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Just a vent piece, Heads up this is about family emotional trama, and Trans feelings? something along that.

The entire time she lived she worked to bundle up, shove and ignore him. The bit of her she didn’t know even existed behind all the walls of self-loathing and layers of despising himself. He couldn’t see that he even existed. So, she kept shoving and compressing so much down where I didn’t come bubbling up out her mouth in a pile of word vomit that was her thoughts. She didn’t know, who she was, why she needs to be a person. All she knew is that she had to follow the road she set on before she new what she was. A husk of emotionless, soulless, shallow mud that only knew how to draw. What was the point in anything else if, that, was the only thing she was good at? Other than be objectified in her own mind, that is. The unintentionally? cruel sexism from their mother scaring them in to asking as someone they, thought they could trick themselves int to believing they were. The world around them swimming, their only chance at the life they thoughted they wanted, thrown away by their anxiety. The stone in their gut digging deeper and deeper with every recognized cruelty of their family. After taking the first step of everything they needed to find themselves, only to be rebutled and told at each turn that ‘your thoughts don’t matter’ or ‘you don’t think that you’re just being dumb’ really words to the same affect.