#yeah ive kind of had that kind of miscommunication over the last few weeks alone and it just tuckered me out

[mueritos]

a big brain dump about autism, life, being indigenous, and whatever else is going on

so the past few months I made it a personal journey to understand my autism more (and maybe a possible ptsd diagnosis but whatever whatever whatever). and that's what i'm calling it--the autism--because no other thing makes sense for me, and while i'm parsing through childhood memories and experiences, it's definitely...a bittersweet conclusion? bitter because in a lot of ways, i dont relate to the stereotypical autistic experience because every autistic person who has clocked me was usually a White Queer. It's probably why it's taken so long to get to this point of concluding Autism is what it is. I grew up in an immigrant family as a girl, and for that reason I was expected to not be disabled and to be a completely normal and high achieving Mexican catholic girl who went to college and became a doctor or whatever. Now i'm a fag of a man doing none of those things haha.

My older brother was supposed to be assessed for ASD in his youth, and like most immigrant dads, mine decided that nothing was wrong with him and the rest is history. Except my older brother is a man riddled with childhood trauma, shame, and so much autism. Absolutely uncharted rates of autism, and while he gets some sort of pity from my parents for him ("it's all out fault" "he never got the help he needed" "cut him some slack he doesnt understand"), I can never let my own parents know about how much I struggle. Hell, I can barely show it to my own friends because even they don't understand the extent of my autistic struggles. it's actually caused continuous miscommunications, people mad at me, me mad at myself, meltdowns, shutdowns, and a lot of crying. And shame. (a peer recently even demeaned my habit of keeping to myself, despite the fact that I had actually been trying to put myself out there more)

so i'm at a point in my life where I've accepted that I can only take responsibility over how I communicate, and I take ownership over that. Accepting this responsibility allows me to keep myself safe, as I've essentially lived over 2 decades of my life feeling like I was responsible for not just my communication, but everyone else's, including all of the judgements, missed cues, failures, miscommunications, and whatever else came from it. It's definitely double empathy. Last time I truly took on everyone's communication, it nearly killed me (cue over a year of suicidality). But, in a lot of ways it's very freeing. I'm sort of detaching myself from this neurotypical/White need to socially interact with others on their terms. In other ways, it's restricting. I uh. Don't really talk to a lot of people nowadays, and there used to be days where I wouldn't say a single word out loud. But because I don't talk to as many people, I'm able to put energy into the quality of my connections and not just the quantity. Which unfortunately a lot of people take personally. They dont like you admitting that you only see them as an acquittance, or as a classmate, or something like a friend but not quite there. I find comfort knowing how people feel about me, even if its that they actually dont feel close to me. Great! Now I know! Knowing makes me feel safe! But I'm finding that people actually really fucking hate when you admit that to them, the how you actually slot them in ur brain in terms of social levels. I can understand why, but I also don't get it.

Another thing that's helped is I've changed how I do eye contact. I used to make eye contact with professors or classmates while I spoke up in class because I thought that was important. Now I've found I can actually focus more on what I'm trying to say when I don't make eye contact. My god how freeing that has been. I don't have the same anxiety as I used to before, nor do I experience all of the involuntary blushing as I did for many years of my life. It didn't matter how confident or how prepared I felt, I would just blush furiously and I fucking hate it. Now my blushing is almost nonexistent, and I say what I mean with the flat ass tone that I love speaking in because it makes me feel safe. Sure, I miss the real-time non-verbal reactions to my words in class, but it's an okay trade-off for feeling more safe in myself and more confident in the classroom.

another thing is my internship. I work with majority neurodivergent students, and many of my clients have autism, adhd, or both, and are sometimes BIPOC, trans, or children of immigrants. Man, I've been having a blast. Sure, I'm learning how to be a therapist and best practices, but screw everyone in my life who has called me "cold" "emotionless" or "heartless". I have connected with so many people on such a human level, and I have sat there and helped them hold their pain in that tiny gay office for 45 minutes every week, and even though it's only 45 minutes, i'm showing them that they're allowed to ask for help holding that pain. I have had challenging sessions, difficult conversations, and times where I wasn't sure I would know what to say. But at it's core, I know that I'm capable of connecting with the person in front of me because my autism brain is automatically in tune with the person in front of me. It is so wonderful, and overwhelming, and so confusing all at once. When people start crying in front of me, I feel tears well up in my eyes, even if I'm not actually sad with them. It shows me that I'm capable of this empathy that so many people over my life have questioned, which they questioned all because I processed things slowly, or made quick decisions, or because I was honest about how I felt.

on to being mixed indigenous. Phew. I've been trying to build more connections with other Native folk, and I have a couple who I can thankfully call friends and who have never disrespected my detribalized experience. but recently I was interviewed a few times for a fellow indigenous researcher's dissertation, and I did not expect to be chosen on account that I am detribalized. But it had been a lovely experience and I finished my final interview today. It really left me with a lot of emotions that are hard to put into words. Mourning would be one of them, as I likely won't ever know what my tribal affiliation is. Never knowing who my people were, what language they spoke, the land they lived on...I can't describe just how much it destroys me. It feels like literal death, because that's what it is. A disgusting colonial death. And it's why I abhor that of all my identities, being autistic and being mixed indigenous has been met with the most vitriol online. like i guess people can only handle the trans fag mexican dude when hes not autistic and mixed indigenous, because now I am far too ambigious for anyone else's good. though i do know better than to listen to what random people online have to say about me and my path toward reconnection/neurodivergency.

beside's that, i'm trying to find neurodivergent spaces that feel safe, and I'm trying to find ways to keep myself safe. stimming, carrying stuffed animals around, using fidget toys, engaging in my interests, listening to the same songs, eating the same foods. I've had coffee with bagel and chive+onion cream cheese for over a year now. I've listening to almost only Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains for nearly a year now. I rewatch the same youtube videos over and over again. I wear the same few outfits. I wear the same shoes everyday. I walk the same way to and from campus everyday. I try to be in nature as much as I can, and really see it. I imagine nature where it isn't, and I get emotional thinking about the life that used to be on it. I wish so badly that I was a cat, a horse, a bunny, a deer, all so I could experience life through their eyes. i'm putting trust into people, into the universe, and into myself. safety is hard to come by, but im doing my best to accept the risks of life, trying to be flexible, and learn how to sustain myself for the good of the world. I deserve to be here too.

that's about it. besides that, i'm moving to philly once i'm done with grad school ^-^

[fzhrrr]

Wedding stories

Ive been wanting to write about my wedding since, like 3 months ago. Somehow it got postponed every single day coz there’s always things to do. Life after marriage sometimes mean splitting yourself in 3 different directions. Your off days arent just yours anymore. That one off day per week that i got also belongs to myself, my husband, my family, his family, my dirty laundry, my books, my skin and i guess you can pretty much guess where along that list does my blog goes down.

Anyway, wedding stories. Disclaimer, rather than a dreamy- fantasize version of romantic fairy tale, my wedding is far far away from that.

Just last week, we had our sanding ceremony on A’s side. I was surprised that it was probably my favourite (most bearable) out of all three receptions. 

I think the reason being is that we learned a lot of no-no’s from the previous majlis. This time around we decided to wear a traditional ensemble, something loose, not too heavy and just comfortable to be in on a hot day. And i especially love how the pictures turned out. Honestly a teeny tiny piece of super malayness in me kinda dreamed of having this picture. Two pengantin on a simple pelamin, in a songket outfit, headpiece and all. Its the kind of picture you’d hang on your wall and hope to one day proudly show your grandkids. (and they’d probably laugh on how out of fashion we were)

But yeah, it was nice. In Muar I did my own make up, and was so happy with how it turned out. We blew 800 ringgit on make up alone during the akad and majlis in cheras and i was so cranky because it was so horrible. The one during akad wasnt so bad (it was how people deemed make up pengantin should be, but my eyes were heavy and i look jahat in all the pics), but the night time do was just, unbelievable. I was in such a bad mood the only reason i got out of the house was because it was too late, and we cant keep the guests waiting. 

I paid titi athirah, an old schoolmate to do my makeup and she so claimed it was at a discounted price. Didnt want to be so fussy coz apparently 800 is “cheap” for two ceremonies. I said i wanted just a basic look with deep red lips, she then insist on putting lighter foundation to make me look lighter coz its night time, then she had the audacity to put cheap glittters on my eyes and these tacky red gloss on my lips.

Pictured- annoyed me knowing she messed up, and knowing we ran out of time to fix things. Thick brows, tacky lips, orange skin,I look like a russian pornstar- and not the expensive kind.

I spend the whole evening feeling so ugly and embarassed. Yes, thats the exact words. In every picture my face was either grey from the wrong foundation shade or just sour, because i knew i look bad. I dont feel like myself, i was a horrible bride and A had to calm me down through out. I confronted this to titi, and she said to make it up, why dont she do one more service for free. That offer is just pure garbage coz dude, the damage is done and there’s no undo button to reset your wedding day. It is what it is.

I was so uncomfortable that i wasnt fully able to appreciate those who came to my wedding. I was reluctant to say hi, i dont wanna meet people, i just wanted it to end quickly. The crankiness outweighed my happiness of actually seeing friends and family who came to celebrate with us. 

So this was one of the biggest lessons and tips to all brides: on your wedding day you only have one job- to be pretty and pleasant. And the only way for that to happen you need to be comfortable. 

In Muar, there was some miscommunications which in the end lead me to doing my own make up. Oh people were just hogging around me- your eyes are so plain, your lipstick is too pale, your foundation is too dark, your base arent thick enough we can see your pores and human skin imperfections! The comments were so crude up to a point where i stood up for myself and said, can everyone just let me do my make up they way i want it. Because i feel like people can be so disrespectful when they want you to conform to their standard of beauty, without them realising it (cause hey, its only right for them to criticize and diminish the bride self worth on her wedding day)

I aint gonna be homeless-looking-russian pornstar 2.0.

And im glad i stood up for myself.

True, my make up wasnt perfect. Brows were crooked, there were shiny patch of oily skin all over my face. But A said i look nice and comfortable (like my usual make up do), and that was all that mattered. I was happy and glowing and excited to be bride of the day. And it obviously made me happier coz my man knows what i like best for me.

The kampung majlis was lively. Kompang and berarak and that whole shenanigan. Food was good and i ate like theres no tomorrow. The only problem was we didnt know how to pengantin, so after the formal meal we sort of just sat inside and mind our own business. We didnt invite our friends, and we knew <1% of the guests. A has always been the quiet guy and i was definitely not gonna muster up all my strength and bravado to go table to table and greet people. Took a few pictures with my family, pretended to drink water a few times and we went for an outdoor photoshoot with my brother. We really didnt know what to do.

The sun was scorching hot and we just wanted an out from the awkwardness of facing humans. You are the main star of a show people half heartedly come to see on your post postcall day. If there’s one principal i live by, its that you are an adult who can make your own good and bad decisions. You dont have to stay in awkward moments, you are allowed to make selfish choices. 

And we chose an outdoor photoshoot at 3pm. Here’s us, barely able to open our eyes, in a picture where there’s more semak than sweetness. (but at least we got out of the awkward pengantin situation)

Kudos to idi, because this time we didnt have to pay the photgrapher thousands of ringgit for a few good shots.

I feel like this post is getting too long, and i ran out of energy to continue typing. Point is, pae’s married now. Wedding both sides are done so if the stress can go away and let my period cycle, skin condition and blood pressure return to normal that would be nice.

Do take note that being married is magical. And a life filled with love is unimaginably more beautiful than anything you can imagine. My rant is about the wedding, the wifing part i do enjoy bery bery much.

Here’s some random wedding shots for keepsake. enjoy:)