies and taking our rights away. That in itself is harmful to any parent or child trying to change the path of their body consciousness and self-worth.

The Teen Years

Middle school and high school are some of the hardest years EMOTIONALLY for everyone. Your hormones are raging, you are trying to fit in, you are clashing with your parents or guardians, life is a hot mess and then add pimples and braces and good lord, I never want to go back to that time ever.

“I’m bossy/ I’m the first girl to scream on a track/ I switched up the beat of the drum” — Kelis

I experienced a lot of shaming from girls in school. At the time I saw it as cruel and mean. I look back now as a mother and an adult, and see it as sad and systematic. We all lashed out because of insecurity and inadequacy issues. We took the shaming most of us had in our homes, and when faced with the ultimate vulnerable  situation aka High School, we came armed with weapons. What better than to harm others with than what harmed you – surely those will work! Every girl in high school is struggling with so many things, and for some reason, the females around them are the only ones they find safe to lash out at. The boys around them are comparing them to other girls or worse photoshopped ones in magazines and movies. Young girls see that and we immediately let it affect our self-worth, let it define us. And all at once the battle for unattainable perfection begins, and the meter to measure our progress is set by the women and girls that surround us.

“To love ourselves and support each other in the process of becoming real is perhaps the greatest single act of daring greatly.” – Brene Brown

Right now, mainly girls, in public schools all over the country, are being sent home because of what they are wearing. Sleeveless shirts, skirts too short (but not cheerleaders cause you know, that’s ok…) ripped jeans, the list goes on. The main reason the administration says is because “Wearing those things is DISTRACTING to others in class”. On the evening news here recently, there was a local high school, reporting that students were being sent home for ripped jeans. The group asked to go home was outside of the school with the news reporters. The reporter asked one of the girls outside the building, why they were being sent home. This young girl had a brilliant and calm reply: “They say our jeans are distracting, so they are taking us out of class when in reality, what is really distracting is taking us out of class and not letting us learn.” She is my new favorite human – her parents should be proud.

Young Women – we are adults, KIND OF

Finally we are out of that competitive horrible judgemental place and we can get on with our lives, AMIRITE!?  Oh wait. The real world is just as bad…there is just sugar put on things to make them seemingly easier to handle or ingest.

Now we have to deal with shaming in the workplace or in college life. With pressure of what we wear or what we don’t wear. Social media adding an ENTIRE new cog in that wheel, so things like adult videos and nude photography – will also come into play. In preparation for this post, I made a call out to hear other women’s stories. I got a few public replies but it was the several private ones that were shocking. There were women being asked to wear certain types of shirts and bras in their office, as to not be distracting to the men on staff. This HAS to be illegal. But of course no one does anything. It’s seen as okay in schools and places of business because it is shelved under “employee rules” or “Codes of Conduct”. There was a young woman who was a nanny and wore a hip cute bikini to the YMCA and was told by staff they were getting comments from other mothers and that she had to cover up if she came back. How humiliating! There was a woman who was told if she wore white, and her bra was visible, she must wear a tanktop underneath, as to not tempt. These stories were infuriating to me. How on earth is this still happening and being excused? How about you not hire humans that can’t be adults and control themselves. On that note, let’s touch on how it makes us feel, when a young adult woman makes the choice to be a stripper, escort or prostitute.

Treat ’em like a prostitute (Do What?) Don’t treat no girlie well until you’re sure of the scoop – Slick Rick

Several months ago, I had a conversation with a friend of my daughters via Facebook.  She made a post about the slut shaming and revenge porn backlash about social media celebrity Blac Chyna. It was over a dirty break-up and her ex decided to shame her revengefully by sharing private nude photos of her, and a private intimate video of them – putting it into the world for all to see without her permission or knowledge. This young girl said in her FB post something to the effect of (she has since deleted the post or I would quote it) “Don’t know why Chyna is so mad at those nude pics being leaked, she’s is a stripper, she does it anyways. You act cheap you get treated cheap”.  I decided it was important that I start a dialogue with her publically about this. Ok I am not being honest, I was mad – and I LAID into her. Spouting so many details and points, I am sure her head spun. Her response was “She is a ho, so that’s why she is being treated that way. She needs to respect herself so others will respect her”.

It felt fundamentally wrong to hear that statement come out of a woman’s mouth. There is a GIGANTIC difference between being confident in your body, and choosing to do a job that gives you control over that body – and another human, male or female, taking that power away from you in order to harm or shame you. This young girl isn’t alone, I see different versions of this ALL OVER the media and around me. How often as a woman have you heard or even said these statements (don’t worry, I am guilty of some, too):

“She needs to put some clothes on, no one wants to see all that”

“Did she paint those jeans on?”

“People with asses like that should not wear pants like that”

“She really should get her money back for purchasing so little fabric”

“What is she even wearing!?”

“How did her friends let her wear that?”

Ladies. We have to do better.

ADULT WOMEN – Now we are MOTHERS, raising NEW WOMEN!

So we take what we learn, unlearn ourselves and are determined to raise a more independent, more confident and more secure woman in our own daughters, RIGHT? Wrong. You know that old adage “We grow up to become our mothers”? Well, it drives me crazy, as I have worked my ass off to be the exact opposite of my mother and how I was raised. However it still happens. The insecurities and prudish ways of my mother peeked through out of sheer fear of putting my sweet daughter into the rough misogynistic world! It was about me doing what those girls in high school resorted to. I was worried that she would be hurt, judged and shamed, so I took every measure to make sure it didn’t happen. When Madison was 11 she wanted to wear makeup. I was horrified. She already had girls at school teasing her. WHAT is she thinking, that would surely make it worse!

It was then that my husband gave me that cabin pressure/airplane landing moment, he said “You are doing exactly what your mom did to you when you act like this. And you grew up, had issues with friends and with your body because of it. How about you do the opposite. Let her explore. Let her find herself and feel beautiful in her way. Let her find her own way and support her regardless.” And with his help and reminders, that’s what I did. And it WORKED.

I recently witnessed an exchange on professional ballerina Michaela DePrince’s instagram when she posted a photo where she was partially topless. There was a comment from a Dance Mom – whose young daughter is a fan of DePrince. It was a shaming comment to make her feel badly about posting a photo that was partially topless and she told her to have more “self respect” and that it made her not want her daughter to see it. DePrince’s response was so lovely and strong. It was exactly how I hope this next generation of women would respond to shaming by another female, or anyone for that matter. But alas I know that sadly, Michaela’s reply isn’t the norm, YET.

Why do we as parents automatically shame the female when we feel that something is different, too expressive or god forbid, scandalous? We need to challenge ourselves and each other to take a step back, to not react impulsively, to resist the urge to immediately degrade the choices of females. I am so concerned as to why our first instinct isn’t praise, support and love and I am convinced that we need to start training our minds to start making that change.

Doesn’t it seem like since day one for each of us, we have been competing for the same thing? The approval and appreciation of what society thinks the perfect woman is. Goals of having the words “Perfect” and “full package” being used to describe us. Some of us even find men that says things like “Arm candy” and “Dime piece” or even “Prize” to make us feel worthy and loved.

My fear is that this typical woman, who needs this approval, grows up to excuse an abuser. She is a victim of sexual assault, or even worse. I grew up with some many instances that were discussed here, and I KNEW it wasn’t right, but it was ok and excused by everyone around me, so after awhile, it became acceptable. This week in the news, Hollywood mega mogul and producer Harvey Weinstein was accused of sexual assault by numerous actresses. Tons of fellow actors coming to the support of their fellow actresses on social media. Then yesterday, designer Donna Karan of DKNY was quoted at a fashion event when asked about it and came out to defend Weinstein and blame the victims. “You look at everything all over the world today and how women are dressing and what they are asking by just presenting themselves the way they do. What are they asking for? Trouble.” This is a woman who designs sexy women’s clothing.  I spat at the TV. I also have a DKNY bedspread now up for grabs if anyone wants it.

  THIS is what this entire post is about. THIS is where our problem is. Are we giving the next generation of women the tools to combat this type of rape culture blaming? Do all women know their value and worth – are we able to bind together to be a united front when the victim shaming and rape culture blame comes at them full force? I know that the young women of my generation were not able to do that.

I am however hopeful of this next one, because now we are seeing small light coming through the cracks in the once broken spirit of women, a confidence in the new generation of females. Young women that are fierce, that are proud of their bodies, that are not afraid to stand up to a man or an organization to protect their rights. Women that don’t ask how they look in their dresses or if their ass looks big, but instead they own the dress and the ass and give zero fucks what people think of them in it.

Hopefully these young, powerful and body-conscious females can use that security and tenacity to bind together and bond with the women around them. We can show solidarity, love and support rather than apathy, competition and cruelty. To realize that celebrating our female coworkers, peers, friends or even family members, doesn’t mean we are any less fierce ourselves. Celebrating and cherishing the women around us will just create a more powerful sense of self, and a camaraderie that cannot be bought or faked, and will give us a shield and superpower to properly deflect the misogyny in everyday life. It will create a new normal filled with the Alpha Female – taking our rightful place equally among the men in our society and lives.

It’s Not Right, But its Ok… "It's not right But it's okay I'm gonna make it anyway Close the door behind you…

[huh8]

Ok my story here we go. People are asking me for my story about being bigender and I decided to include my story on being bisexual because I thought it was relevant. Yeah it’s pretty long. My apologizes but I decided not to use any names in this story, not even for the people who were really helpful towards me.

 Alright like when I was younger I was always a tomboy. I completely rejected anything feminine (besides long hair.) Back then, I didn’t have a huge identity crisis because my parents pretty much allowed me to like whatever I wanted and didn’t really ever tell me what I was doing made me a “girl” or a “boy.” I was raised as a girl and nobody ever questioned it, I was just a girl who liked doing boy things.

So that was no big deal, I was pretty much ok with myself gender-wise. It wasn’t until late middle school that I started feeling out of place.  Girls would say things to me like “Why don’t you try a skirt?” or “Try makeup!” It wasn’t that I didn’t like makeup, I just felt like I couldn’t like it because I was a tomboy, like I wasn’t allowed. I felt like if I liked girly things, it made me less of a boy. When I came to this conclusion, that I actually did consider myself a boy and realized that I had for a long time. I remembered being a kid, not even in school yet wishing I was born male.

What exactly caused these feelings? I am still uncertain. Maybe it was that all my friends were boys? Maybe I blamed my gender for the fact that I was so lonely? I loved being a girl my whole life. I was proud of being a girl. But in a way, I wished I was a boy.

In high school wanted a boyfriend. This would be my second boyfriend, but I was determined to become the perfect girlfriend because I still felt heartbroken over my middle school breakup. I think it as mainly due to my own thoughts that I wasn’t worthy of a boyfriend because I wasn’t girly enough that I decided to become ultra-feminine in this pursuit. For the first time, I looked for bright colors and skinny jeans when shopping. I even looked up makeup tutorials (even though it wouldn’t be until my second year that I would wear it to school.) I tried to give myself pseudo confidence and started hanging out with anybody who I considered girly. I asked out a few boys and got rejected each time. I didn’t really let this get to me because I knew I was just looking for a boyfriend for the sake of having one.

Eventually I did get a boyfriend, and this made me realize who my friends were. All those girly girls who I thought were my friends went against me, (some were mad because they were single, had a crush on him ect. others were just racist because he was black.) and I was pretty much left without friends. It was hard to go from popular to abandoned, but I did realize that the friendship was based on me pretending to be a feminine girl when I was actually a tomboy. Dating my boyfriend opened me up to a whole bunch of new friends anyway, most of whom were guys.

I retained the feminine look, maybe a little more toned down after that. I started becoming a little misogynistic thinking all girls were backstabbers or fake. Now once again, most of my friends were guys. I would try to convince my guy friends that I was one of them by showing interest in things they liked (even though I already had an interest I tried to exaggerate it.) I even occasionally would ask my friends to use male pronouns towards me. They never would, instead they would say “but you are a GIRL” and this made me mad.  At times pretending I had interest in girls to appeal to them even more. Although I acted like it was obviously a façade, I eventually did develop feelings for other girls.

By the time I was a senior in high school I accepted the fact that I was bisexual and gave up most of my misogynistic ideas. I kept it a secret though. The only time I made it seem like I was attracted to girls was when I was around guys because I felt like they would think it was a joke or that I was trying to be edgy. At times, I would think to myself that there was no way I could like girls, that I was lying to myself, and in some ways it felt wrong.

It wasn’t until after I graduated that I would admit to my boyfriend “I like girls.” All he said was “Oh, you do? Ok.” It was such a relief to tell somebody and it felt great. He wasn’t mad or didn’t believe me, he didn’t question it, he didn’t say it was wrong. I was so afraid of all these things that I had kept it a secret, when in reality it wasn’t such a big deal. The second person I came out to was my best friend. This was really hard for me because I was afraid she would think I had a crush on her and not want to hang out with me. Again it was a great relief to find out that I was afraid for no reason.

Throughout my entire life, even when I was in elementary school, I suffered from anxiety and depression. About halfway through my first year of college, I was prescribed medication for these problems. My first day on the medication my body was still getting used to it and for the first time I felt extremely happy. Ok I was like high as hell. I used this opportunity to come out officially and publicly as bisexual on facebook and tumblr. I received a little bit of support, but mostly indifference. That was just fine for me because the only two people who I was worried about already knew.

Going back in time a little, a few weeks after I came out as bisexual to my boyfriend I told him “I have always considered myself a boy.” The conversation ended there, it was just something that I said in passing. I don’t know what he thought of it, I think maybe he just accepted it but didn’t take it too seriously (like he didn’t think I wanted to be transgender or anything at the time.)

It was on tumblr when I met somebody who was bigender. I read their description and they were into things I liked so I thought I would try to make friends with them because this idea of being both genders was so interesting to me. I think the first thought I had was “You can do that? Wait, I could do that?” I think right away I knew this is what I wanted to be. I tried talking to this person about their gender and they got really mad at me or anybody else who would ask them questions about it. They would say “google it im not an encyclopedia.” Another thing that was really off putting about this person was their posts were like they had a split personality, and their answers to asks would contradict themselves. The more I looked at their blog, I really rejected the idea that I could be bigender because I thought they were really weird.

Luckily, I was able to learn more about the concept of bigender from other sources and didn’t let this one person spoil it for me. I met a new tumblr friend, read articles, and asked advice from my friend who works at a resource center that I consider my senpai in matters concerning lgbt people. I asked all kinds of people their opinions on what gender-neutral, transgender and bigender meant. After I did my research I decided to settle on bigender.

I love being a girl. I am proud to be a girl who likes video games and anime. I am proud to stand up and talk about my experiences as a female. However, even though I had pride for myself as a cis female, I felt like there was a side of me that I wasn’t proud of, a side that I was hiding. This was the side of me that I considered male: The side of me that wanted to be called a bro and wanted men to stop hitting on. Being bigender means I can have both, that I don’t have to be afraid and that I am not less of either.

I decided I “bigender” was the label I wanted to use months before I told anybody. I tried once again to get people to use male pronouns toward me and they still told me no. Eventually, I came out as bigender to my boyfriend.

His initial reaction was completely understandable. He asked if I was sure and if this meant I wanted a sex change. I told him no and that I just wanted to experiment with this idea for a little while. He accepted it, almost too quickly and didn’t ask any further questions. I was sad that he wasn’t asking me questions, because changing your gender, in my opinion, was far more of a drastic change than saying I was bisexual. I think he was just afraid to ask questions. Maybe I his mind, asking questions was a form of rejection.

A few weeks later I decided that this wasn’t just an experiment and I came out to my sisters, and later my parents. My sisters were very supportive and again I think they were afraid to ask questions. My mom had a few questions, and some of them were a little disrespectful in my opinion, but I didn’t blame her because I know that she had never had experience with this sort of thing. She said “That’s ok. AS LONG AS-” Here is a fair piece of advice, anytime you start a sentence with ‘that’s OK as long as/if’ your being disrespectful. She said “That’s ok. As long as you don’t feel like a boy trapped in a girls body.” The worst part is, as I have just explained, is I did feel like that. That feeling was one of the things that lead me to this discovery.

My dad’s reaction was just as disappointing. He said “Ok. How does that affect me?” This made me feel like he was less accepting and more indifferent. I didn’t feel like this was something to be indifferent about like I did my bisexuality. This does affect everyone I tell because of the slight differences and expectations you have for each gender. I mean, I know both of my parents meant well and they accepted me in the end.

I only have one sister who occasionally uses male pronouns for me, which isn’t a big deal because I didn’t really ask them to. My older sisters seem like they are afraid to mention my gender. Not because they are ashamed (or at least I don’t believe so in the slightest), but they are afraid to ask me questions because they think they might offend me as well. I am pretty open to being asked questions, even personal questions because I would rather you ask someone who is directly experiencing it than hear from rumor or incorrect advice.

My boyfriend goes out of his way to use male pronouns for me, or at least not refer to me only as his girlfriend. He noticed that I get really excited when he uses male pronouns for me. He asked me if this meant I was more male, but that isn’t the case. I have just been hiding the male part of me for so long it feels great to have it awknoleged