avoidedentity

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[avoidedentity]

Listening to “Dark Blue” -Jack’s Mannequin

Dear No One,

Being LGBTQ+ isn’t just above love. It’s not just about loveisloveislove and all that. Yes, love is, like, really really important, and everyone, most definitely LGBTQ+ people, should be able to love whomever they feel most comfortable loving.

But it is so much fucking more than that and the cisgender people who have the privilege of only thinking about who they love and not their core identity around gender need to open their eyes and see.

Trans people, past, present, future, historically, and currently have been excluded on so many levels. “Pride is about love,” “you got same-sex marriage equality, what more do you need,” and many more comments similar harm the trans community.

Yes, I love my partner with everything in me and the right to love him is one I would vastly struggle without. But my right to exist, on the fundamental level, my right to stand up and say “I’m fucking agender and who I love has nothing to do with that,” is often not included in celebrations and talks my LGBTQ+ cisgender community often has.

The trans people, ESPECIALLY the trans people of color, our Black trans people, our Hispanic trans people, our American-Indian trans people- are excluded and it needs to be changed.

I’m tired of the more privileged LGBTQ+ members excluding those of us who struggle with not only who we love, but who we are at our core. And to all the fucking cisgender LGBTQ+ people who “support” trans people but say “Oh well some people just aren’t gonna change but I’m still gonna be friends with them regardless of the fact they continuously disrespect and attempt to disvalue the identities and feelings of my trans friends”: fuck you.

No One, if you’re cisgender, look at yourself. If your cisgender friends do this, look at them and talk to them. Please.

[avoidedentity]

Listening to “I Have Friends In Holy Spaces” -Panic! At The Disco

Dear Friends,

I know I talk about myself a lot. I know I talk about boys a lot. I know it gets on your nerves. I’m trying to be better, but I don’t know how, and it’s not like any of you actually talk to me anymore or tell me how you’re feeling.

You never bothered to ask why I’m so invested in these things. You had supportive families. Tough times, yeah, but supportive families nonetheless. You didn’t have to come out to your parents and feel rejection. You didn’t get mentally used and abused by your parents. You don’t need the validation from anywhere else. You have a dad who told you he was proud. You have a mom who actually hangs out with you and doesn’t make you wanna scream when you talk to her. You have s u p p o r t.

The idea that I could love myself, that I could give myself the validation, or that a boy (or girl or anyone) could love me, actually love me, upsets me, Friends. It upsets me in the way that it wasn’t supposed to be possible for me, and you’ll never understand that. You’ll never understand the thriving, never-ending joy I feel from it. And because of this joy, I want to talk about it all the time.

See, you’ve had your entire life to talk about the people in your life that love you and validate you and treat you right. I haven’t had that. I haven’t even had 1/18 of that time, so it’s consistently new to me. The idea that someone could love me day after day is wonder-filled.

So yeah, I talk about those things a lot. It’s how I cope with thinking I don’t deserve them.

But you wouldn’t know that- you don’t talk to me, you don’t ask if I’m okay, and when we hang out you focus on each other instead of us as a whole group. You label me boy-obsessed and attention-seeking and call it a day. Sometimes I wonder if you really know me.

Five years is a long time, no doubt. It should have been long enough for you to even bother trying to learn. But you didn’t. And for some reason, I can’t help but feel that’s on me.

[avoidedentity]

Listening to "Chasing Cars" -Snow Patrol

Dear No One,

Romance is not meant for the weak-hearted, nor is it mean for victims/survivors of circumstance. Fate decided not to discriminate when it placed the opportunity within my reach.

The stars heard our confessions and blessed us with a shining sky. It was three in the morning and he and I found something we'd pretended we lost for two years.

I'm sorry there was ever an in-between. I'm sorry there was a time period where I couldn't say I love you. I'm sorry it took me so long to catch up.

In the beginning, I wasn't supposed to fall in love and neither was he, but it happened, and its so goddamn beautiful. He sees me for the person I am and not for the person I was. He sees me halo and devil horns and calls me cute. He sees me.

He and I call ourselves gods; our power scares the hell out of us.

I'd like to say something to you, Skateboard Boy. I love you. I love you the way Andrea loved Bel-imperia and the way Bel-imperia later loved Horatio. I love you more than Lemony loves Beatrice. I really fucking love you. Like Popeye and Olive. Mahal kita. Te amo. Jeg elsker deg. I love you in the way that I know there's a chance soulmates don't exist but I choose you as my soulmate anyway. Je t'aime. I love you so much I re-wrote this six times and I am still not satisfied with how it reads or looks.

I should tell you I'm not good at saying it. I'm good at standing on a bed with a Polaroid to capture your grin post-sex. I'm good at holding your hand. I'm good at ignoring my coffee for you. I'm good at all the little ways I can tell you without telling you.

I am lucky to be able to love you. Romance may have not been meant for me, but we can be meant for each other regardless.

[avoidedentity]

Listening to “Trying My Best”-Anson Seabra

Dear No One,

I don’t think Father’s Day is fair. I don’t think Mother’s Day is fair either, but I’ll talk about that another time.

For example, some people don’t have dads, or some people have bad dads, or some people have dads that make themselves look good in public. And then everyone criticized the kids of those dads for not celebrating.

Father’s Day (or Mother’s Day) also isn’t fair because they choose to have us, and then the expect we celebrate them. I know the details of how I was created. They didn’t want me, so why celebrate?

And on top of that, my dad is a dick. He missed pretty much everything from August 2006ish (around the time I was 5) to August 2019. Then I came out to him as a trans guy, he seemed supportive until I got back home, and his dickness has shined brightly since. I mean, I’m afraid to come out to him again because I’m afraid to bring it up around him!

He thinks that showing love is spending money. It’s not. Showing love is calling your kid by their name and correct pronouns and talking to them to understand instead of continuously misgendering and deadnaming them and telling everyone behind their back that if they change their last name they’ll be cut out of the will.

Point is, Father’s Day isn’t fair. Some people have great dads. Great for them. But some don’t, and I’m tired of the guilt that comes with being forced to celebrate someone who’s never even told me that he is proud of me. It’s bullshit.

[avoidedentity]

Listening to: “Oh My God” -Alec Benjamin

Dear No One, (TW: Suicide/Self-harm)

My cousin and best friend committed suicide when I was 14. I’m going to be 19 soon. Today, for the first time ever, I tried to visit his grave by myself. In the dark. In the rain. ...I could not find his headstone, and so I got sad for a moment, and thought he would be disappointed in me, and then I burst out laughing, because he would have thought that it’s hilarious that I couldn’t find his name on a rock.

On the way back to my house, I had a realization. I only realized it because it felt wrong and like I didn’t deserve it, even though it’s not wrong and I do deserve it. Especially after everything.

I realized I’m happy. Not the fleeting five-hour goof from getting kissed for the first time or the glow of passing or the kind of happy that you feel when you have some minor good thing happen.

I’m h a p p y.

I’m at peace. Like, if I were to die right now, I wouldn’t be a vengeful spirit. Like, this has been the first week in SO LONG that I haven’t wanted to self-harm and I’m so proud of myself.

I’m actually fucking happy.

This isn’t where I thought I’d feel my first moment of happiness post-realizing I’m a human being with unfortunate responsibilities, but I don’t think I would have had it any other way now.

I’m happy, No One. Isn’t that enough to make you wanna cry?