#ill be back to my bullshit by tommorow dw

[vroomvroomwee]

God the queer experience of meeting wonderful people who are actually kind, compassionate, and thoughtful. Becoming close friends. But still feeling this deep sense of otherness. This deep dissonance between you and them that stems from the fact that they have no idea who you are.

It fucking hurts to have these people hang out with you and like you, and knowing deep down that they won't like the REAL you, but instead this masked persona that you put up for the sake of your own safety. It hurts knowing that every time you talk to them, you know that they're talking to someone else. That someone else is pushing you back and making conversation with your friends. Stealing them from you.

And it's not like we have much choice. People constantly say oh find other queer people, oh just make trans friends, oh you need a community. As if it's that easy. As if we don't already desperately long for some form of recognition, of connection. As if we don't claw our hearts out every night because we want the space next to us to be occupied. To be understood. To be valued. To be worth a damn. To be loved. Some of us just don't have that choice.

It hurts that I can't be friends with these lovely people because of the hand I was dealt. And yeah, I'm ready to hear the "if they don't accept the real you, then they were never lovely people to begin with." True. That's true. But I'm not oblivious to the fact that if I was cishetallo then I would actually have friends. And feel known. And feel seen.

I know we're supposed to love ourselves no matter what and these days you'll basically be torn apart if you so much as insinuate that you're not proud of your identity. But goddammit I'm not. It's hard. And I know trans is beautiful. And queer is beautiful. And it's liberating. But I just wish they knew it too. And it's fucking lonely