Realizations

We have life changing realizations every day. Some little, some small. The fact is that they change the path you were on and put you on a new one-good or bad, realizations and subsequent decisions change you. 

I knew I was different from a young age. I can’t give you an exact answer as to when that was, but at the very least I knew I wasn’t attracted to just boys by 4th grade. Sure I had boyfriends from 5th-11th grade, but I also knew that I cared more for girls than I cared or was allowed to admit. To be honest I just don’t think I understood what was going on. Mainstream media, my family, my community, didn’t talk about the Queer community. I don’t think it was intentional, we had a lesbian couple and their son living up the street from us when I was a kid and could freely interact and be watched by them- in no way were we taught negative things, but that’s also because we just weren’t taught anything. I don’t think it’s because it was mainstream or normal, more that they were seen as friends living together and if nobody talked about it, no one would ask questions. It honestly wasn’t until many years later, when my mom accepted that I was and am very much gay, that she even told me or reminded me.

After I began cutting and burning myself, prettily relentlessly, my parents had their own realization:the help that I was asking for, I actually needed it. Sure it took an emergency trip to the doctor a few days after Christmas for a variety of shots, among other things for them to give in, but I think it finally dawned on them that I wasn’t and am not okay. 

One thing I will never, ever be caught saying is that my parents don’t love me. I know they do. I know how fiercely and deeply my mother loves me. I know how much my father cares for my well being and image, and in his own way, and in our own fucked up understanding of each other he would turn the world inside out for me. I will not ever question that they love me. How they show that love, I will always, always have issue with. 

Realizations: a part of me will always be suicidal, a part of me will always battle agains self-mutilation, a part of me will always struggle against my hate-filled relationship with food, my father may never accept all of me, my mother will never know how to help me the way that I need her to, I will never be societies definition of normal. But the biggest realization of all, these things are all okay. I understand them, I accept them, I battle with them every day, but none of these things define who I am, who I will become and who I strive to be. They are each a very small part of my bigger picture. 

6.3.16

Part 1: Adolescense 

Psychologically speaking Adolescense starts at around the same time as puberty, though not always. Since every human is different it’s something like age 12-18. For me, I have no idea when it started, i was always so far emotionally ahead than many of my peers that it was truly different for me. I noticed a difference though towards the end of elementary (primary) school. I could no longer control what I was feeling, I constantly felt lost, like I wasn’t normal and that maybe, just maybe I wasn’t built to survive this world. 

I don’t know what it was, I didn’t have a bad life; I had and have two parents that love me so fiercely it’s crazy, I had a home, I played sports, like a lot of them, I got good grades, I even had tons of friends and my share of boyfriends, yes boyfriends. Really there was no reason for me to feel like this. Not yet at least. 

7th Grade

I’m sure everyone can remember their transition from primary school to middle or high school. It fucking sucked. I went from being one of the most popular kids in school to a nobody and lost most of my friends along the way. I just didn’t fit in anymore. Sure, I made enough new friends and did okay in my classes-honor roll and all that stupid stuff-but I just didn’t feel like i belonged. If I really analyze it, it had nothing to do with knowing I was gay. I have had plenty of therapists go down this line, but that’s not what it was. My mind wasn’t on boys or well girls either, or drinking and doing whatever was cool. No, my mind was on school, playing soccer and enjoying myself. Unfortunately for me that didn’t include illegal activities so I ended up isolating myself albeit unintentionally. 

It’s probably no coincidence that that year I began cutting and burning. I was big into skating so it wasn’t that big of a stretch if my parents noticed a ridiculous amount of cuts going up my arms. I think they knew though, maybe not the full extent or my feelings, but they knew something wasn’t right. I’m crazy private though. 

That’s one thing I know for certain about myself. You know what I want you to know. You see what I want you to see and I tell you what I want you to hear. So my parents heard and saw what I wanted them to see: a daughter that was fine, that loved her life and was enjoying being in said life. I’ve gotten better about it. I’ve let my walls down some, I’ve built them back up but I included some windows this time. Some people are (un)lucky enough to know how to get though and see what’s behind. My face has and will always give me away, but if you can’t read me, well I’m just your every day girl with some serious rbf and slightly monotone voice that really doesn’t talk more than necessary. 

It was always this way, I used to be really outgoing. The world, humans and the human brain has a funny way of breaking people. 

As I feel up to the task in going to be writing my story. It’s in a particular order that isn’t necessary chronological, but it maps out me now. It’s not a pretty story, it’s not always a happy story, and I have no guarantee that the ending is a happy one. It’s my story though so it is what it is. Believe it or not, this is a lighter look, it was the easiest piece to write. My story it’s not a pretty one for about 6-8 years following the end of this part. 

Anyway. Everything is connected. Everything has a purpose, and nothing is meaningless. From the bottom of my heart I know this to be true. 

6.1.16