#its over a year and my mom is JUST now calling me mati and this is recent like a month man

[mueritos]

Hey! Sorry if this has been asked vegire and I havent foind it or it's personal, but by anychance can you say what age or how you came out? I am very sorry if this is awkward or personal!

I dont mind! This is gonna be long so i’ll insert a read more.

I came out two times. The first was the summer after my freshmen year, so i was like 14? I had already come to terms with not being straight (i identified as a lesbian but also sorta leaning toward pansexual) but my mom kinda just like…knew? She knows when somethings on my mind, and the day i came out, i was quiet. She thought i was thinking about telling her im gay, but really i was deep in thought about my gender. I actually made a comic about this day! I’ll link it here:http://pittssmitts.tumblr.com/private/182523970873/tumblr_p4fd9vGzeK1t02ovy .

I just want to say that in no way was I ready to come out, nor willing to anytime soon. My mother pretty much forced it out of me. It was a really rough patch in my life. I didnt talk to my parents, i hated being home, i barely ate (i nearly relapsed into an ed), i cried so much, and i slept so often. It was awful, and I dont forgive my mom for making me come out like that, because even she wasn’t prepared. Even though it hurt, I’m grateful for it being a learning experience for everyone. I became closer to family.

The second time I came out it hurt more than the first. I was 16. I had already known i wasnt cis, it was just a matter of understanding who i was exactly. I was agender/nonbinary for a while, but after a lot of introspective thinking, i thought fuck it, lets try being a man. I remember it very clearly, it was early in the school week so I texted in my friends’ group chat to call me Matt/Matteo and use he/him. They immediately switched from they/them to he/him, i got to school the next day and they all called me Matt and he and it was wonderful. A lot of things in my head sort of fell into place and it finally clicked for me. I was alive again. I felt very happy and excited, so that thursday I told my mom I wanted to talk to her. She said tomorrow, so I waited. I wrote her a letter in Spanish about my feelings and what i wanted to do about transitioning. Friday came around and I was filled with so much anxiety I stayed home. It was morning and my ma come in to check on me. I couldnt even say the words, i just showed her a spanish headline of a mother accepting her young trans son, and she just knew. I cried a lot. She called me a lot of good things, and I thought things would be ok after that. I gave her the letter soon after, but things got tense again like the first time, especially months after. I made a comic about it too: http://pittssmitts.tumblr.com/private/182524273648/tumblr_p9mbb9CZPE1t02ovy

  Its hard, and it still is. Coming out is a process and it never ends. Its painful and frustrating, especially if you’re trans. Youre suddenly someone your parents never would have expected. They think they don’t know you anymore. It’s been over a year since I came out as trans (December 8, 2017), and for many months in between we acted as if I never did come out. I had conversations here and there with cousins and with close family, but everyone found it hard to understand. Some tried switching pronouns and name, but since I was too scared of causing a disruption, they fell out of it and back into deadnaming me because I never corrected them. Last december was very hard for me, and I’m ashamed to say I relapsed really badly into depression. It was awful. My suicidal ideation was never worse in my life than in that week. I slept all day, I couldn’t look anyone in the eye, I wanted to hurt myself. I thought about a lot of bad things. But I overcame it, and I want to say that things are better now. My mom calls my Mati and her son and uses he pronouns and masc words with me. My dad, I don’t expect much because his machismo just makes him unable to even be emotional with anyone. Either way, things are getting better.

I never really delved that deep into my coming out experiences, but here it is! I’m proud of what I’ve been through and overcoming it. Just know that things will always get better.

[jrmcwilliam]

The Voice of Night

No one really knew why he wanted to go into the forest all the time. He only went in at night so it was the strangest thing because normally, in this town, kids wouldn’t go out passed dark, at least not by themselves, because of the wildlife that came out after sundown.            “Liam, why do you want to go outside every night?” His mother would ask him. She knew that no matter what they said to him, he would still make his way outside anyways.            “It’s peaceful.” The only answer that Liam found worth speaking.            “But it’s not safe for you to be out there by yourself.” She’d say.            “I know that. But I’m old enough to walk to school by myself so why can’t I go into the forest by myself?” He asked. His mother took a second to think, biting her lip at the inability to come up with an answer good enough to make her point.            “Lets just let the kid make his choices, Mati. We owe him that much.” His father said in Liam’s defense.            “Henry, I know but…”            “No but’s. He is old enough to adventure. If he doesn’t get the chance to then he will resent us. Is that what you want?” His father responded.            “Okay, honey, get ready for bed now, please.” His mother said to him.

Liam made his way upstairs to the bathroom, looked at himself in the mirror, shook his head, and got toothpaste on his toothbrush. He stared at the toothbrush for a moment as if he second-guessed brushing his teeth. He remembered what happened the last time he didn’t so he put it in his mouth and started to brush his teeth in a circular motion as he was taught to. He finished up, wiped his hands, combed his bushy brown hair, and sauntered to his bedroom at the end of the hall.            His mother and father came into the room. His father checked the outlets and night lights. His mother tucked him into bed, leaving open the side closest to the window as she knew that he would be sneaking out to the woods as soon as they left him to be. She felt it unnecessary to keep tucking him all the way in when in a matter of minutes, it wouldn’t matter anymore. She was making it easier for him.            “Goodnight, my sweet angel. Have dreams that are so beautiful that you can’t help but stare.” His mother kissed him on the cheek.            “Goodnight, son.” His father said, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. He combed Liam’s hair away from his forehead and took a deep breath. “I know that every day isn’t easy. I know that life is sometimes made up of things that don’t make sense. I also know that you are one of the strongest people I know and I want you to know that I am here to talk to you about anything you need. I love you. Goodnight.”            “Goodnight, Dad.” Liam said back and then kissed his father on the cheek. His father nodded, smiled, took one last look at his boy, and met his wife in the hallway. He turned back around to be sure to leave the door open slightly as he knew that Liam didn’t do so well with the dark. Liam heard his parents kiss each other before heading back downstairs. His mum sniffed in that same way she did when she was crying. He waited until he heard their last steps on the stairwell and then out of bed he went.            Liam looked out over the yard outside his bedroom. He noticed that the moon was lighting up the trees passed the fence and decided that was enough light for him so without hesitation he opened his window as quietly as he could and headed down off the roof. His father had built him a ladder he could climb down so that he wouldn’t fall – again.            He took off for the fence as fast as he could; even though he knew that his parents knew about what he was doing, he still liked the feeling of a ninja-like freedom. He would escape the compound and into the wide world ahead of him. He would imagine himself as a superhero evading a bad guy, or a superhero heading into danger to try and save the world beyond. He loved it. It gave him a rush. Then suddenly, the same border of trees he’d always known and admired loomed above him and he stood, took a deep breath and a wide step forward into his peaceful place. Owls made hooting noises above him and mice squeaked below his feet. Crickets cricked in the distance and the subtle wind made the leaves on the trees shake.            He kicked rocks in front of him and pushed dirt to the side. He made a pathway for himself just in case he went too far, further than he’s been before, so he could find his way back. He knew his mother worried about him so he always made it so that he would return home unscathed.            He thought about how lonely he was. No friends in school that really understood him, nor ones that he understood himself. He had no mentors other than his parents. His neighbors were a bunch of drunks. The rest of his family had all but moved off to other places and hadn’t seen them since he was just a little boy. He felt alone. But when he was in the forest, none of those feelings ever got to him because he knew he wasn’t alone out there. He had the owls and the mice and the trees. The mountains in the distance told him that there were other people, places and things in the world and he knew that one day he would be a part of it all. But what he loved most of all, was his little gathering of trees that he had come to know.            “Tavish?” Liam called out to his owl friend. “Tavish, is that you?” Liam looked up to the branches in the trees just above him but the moonlight only cascaded the silhouettes of other trees. “Hmm. Maybe not.” He said to himself. He went about moving around the dirt until he was satisfied and made his way back to bed.

The next night his mother said to him, “Goodnight, my sweet angel. Dream sweetly and awaken to the feeling of happiness.” His mother kissed him on the forehead and tucked him in, being sure to leave open the side closest to the window.            “Goodnight, Mom. I love you too.” He replied curtly. She smiled at this as she placed her hand over her heart and made her way out of the room making sure to leave the door open just a little bit.            Liam waited for her footsteps to reach the bottom of the stairs and like clockwork, he was out of there. He stood in front of the trees a little skeptical this time because the wind was a little harder than last night. He was making sure it was safe to go in. But after the day he had, he was excited about this moment all day so in he went, following the same path he’d been making for himself for years.            “Liam…” A soft voice rang out. Liam looked all around him but stopped at a branch just above his head.            “Tavish?” He replied.            “Liam. It’s so nice to see you.” The owl said back to him.            “You too Tavish! I haven’t seen you in a long while!”            “How have you been keeping? Are you doing well in school? Making any friends?” The owl asked.            “I’m okay. I’m doing okay in school, I guess. Dad says I’m getting better.” He took a moment before answering the final question. “I haven’t made any friends. I don’t think anybody understands me.”            “What is there not to understand about such a sweet young man?”            “Well…” He tried to think of an answer. “I don’t know, Tavish. It’s just that I don’t really like anyone well enough.”            “Well I like you well enough. You have a friend in me.” The owl told him. The owl took a bow as if honored to be in his presence.            “I know, Tavish. Thank you.” Liam stretched out his arm to allow the owl to climb onto it. The owl took one step at a time and then the boy and the owl were walking down the path together.            “How are your mother and father? Don’t they worry about you being out here all by yourself?” The owl asked quietly.            “They are fine. Mom still cries a lot and Dad is always doing something in the garage. They still kiss each other at night though and sometimes I can even hear them dancing to music in the living room.”            “That’s really good.” The owl nodded.            “Yeah.” Liam replied with a sigh. “How’s the forest doing? Seen any wolves lately?”            “The forest is just fine. A storm is coming later this week though so you had best keep an eye out before you come wandering out here.” The owl waited for Liam to nod in understanding. “Haven’t seen a wolf in a long time. I think they know the storm is coming and have headed out to the mountains where there are caves.”            “That makes sense. Would a wolf be my friend like you are my friend, Tavish?” The boy asked the owl.            “I do not want to you find out. Just leave the wolves be. Sometimes its okay to respect each others boundaries by not moving into their space uninvited.”            “Okay.” Liam said to the owl but with a hint of disappointment. Liam trusts in animals more than he trusts in people so the owl makes sure he knows that not every animal is to be disturbed.            “Good. Now why don’t you run off to bed now, it’s time for this owl to catch some supper.”            “Goodnight, Tavish. Thank you for talking to me.”            “No, Liam. Thank you for talking to me.” With that, the owl flew high into the trees and disappeared into the shadows. The boy waved him off as he turned around to follow his path back home.

After closing the window to his bedroom, Liam kicked off his shoes and headed back into his bed slowly and quietly. He laid there with his eyes wide open staring out the window to the moon. He thought about why it was that time seemed to go by so slow. He wondered how long it would be until he was old enough to go out on his own and find out what was really beyond those trees.

           “I will not throw that stuff away, Henry!” He heard his mother yell from down the stairs, voices muffled from the distance.

           “Matilda, I understand why you are upset but I’m not throwing it away! I’m just moving it to another spot so that I don’t have to see it every five minutes and remember just how much I miss him! I’m tired of being sad and I know you are too!”

           Liam got out of bed and moved to the top of the stairs. Hugging the railing, he listened in. He could see in the living room a box of things, his father hugging his mother, and his mother weeping into his father’s shoulder.

           “It’s only been a few months since Tavish died but we have to start moving on especially for Liam. It’s hard enough that he’s lost his twin brother and it’d be even harder if he loses his mother too.” His father said softly.

           “I know, Henry. I know.”

           With that, Liam went back to bed, pulled the covers over his face, wiped the tears from his eyes, stared at the empty bed across from him, and fell asleep.

JR McWilliam

*-The image is not mine. I found it on google and it fit my story perfectly. Thank you to the artist.

[ghost1991cro]

My Deteremination

As a kid of 11 years of age, I had always been working with my dad in the field hearing so many stories from my father related to the beginnings of World War 2, the events during WW2, and the happenings after WW2 from 1945 to the 1950’s.  In my young brain in my head, there was a lot of wonderings why all of this has to happen.  When I ask my dad some specific questions about the missing Croatians from my village always the answer was “You are too young to understand this, my son.  Once you’re a little bit older you will know a lot of those answers.  Now I cannot tell you too much because you would not understand.”

On Wednesday, May 31st, 1950, my father and I had been working in a vineyard called “Padina”. Around 6:30pm, with still a couple of hours of daytime left, three policemen came, passing through someone else’s land (trespassing on someone’s land), and walked straight to my father asking, “Are you Comrad Petar Boban?” As soon as my father answered, “Yes, I am Petar Boban”, they pulled out tie-wire from their belt and tied up my father’s hands behind his back.  When I asked those 3 policemen where are they taking my father, the answer was “You will find out.”

That evening, a score of Croatians from our village were arrested and were taken to the station of Posušje.  From that day on, the men’s job fell on my shoulders as an 11 year old boy.  My mom was pregnant.  My oldest brother, Jerko, was in school in Zenica while my oldest sister, Jakica, was in school in Sarajevo.  My mom did go as many times as it was permitted by the regime to visit my father in jail.  He was in jail as a “enemy of the state” and was released on Saturday, July 3rd, 1953.  During that time of 3 years, through my teenager’s head, went so many things and why’s; questions that I didn’t have the answer to.  During that time, I was working in the field, plowing and hoeing with men who were 25 years of age and on.  Maybe those 3 years did help me to sharpen my brain to be determined in my thinking.  During that time of 3 years, as a teenager, in my village going to church, going to the field, talking to the people, neighbors and friends, I became a rebel.  When I say “a rebel”, I did not mean to say “a rebel” to fight with the rifles against someone.  When I say, “a rebel”, with these words I try to say that I was not a “yes sir” man.  If I did not like something that is going around me caused by the communist regime of Yugoslavia, then I speak up my mind.  I knew very well that all those acts I did intentionally, boycotting the regime and its representatives (in this case, the police), I was not conscious, as a teenager, of the consequences of my behavior.  So, when I heard from my mom inside the house with closed doors, telling me about the Croats, our friends, relatives and neighbors, disappeared during WW2 and that we do not know their fate whether they’re alive or dead or missing.  And that the regime was particularly against any pronunciation of the word “Croats” and so on.  Then when I go out in the street in the evening or during the day when I work with the elders in the field, I feel very equipped and superior of them to talk about Croatia, Croatians, WW2, missing of 23 Croatians from my village of Bobanova Draga, then I start to talk about it.

One man by the name of Ikan Boban (born in 1917) Mišin told me “Milan, I’m going to tell you something.  I was a soldier of the Croatian armed forces during WW2 and I know for a fact that Croatians armed forces with the civilians surrendered to the English army in Austria in May 1945. Then, the English army surrendered the Croatians to Tito’s army of Yugoslavia which slaughtered a few hundred thousand Croatians in Slovenia.” Then Ikan Boban (Mišin was his nickname) told me one song which is: Slovenia puna si borića i kostiju hrvastki mladića” which translates to “Slovenia, you are as full of trees as you are of Croatian soldiers bones.”  Then again during the dinner, Ikan (Mišin) told me one other song: “Mene moja naučila mati, pjevaj sine živjeli Hrvati” which translates to “My mother taught me to sing long life to Croats”.  That song, with my cousin and friend, Ante Grubisic, Lukin we started to sing through the village and through the region without thinking that this song might cause us problems.  When I say problems, I have to explain this that Yugoslavian communist regime did not allow to Croats to express their nationalistic feelings through any means whatsoever (cultural, folkloric, historical, singing, talking, etc.). There were some people who did approach us telling us that we shouldn’t sing that; it was forbidden and the police might stop us.  Ante and I, as teenagers, we didn’t think that a simple song would hurt someone’s feelings. We were naïve.

So, on Friday, June 29th, 1956, in my village of Bobanova Draga there was a celebration of St. Peter and Paul holiday.  As tradition dictates, after the mass which started at 11am, we went home for lunch and after lunch, around 2pm, we go to the main road which is about a few hundred yards away to meet with friends and neighbors at traditional croatian called Dernek (sort of Fair) to walk, talk and sing.  We celebrate St. Peter and Paul every year in our village on June 29th.  This particular day, my cousin Ante and I, we sang that song “Mene moja naučila mati, pjevaj sine živjeli Hrvati.”  Suddenly, here are three policemen came to us and stop us in the middle of the road.  One was named Đuro (a typical Serbian name); he was a commander of the station. The other one was Milan Šorman (also a Serb) while the third one was Hassan, a Muslim, from Bugojno.  The purpose of stopping us was that we couldn’t sing nationalistic songs because that is a provocation to the Brastvo i Jedinsvo (which means “Fraternity and Unity”).

Then I told those 3 policemen “I think that my song would not hurt anybody and I am just looking for someone who is going to forbid me to sing this song.”  As soon as I said this, one of the policemen slapped me.  As soon as he slapped me above my forehead, mostly on my hair, I grabbed Milan Šorman and threw him onto the ground by the side of the road.  As I was struggling with him, Jerko Boban (nickname: Kebić, 1919-2009) and Franjo Boban (nickname: Tuka) jumped to help us, telling the police, “Do you know through which village you are passing through?”  (This comment was meant to highlight the fact that many distinguished WW2 Croatian generals (such as General Ranko Rafael Boban) and other soldiers came from this village and the Yugoslavian communist regime knew this and feared them.)  They continued, “This is not 1945 that you can come with your guns pointed to the people, pulling them from bed during the night and executing them behind the walls wherever you find it!”

The next day, Saturday, June 29th, I was working with my father on the field around 10am here two policemen come.  One was Milan Šorman, the other was Hassan, from Bugojno, the Muslim.  They want to escort me to Sovići, a town 6km away, to the police station.  I told them “You will not escort me on this beautiful day in front of our village for 6 km that my neighbors see me going with you as a thief.  You go over there and I will be there.”  They took my word for it and left and I left too.  But, I didn’t leave to follow them.  I left to exile.

Izvor: Otporaš