Invisible (the Queer INFJ)

Frequent heart to hearts for those of us who feel like no one else knows what's really going on inside us. Just two intersections that I identify with that makes it hard to get through life. Now that we've found each other, just stay alive with me.

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Coming Out: Mom

Sure she’s not excited, but she didn’t scream at you. She didn't call you worthless. She didn't kick you out of the house. She may not come to your wedding if you don’t marry a straight, cis-man, but she told you she loved you. She hugged you. She wants you to feel loved. She wants to fight for you as her daughter. She doesn’t want to be any less of a mom to you.

Walking to her room was the hardest part. The rest flashed by like lightening. And now it’s over. So close to the end of the year. And I get to start 2017 out and open. I am so. fucking. excited.

I get to be unapologetically myself. I can love who I want to love, out in the open. I’m not gonna hide. If someone says goodbye to me because I fell in love with someone, it’s worth it to me. My immediate family loves me, cherishes me, will protect me. I have it so good in so many ways. Maybe not everyone is thrilled, maybe they don’t all understand, maybe they never want to change their minds, but they love me like others won’t. And some are cheering me on. 

I feel so fucking loved. I’m glad the biggest one is over. I feel so fucking free. 

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

She

It’s Christmas time so I’ve been surrounded by people. But I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about the biggest thing that’s been on my mind: her.

I’ve been telling people for months that after Christmas I should be okay, I’ll be ready to start dating again. And I’ve gotten different dating apps to try, etc. but now I just don’t care. And I don’t want to look for anyone. Not a girl. Not a guy. Because I just want her.

I’ve had a couple dreams where we’ve kissed. And there’s nothing like it in the whole fucking world. She’s the one I want to hold. She’s the one I want to take in my arms and just love. And she’s the person I would say something to first about things that are on my mind, but I can’t tell her about this one. Cause it’s about her. She can never know. What the hell would she think of me? I’m afraid of being a freak to her. Like I can’t hold a female friendship and keep it platonic. But that’s not my problem. I have other female friendships who I’d NEVER consider dating. But she is my type. Her personality is my type. Her values are my type. She may be more feminine than what I thought my type would be when I first came out to myself, but I just find her so beautiful, so attractive, so perfect. 

What the fuck am I going to do? I don’t know who I can talk to yet about this. That’s why I’m writing it here, because I haven't talked to anyone about it yet. I want to tell my sister (we’ll call her Stella) but she hasn’t met her. I want to tell my other friend, but I’m afraid she’s too busy. I need to just talk to someone. I need to say something or I might explode. I just keep wishing she’ll wake up and decide that today is a good day to come out. So many things about her say “queer!” to me, but I’m one of her closest friends and she has told me she’s not. Is it true? Or is she in denial? Fuck, I want her to be in denial. I can’t help wanting her. I’ve said before that I’m not in love. I’m not. But it’s more than just a harmless crush. The emotional part of our friendship is making things hard for me. It’s hard to tell her that I love her and try not to mean it in a more-than-friends way. I want her to be happy, and if she likes men, then that’s what she should have, right? But I can’t help feeling a little selfish, wanting her to myself. All to myself. To love and to hold and to kiss and all of that. 

Fuck me. (I wish)

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

She.

I’ll call her that because I won’t say her name. But I’ll picture her face with every word I type so that every word I type is complete and utter truth.

I wasn’t out to myself when we met. And when I was, she didn’t fit the “type” I thought I had. Masculine women. No, being bi/pan for me, I’ve found, is about being able to fall for anyone. But emotions come first. The emotional attachment.

I’m so scared to picture, to imagine, kissing her. I feel like I shouldn’t. I feel like she’d be out there, watching my thoughts. I know she wouldn’t be mad. Just confused. How could I let anything get in the way of this friendship. I’ve never had a best friend who wasn’t my significant other. She wouldn’t call me her best friend, but I want to call her mine. But now I know, the more I want her to be my best friend, the more I want to love her. The more I feel my heart torn.

I tell myself she doesn’t fit anyway. I want to be a mother, I want to invest in children ten years down the road. She doesn’t want any. And she’s younger. Sure, that shouldn’t be a problem, right? But I’m leaving campus soon and she’s staying for God knows how long. 

When she came to church with me, she wore flannel and joked about how my lesbian pastor--who knows that I’m bi/pan--probably thought we were together. And I wanted her to think that. I wanted everyone around to think that. I would be proud of that. 

She’s not afraid of physical touch, and I’ve always liked friends who wouldn’t shy away from a hug or platonic cuddles. I see the way she reaches out her hand to other close friends, the way she does to me. But when I feel her touch I have to focus on the fact that she sees it as platonic. But it’s warm, and soft, and is it just me or is there a surge going from her fingers to my skin through the sweater that I’m wearing? 

In the queer community, I’ve heard the trope of falling for the straight girl. And I just pushed it away because I just “knew” that I wouldn’t be that foolish. I’m not in love. But I do love. I can’t help it. And who can I tell? Only the internet, I guess. Anonymously. 

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Princess of China

I can’t stop. And I have things that I could do but I don’t want to. So it just keeps going and sometimes I’m looking at nothing and sometimes I’m looking at you. And it wasn’t until a couple times through that I realized that this song is about you and I. Of course I’ve heard a million sad, depressing songs that I could say fit you and I, people who are broken and apart, but wow. If one fits like a T, it’s this one. Do you think it fits well? I’d like to know.

I was realizing I was queer when I was with you, but it’s only been in being apart that I’ve fully stepped into myself and my sexuality. And I know that that’s a good thing. But you still “stole my star.” So much hope that I was trying not to build up in you, I had it in me anyway. I knew we weren’t perfect, but I couldn’t imagine anyone knowing me better than you did. Even when I see pictures of you, I don’t see a stranger or that cliche “somebody that I used to know.” I see the other half of myself that has been ripped from me. Even if I was the one who ripped you off finally in the end. 

The one thing I will never understand is why you didn’t fight. Why didn’t you fight for me? Why couldn’t you love me enough? Being me--full on INFJ--I only realize now and then how much I still have internalized you and all I that I feel about you, both positive and negative (how is it that I love you despite the hurt more than feel angry towards you?), even though it’s been so long. I’ve never been hung up for so long. Will it take a year or more?

One of the reasons why I’m thinking about this now--besides the song, which I’m still listening to, on repeat--is because I just got a friend request on Facebook from a girl I used to talk to. She was the first one who put a warm fire in my stomach, even if it was small and brief. Why does she want to be my friend now? Even through reaching out, I am reminded of how many have let me go--you more than anyone. I don’t understand how I wasn't enough for you, why I didn’t matter enough to you, and if I will ever be that for someone.

Sometimes I want to keep you in my heart as the only man I ever loved. Not that I want to write off men all together and only pursue people on the feminine spectrum. But sometimes I feel like I’d be off better with a woman, or at least not a cis-man. And you hold such an intense place in my heart, I don’t want that touched, even though it’s gone and in the past. Sometimes I want you to be the only man I ever truly fell in love with. The only man I ever slept with. The only man I actually wanted to go the distance with. The only man that has ever tried to truly know and be known by me. 

Thank you for not being a shitty person. I still love who you are, even if we won’t be able to make each other happy anymore. I can’t imagine right now who is going to make you happy in the end. Will I be the one who got away? For me you are the one who fell away, to something greater than yourself. I will never understand all the pain and suffering you have experienced in your life. I always tried to understand, to empathize, but I can’t. Maybe that’s why you are such a great ally, for a white, cis-man. Ha. I hope that you know that you make this world a better place. I hope you know that you have made me a better person. We could’ve built a castle, I could’ve worn a ring... Sometimes I really wish that we had. In an alternate universe, would we have gone on and on together? I’d like to think so. 

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Reflections of 11/9/16

If you’re reading this, you are probably queer, an INFJ, or both. And embodying one or both those characteristics, I think it’s safe to say that you are as outraged as I am. I’ve already done my political discourse with my friends and family today in person and on social media. This is just my safe place for the raw emotions.

So let’s curl up and cry together.

My womanhood, my femininity feels violated. I feel like I have been told that I don’t matter. I feel slapped in the face. I want to crawl under my covers to the foot my bed and stay there for hours. And instead I’m supposed to be an adult, go to my classes on campus, visit my therapist, go to work, eat food. I love food but I’ve lost my appetite today. That’s scary. 

My ex, who rarely posts on Facebook was all over it yesterday and today. For all his faults, I couldn’t have been more proud in a sea of Facebook friends in which it seems that every progressive person is female. Male-bodied/Male-idenfied folks out there, this is not a slight towards you generally, only to my particular 300-some FB friend circle. Maybe I just need to widen my circle. But when I’m only seeing about five or consistent male voices stand up for women, POC, and sexual minorities, that’s too few. I liked the shit out of my ex’s posts. He’s cool with that. He’s cool like that. He paid me the favor too.

I’m surprised that I haven’t wept yet. But I feel very much in a state of denial. My natural instinct is to cling to hope. And yet I feel like the rug has been pulled out from underneath me. I’m in mid-fall, up in the air, the shock in my eyes but my head has not yet hit the wood floor. I’m scared to know what it’ll feel like. I may have to stay in bed all day afterwards.

Today I wore the most anti-Trump thing in my wardrobe. A cozy flannel--that’s to attract the ladies--with my university’s LGBTRC shirt. It’s got a lovely rainbow on it and I was so proud to walk around campus with it. This devastation makes me want to come out even more. To stand up more. Fight back. Do anything that I can.

I’m upset that not having come out to my mom is the one thing keeping me from posting openly queer things on social media. I told my (openly gay) dad today that I feel like I have a gag over my mouth. And I want it gone. I’m thinking by Christmas. So I’ve got about a month and a half. That’s scary. That’s scary as shit. But I want to do it. I want to have that dialogue with it, scared as I might be, but I really just want to be free. And then be vulnerable.

I don’t know what’s going to happen. You don’t know what’s going to happen. (Unless you’re reading this 4+ years from now and can tell me what the Trump presidency looked like). I’m a little afraid that being a queer woman is going to make me a target for hate. I have never received open hate yet. I’m scared of what that might look like. I’m scared that I won’t be strong enough. I want to keep standing, but what if I am struck down?

I want--and plan to--stand up for change. But right now I just want to mourn. I need to mourn the loss that Hillary’s leadership would have done for our country. All the wonderful steps Obama has been taking, making our country a more accepting place. I need to mourn for the fact that this chance to smash once and for all this embodiment of white male privilege is gone. It kills me.

There is so much at stake. There is so much that can still be lost. There is so much at risk. I won’t even try to list it all. The list is way too long. I can feel my heart twisting in my body just thinking of this horrible mess we’re found in.

A good friend of mine told me last night, “I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.” Man, I love her, but I almost started to cry then. Maybe I will cry now. I’d love to sleep for a couple days. I just want some time off from reality. I just want a warm body to hold me. I just want to be okay. I just want to feel safe. 

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Earlier all I wanted to do was rant. I’m not feeling so angry anymore, but maybe there are still some things on my chest. Here are some things I wish I would have said to my homophobic cousin last night in the already painful conversation that we had...

I think you’re wrong. Why don’t you try to understand me? You expect me to change my mind but I can’t hope that you’ll change yours? We’re talking about my gay Dad but you don’t even realize that everything blatant homophobic thing you say is pointed at me too. I want to punch your brother in the gut. Why don’t you care about other people’s happiness? Do you know what it means to be pious? Do you think that you’re better than me? Why don’t you listen to me? I don’t want to meet you for coffee later. I feel attacked by you. You make me want to cry. Your parents scare the shit out of me. This family isn’t supportive like you think it is. You think that gay people just need to “try harder” to not be gay?? Girl, that’s how people end up dead, like my Dad almost did. What the fuck do you think is so scary about being around gay people? I don’t want you to pray those things about me. I’m fucking excited to kiss a girl. I bet you don’t know how much I say fuck. And I could fucking care less. We may have grown up together but I can’t be around people who make me feel like shit because they are completely lacking empathy. I cannot relate to you.

But I don’t say these things. I would never dream of saying these things. 99% of the people I’ve met in my life have told me that I’m too nice. Maybe I’m not too nice in my head, but am I not entitled to feeling frustrated and angry sometimes? I have too much negative emotion in this body, I want to let it out. I don’t have energy to explode, so it comes out in spurts or just drains out...

[anxiousalexmp3]

💕

[ukume]

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

“I’ve never had a girlfriend, I fucking want one.”

Me today. Or rather, me everyday since I came out to myself 

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Cats or Dogs? Such is the age-old question that can quickly label a person’s identity as a Cat-person or a Dog-person and carries a significant amount of weight. 

I’ve recently come to start talking about [my] sexuality in terms of cats and dogs. Most people are one or the other, but I have always liked cats and dogs equally, much like my bi/pansexuality. So here we go.

Some people like cats. Some people like dogs. Some people like cats and dogs. Some people don’t like cats or dogs [and that’s OKAY!]. Just because you like cats doesn’t mean you don’t like dogs, you just might not own both, or call yourself a “dog-person.” And You don’t have to own a dog to know that you are a “dog-person” and not a “cat-person.” You just are.

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Coming Out (the Big one)

Yesterday I came out to the person I was most excited/most terrified to tell. And it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I’m 150% emotionally invested in this story, so I’m going to tell it. Read it if you’re looking for something hopeful to read.

I am currently 22 and my sister (let’s call her Stella) is 18 and just starting college. We have an older brother and two other sisters (one’s 21 and the other is 16). Though our sister who’s 21 is technically the middle child, she became the baby of the older group of kids and Stella and I began to show symptoms of the forgotten middle child. Both being INFJs, we became very close once I had gotten over the four year age difference.

Stella knew me better than anybody. Better than our parents. Better than any friend I had. Better than any guy I dated. And I am the type of person to let people WAY in if they’re willing. But somehow, Stella always knew me inside and out. She could see right through me. It is virtually impossible for me to lie to her. Sometimes she knew things about me that I didn’t even know about myself. And it was so amazing to know and be known by someone so similar to myself. I didn’t know any other INFJs until I went to college, so we had a lot to bond over as we both suffered with anxiety, depression, and hearts that were way too fucking big... together.

But Stella was also the person with an incredible moral code. When our brother first went to public high school and said small things like “darn” or “crap” she would actually point it out and correct him!! Our family is a Christian one, but Stella took it to a whole new level. After our dad came out as gay (and announced that he and our mom were divorcing) we all went into a state of shock, but Stella was the one that seemed like she’d never love him again.

You can imagine my fear as I began to question traditional beliefs as I entered college. I was not only disappointing my mom, but also the person who knew me the best. 

College has been an insanely great time for me to grow. I dated two guys (1st was mediocre and way too drawn out; 2nd was amazing and passionate until it crashed and burned) and I was pretty much able to tell Stella everything I was going through. With each year, I stood a little more firmer in my stance as an LGBTQ+ ally while continuing in my faith. Seems like a contradiction, I know. I wrote papers and did presentations on it. And it’s definitely a thing.

Last summer I stood up and let my dad’s extended family know that it wasn’t Dad vs. All of the them. I told them that I was on his side and that I was an ally. It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life, but I’ve never regretted that day. I got a lot flack for it; some of them don’t talk to me anymore. Seeing my mom’s face in the crowd, I knew she was proud of me for being bold, but I could see that she was disappointed about my beliefs. 

What followed was brutal. Apathy from my extended family I could take. But Stella confronted me one day and her one statement, “I don’t know who you are anymore” turned into a several hour conversation that left me devastated and in tears. I was terrified. I had lost one of my best friends. I had lost the person who knew me best. I had no idea if it would ever be better again. The only other helpless moment I can equate to this is when my parents told me they were divorcing and I wrote off the family as dead. 

Let me tell you that a lot of suppression has made me forget those awful days. I don’t even quite remember how we got talking again. But by Christmastime, I felt like we were on the road to becoming close once again.

She left the country for a while and through all the FaceTime sessions, we rebuilt our relationship. I was even able to tell her that I was sexually active with my then-boyfriend, and I couldn’t believe that she didn’t have a bad thing to say. Sure, she felt that it was more emotionally safe to only have sex with one person (which is what marriage is for) but she didn’t call me sinful or anything.

[Flash-forward through my recent heartbreak and all the emotional/spiritual support she gave me.]

It was summer again and I had been thinking about my sexuality for a while. I was finally coming out to myself as bi. I came out to a friend, then my 21 year-old sister, a couple more friends. I wanted to tell Stella so badly, but was terrified. I started this blog to get all the feelings out. I came out to my now-married dad (best. wedding. ever.) And then yesterday, we set up a time to talk and I knew I was going to do it.

So I told her. “So... I’m bisexual. It’s not that I like everybody, cause I’m actually not attracted to a lot of people. It’s like I’m attracted to masculinity, expect that person doesn’t have to be a guy.” “Um, girl,” Stella said as she smiled, “I’ve known this for a couple years now.” I WAS OVER THE FUCKING MOON!!! I was so happy, I didn’t know what to do. So I buried my face in my hands and just wanted to cry. She could not have been more happier for me. She could not have felt more like it wasn’t a big deal. She could not have been more happy to see my happy. She was sad I didn’t tell her first, naturally (cause so am I), but it was just the best coming out experience that I’ve had so far. And for the rest of yesterday, I was just smiling. One of my friends commented on how much happier I look. And I know that it’s because of Stella. Even though through coming out to myself and others I’ve become more confident in my skin, having Stella’s approval and love for me makes me excited and confident about dating women in the future. 

Dating women has left the “if” zone and entered the “when.” That’s terrifying but I’m also so fucking excited. I’m not looking to get into any serious relationships yet (which is hard not to look for, cause I’m cursed with being a very serious person) but when I think about the casual coffee/tea dates in my future, and how they could include any gender, it just fills me with so much hope and happiness for my future. 

That’s as condensed as I could make it. So this is for Stella and all my wonderful immediate family. I love you all so insanely much. 

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Today I met someone. I am in no shape for a relationship, I don’t want one. But I cannot say how it good it was to sit across the table with a girl who I know likes girls, and I have finally realized that I am a girl who likes girls. Maybe all we are going to be for each other is friends. No matter what, I’m delighted. I feel lighter. Someone who doesn’t know much about me at least knows this one big thing. It’s the simplest and most intense thing I’ve ever experienced. Also, it’s National Coming Out Day. So have a happy, gay day to all y’all LGBTQ+ folks out there, whether you’re out or not. You. Are. Fucking. Valid.

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Queer Speed-friending Experience

A couple days ago I attended my first LGBTQ+ event on my campus as an out-bisexual woman. It was scary. But it was so great.

It was an event based on speed-dating (you know, moving from chair to chair every couple minutes and meeting a plethora of people and only remembering a couple names). Except it was speed-friendshipping. Which meant that even though it was exhausting for all the introverts (and there were a LOT of us) the pressure was off, romantically/sexually speaking. And that was really nice.

I didn’t think that anyone would ask for my number. For some reason I still thought and I would leave the event and no one would have wanted to become my friend. And a couple people gravitated toward me. I couldn’t believe it!! I may have only left with about five numbers, but that was more than enough for me.

It was also really great to be at an LGBTQ+ event where the gender-queer representation was HUGE. It has been hard for me to understand the T part of LGBT for a long time, but that night, it just hit me so hard why it doesn’t matter what gender people identify with, or if they don’t want a gender at all. And as a bisexual person, it was great to look out into the crowd and think, “I could literally fall for anyone here.” And that got me thinking whether I should instead label myself as pansexual. (more on that another time)

And in the end I won a t-shirt with our university’s logo on it with a rainbow. And I felt like it was a sign that I had to wear it. I mean, like really wear it. Come out to people on campus. Come out to the rest of my friends. Come out to my family. It scares the shit out of me. But when I enter the dating world again, once my heart isn’t broken anymore, I do want to meet PEOPLE (men, women, gender-queer, it don’t fucking matter). And I want the people I love most to know that and not be surprised. Not feel like I’ve been lying to them. I guess I care about honesty too much. Curse of the INFJ. Fuck it. Oh well. :)

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

“What have I been in training for?”

“What have I been in training for?”

I heard this earlier today. A woman talk about how her faith links in with her vocation in life. Her job. She posed the question of if the events of your life were a training manual for your future, then what are your experiences doing for you and your future?

This is something I don’t want to forget. This is something that I want to dig into later and discover for myself. Think about it though, for yourself. What are you in training for? Has things, whether good or bad, cultivated strengths in you that others don’t have, gifts and talents you possess to make the world a better place?

If I am going on the two parts of myself that I am disclosing to this audience (my personality and my sexuality) then I would begin by saying that one thing maybe for me is empathy. I think I’ve been in training for empathy. Looking from the outside in, I can see so much and feel so much. 

What are you in training for?

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

INFJ: Curse of the “N”

What does the N stand for exactly? A wonderful INFJ friend of mine once put it this way: If you ask an S what a leaf is, they will say something like, “A leaf is usually green in the shape of a hand and they grow on trees.” The facts. If you ask an N the same thing, they will say something like, “Leaves grow on trees, and trees are beautiful and make up whole forests, and forests cover the earth providing oxygen for all living breathing things and.. and.. and.. THE UNIVERSE!!!!”

Yes, it is typical for Ns to think about the bigger picture much more often. Look at classic INFJ Daniel James Howell and his Existential Crises episodes. (Die-hard PHAN over here, btw).

Like most INFJs, I have always struggled with thinking about the bigger picture too much. This usually ends up with me feeling the weight of the world and the meaning of life and all the things that make me not want to get out of bed but simultaneously know that I am wasting precious time for every moment I stay in bed. I know this.

But I realized something really depressing this morning.

I virtually *cannot* live in the moment. My thoughts are always either in the past or in the future. For example, being with my family is probably my most favorite thing in the whole world. So when a weekend is around the bend where I’m going to see most or all of them, it’s all I can think about and that weekend, or that one day is what I am striving for. Everything I do is being productive and making time pass so that that day will come. And then I am there, in my childhood home with the people I love most in the world. And it really is great. I do love it so much. But I’m always disappointed. Almost always without fail.

For some reason it never meets my expectations and I can’t stay in the moment. I’m already thinking of the next time that we’ll be together. Or I’m thinking about what everyone is going through and why they may be acting differently. 

WHY THE FUCK AM I THIS WAY???????

All I want is to enjoy life. And the most enjoyment I seem to get is thinking about the plans I have coming up or the memory of when I was with someone. That moment, the ones I’ve been obsessing over, while I do enjoy them, they never are really great. I want this to change, but I don’t know how. And I could never tell anyone this because they would think that I don’t appreciate them and the time we have. Which isn’t true at all. I spend more time thinking about memories than thinking about the future. 

Tell me that I’m not the only one. Tell me what you do to make life better in the moment. How do we avoid the existential crisis? How can the curse of the N be a good thing? Because there must be benefits. I just can’t see them right now.

[haydengise]

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Talk about invisibility. Shout out to all asexual individuals. You are fucking valid!!!!!!!!

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

For two weeks I have been wearing a rainbow LGBTRC bracelet everywhere I go. A small statement. People who know me say, "Oh yeah, she's an outspoken ally." Finally bought a bisexual flag pin and put it on my backpack today next to one that says Queer inside a rainbow heart. To strangers as I walk: I am not straight. It's the little things. Coming out in little ways. I feel lighter and I smile.

[turtleshelldweller-blog]

Driving Home

My Spotify playlist was “Coldplay+” which obviously means Coldplay with some Young the Giant, Aurora, Lights, M83, etc. My perfect nighttime driving aesthetic.

I actually kinda hate the word aesthetic because it sound pompous. But so does pompous. Shit.

So I’m driving, letting myself drown in celestial melancholy. It’s probably the biggest love/hate relationship of being an INFJ. Loving how deeply you feel but also hating the horrible pain of feeling everything. I told my empty passenger seat that I hated everything: my broken relationship, my college career ending, my friendships waning, adulthood staring at me like an executioner. “Hello, I’ve come to shoot the youth, creativity, and happiness out of you. No big deal.”

As INFJs, maybe you all can confirm this with me. When we become vulnerable with people and ask for help in our lives, we aren’t always looking for specific help for that specific day. We want help to get through life. To survive. It’s really hard to survive.

When I’m feeling low, or even depressed, it’s like I want someone else to breathe for me. I’m feeling my pain, your pain, their pain, the world’s plain; the least someone could do is breathe for me so that I stay alive.