and i’m glad i did :)
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@818zine
and i’m glad i did :)
The Concept of my Being; Thoughts on Identity
How queerness saved my life.
"Being queer saved my life. Often we see queerness as deprivation. But when I look at my life, I saw that queerness demanded an alternative innovation from me. I had to make alternative routes; it made me curious; it made me ask, 'Is this enough for me?" - Ocean Vuong
I made this account with the intention of speaking my own thoughts and writing about my own experiences as if it were my own diary, so here goes nothing.
I've always had quite the experience regarding my own sense of self and identity. I'd always present femininely, wear bright pink clothes, and have long hair. My hair was always long. I had to be the sweet and innocent princess, delicate to hold and nature.
That was until I reached a phase of my life known as puberty; my body was changing rapidly, fast, out of control. I was gaining weight, and my body, stature, and hips all began to balloon out, shedding my uterine lining to enter a phase of "womanhood."
This concept of development and becoming for my white peers felt exciting and incredibly joyous, but as a brown or 'Morena' Filipina, in a predominantly white school, unfortunately I thought otherwise. While these girls were getting excited to see if they had body hair, mine had already grown out and spread underneath my arms and on my legs. Instead of being excited, I felt like a beast amongst them. I'd get mocked by my classmates for the way I looked, my breast and cup size, and bodily hair, how different and big I'd gotten. Hitting puberty faster than the others only meant I had to wait and wait until they could catch up. Naturally, I rejected pink; adorning myself in black mourning the child I once was. I got upset at what faced me in the mirror. My confidence plummeted along with any ounce of self-esteem left inside of my beast-like body.
Once the pandemic hit, I had time to question everything. Why the adobo I ate at the lunch table, "looked like poop" according to the kids who sat next to me. Why my identity was revolved around being the "submissive, model-minority, straight-A, Asian girl?" Why my womanhood and femininity reduced down to my ability to have child or be a "good wife"? This also gave me time to look online to learn more about the people I was around, who started to come out to me as queer. It felt nice to be, at the time, a "straight ally" and support them. I began to learn about the failings the systemic abuses inflicted on people of color, including myself and my family, and how queerness can save other people's lives, such as my friends and later my own.
Middle school was the time when most people had already caught up in changing. Being the new girl, it was easier to cope up. Unfortunately, I was also incredibly short, and incredibly "fugly." I still had to cope with being the ugly and unattractive girl. I was still being bullied by so-called "friends" behind my back. As a result, I had to cope. Find any solution. Anything. I began to wear makeup for the first time, perfecting my artistry and craft to make myself look more appealing. I began to wear pink again and conform to the standard of feminine I felt necessary to hold on to. I took out all of the rage or pain I felt, blooming it into the flowers of the style I began to curate for myself; all while my mental health sunk deep down in the ocean of my mind.
Middle school was also one of the first times I began to experience love. I never wanted it to happen or occur; however, I couldn't help but let those emotions creep up on me. I've had crushes on the basketball star, and the baseball boy, but I also had a plethora of secret crushes on women. I didn't know how to feel about it at all, but liking a girl interested in another person was incredibly bittersweet. The feelings of anxiety and bliss but love and passion juxtaposing themselves as I felt love for another person. I had no idea where to put any of these feelings, so I concealed them and boxed it in the back of my mind. These emotions would come out through the media I watched. From crying to Paris is Burning, feeling kilig while watching Heartstopper, delving into the fantastical world of Steven Universe, the beauty of Euphoria, and the realizations I had after watching But I'm a Cheerleader, I'd begin to slowly embrace this newfound identity that felt incredibly freeing and joyous, thanks to the work of many who were able to fight for my own right of existence and validity.
Now in Highschool, I'd finally find people who cared for me. I'd receive help for my life-long battle with depression and anxiety. I also was able to come out (only to my close friends) as queer.
"Hey, I'm queer. See me." - Supriya Ganesh
While the initial label first stood as bisexual, with time my thoughts shifted to just queer. I'd also identify more with (she/they) pronouns, expressing myself in the way I believed felt best. While I may present more feminine-like, I'm truly comfortable being addressed as practically anything. In Tagalog, we have no pronouns. Just siya, or them. This language leads of a lot of Filipino people occasionally mixing up pronouns, calling she a he, or him a her, but we do always try our best to use the correct terminologies.
So yes, I will continue to take up space despite being 5'0. I will continue to study hard with such fervent passion to be a brown woman in STEM. I will continue to fight for my dreams and my passions, and dance with the beauty of my stardust being. I will shave only when I want to, I will dye my hair bright pink, and dress the way I please to be. I will be loud, outspoken, and unforgiving. I will give credit where credit is due, especially to people of color, women, and queer, individuals whose contributions get stolen or rarely accredited for. I will fuck the fig-tree analogy and do as I want in this life.
With these identities, being queer and a proud Morena Filipino, I wear them with not just pride, but also as a massive thank you to the people who fought for my entire right to exist. From Lapu-Lapu, to Gabriela Silang, Audre Lord, and Marsha P. Johnson, among many others, I thank them. Most importantly, these identities serve the greatest "fuck you" to all of the systems that try to dimmish and bring down people from the spaces they deserve to be in. I wear it and embrace it with pride, love, and resistance.
Queerness saved my life through learning to love myself and the stardust that composes who I am.
THE FINAL STRETCH OF SCHOOL!
had a test today tell me why my ex bf and my ex friend BOTH were in my class… 💔 anyways life goes on, peace n luv. 🪷
MAYBE I AM MY OWN BEST COMPANY: THOUGHTS FROM THE ODD ONE OUT
picture this: you’re an only child, two parents who aren’t really around for any of the family events or milestones. you’re too young for your older cousins who all are in grad school, or have children, or are actively working. none of them have time for you. none of your family really would care about any of your input or aspirations. you’re too old for the young kids who are still stuck in elementary. you’re the odd one out. you can’t help but feel lonely, and maybe even disconnected at times. you’ve been exposed to so many “adult tasks” at only 14. taking care of your mother, attempting to interpret legal documents, and seeing systems fail time and time again right as the healthcare system unfortunately fails your family. time has flown to where you’re oddly enough almost an adult but not really a teenager. the ripe age of 17, veering closer and closer to adulthood every second.
it’s hard to describe being in the middle of everything, so much and yet so little. many people automatically assume that just because i’m an only child, i’m spoiled. i’m not. i still get yelled at, and i still get my good deal of punishment. i grew up living with my cousins, and within them, i’m the youngest. i’m the baby of the family; hensewhy i can relate to youngest siblings. i’m also the “middle” person in age within my cousins, which is why i can relate to them too. funnily enough, i’m lucky if my giant family even remembers my name or what i even want to pursue. 17 is just the right age to question everything— watch yourself being compared and comparing yourself to other people, even thinking if i can ever be adequate enough for anyone’s expectations. am i even trying hard enough?
being shaped by a family who all work in medicine, and are predominantly nurses, wanting to follow a field that more male dominated (engineering) is something that came as a shock by many of my family members. following my own inner voice is arguably one of my greatest strengths, but my chronic people-pleasing behaviors is my major flaw. i can’t stand who im becoming, and yet its everything ive always wanted to be. out of everyone within my own vicinity, why am i the one who is destined to stick out and be the sore thumb?
i try to find peace in this odd sense of loneliness, the kind of disconnect i feel in the fact that i can be my own company; im the only person i truly have. while yes, it is isolating sitting at family functions on the side, awkwardly smiling through the comments about my appearance, weight, or dreams, as i fail to relate to any of my relatives about any aspect of my life, telling stories awkwardly and being brash, honest, and blunt every second i speak. although im used to being alone, nothing has been more lonely than outgrowing but simultaneously not growing fast enough. maybe i should’ve grown faster.
HI WELCOME TO 818ZINE!
my name is precious and i made this account recently just for fun!
expect to see a variety of things on this random internet blog! such as:
• random ramblings from my phone
• photos and reblogs of my latest obsessions and moodboards of things
• music & film references and discussions
• mentions of my work/studying because i am hard at work out here :’)
and more in these random ramblings from a person on the internet treating this like a diary <3
818ZINE
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