I always knew I was different, but I was never allowed to be after a certain point. As a kid, I didn’t really care if something was “girly”, and my family held onto the thought it was something I was going to grow out of. I never did.
As I grew older, it became more “No, you can’t like this, you can’t look like this, stop thinking about that”. All I really had was my dad, who was in a different state, and I really felt like I couldn’t get away to him, away from the ones who were making me feel so awful.
Just before my teens, my mom got with a transphobic, homophobic abusive piece of shit. They were together for years, and nothing I did was right. I had his idea of masculinity physically beaten into me, with her dragging me back every time I tried to get away, because I didn’t want to lose her.
That led to years of depression, and repression. Of crafting this person who wasn’t me, just to fit in with this ideal that wasn’t ever mine. My dad made the offer to become my full time parent after things got so bad it all just came bursting out.
After that, things did get a bit better. I got to explore my sexuality, got involved with theatre, started feeling like I was getting to know myself, but I kept pushing away the rest. The side of me that was screaming so loudly that the reason things felt so good was because they were right.
It took another 20 years of dancing around the subject with myself to finally sit down and have a talk with someone about things. It opened the floodgates, everything felt so terrifyingly comfortable. That was a little over 2 years ago. Now, while I would say I’m far from done, I’m getting better. I feel like I still find new things that have been there all this time, and I’ve really built up the confidence to go out into the world more as myself. I feel like I’ve started figuring out what I’ve wanted all these years.
I always knew I was different, but I was never allowed to be after a certain point. As a kid, I didn’t really care if something was “girly”, and my family held onto the thought it was something I was going to grow out of. I never did.
As I grew older, it became more “No, you can’t like this, you can’t look like this, stop thinking about that”. All I really had was my dad, who was in a different state, and I really felt like I couldn’t get away to him, away from the ones who were making me feel so awful.
Just before my teens, my mom got with a transphobic, homophobic abusive piece of shit. They were together for years, and nothing I did was right. I had his idea of masculinity physically beaten into me, with her dragging me back every time I tried to get away, because I didn’t want to lose her.
That led to years of depression, and repression. Of crafting this person who wasn’t me, just to fit in with this ideal that wasn’t ever mine. My dad made the offer to become my full time parent after things got so bad it all just came bursting out.
After that, things did get a bit better. I got to explore my sexuality, got involved with theatre, started feeling like I was getting to know myself, but I kept pushing away the rest. The side of me that was screaming so loudly that the reason things felt so good was because they were right.
It took another 20 years of dancing around the subject with myself to finally sit down and have a talk with someone about things. It opened the floodgates, everything felt so terrifyingly comfortable. That was a little over 2 years ago. Now, while I would say I’m far from done, I’m getting better. I feel like I still find new things that have been there all this time, and I’ve really built up the confidence to go out into the world more as myself. I feel like I’ve started figuring out what I’ve wanted all these years.