“They told me all of my cages were mental so I got wasted like all my potential. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying.” ~ This is Me Trying, Taylor Swift
“Keep your helmet, keep your life, son. Just a flesh wound, here’s your rifle. Crawling up the beaches now “Sir, I think he’s bleeding out”
And some things you just can’t speak about.” ~ Epiphany, Taylor Swift
Sometimes the only words I can think of are someone else’s words. Right now, I mostly have Taylor Swift lyrics in my head. It could always be worse. Once upon a time, I was supposed to be writing a sermon, but I came here instead.
This week I’ve gotten my blood drawn to check my hormone levels, had a therapy session with a skeleton in the background, and had a haircut. And my wife and I have had some interesting conversations about gender, bottom dysphoria, and packers, etc.
Also, the group chats I’m apart of for queer folx and trans/non binary folx have been very active this week. Perhaps it is because of Leo season, I don’t know.
This stream of consciousness livejournal I’ve been keeping this summer has been fun. As long as I keep writing, it is successful. If I fall behind, I just catch up again. 2020 is all about giving ourselves a break and showing one another grace in impossible and difficult times no one could have imagined.
“Don’t call me kid. Don’t call me baby. Look at this god forsaken mess that you’ve made me.” ~ Illicit Affairs, Taylor Swift
Really, I came here because a few photos came up in my memories today. And, well, I’ll let them speak for themselves.
Four years ago, I was in the process of coming out as queer and not in a safe home environment. I was living with my parents after graduating college and desperately needing to get out.
Three years ago, I DID get out but it took a long time for me to feel ok and safe. Sometimes I still don’t feel safe but I know I am. Three years ago, I look back and the me then feels haunted. Haunted and sad. Like, if I didn’t make it out of that alive, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. My parents begged me to stay after attempts to force me into conversations with their pastor and a “biblical counselor” of their own choosing failed.
To three years in the past me:
I just want you to know that you will be ok. You will find love and safety and family. You will find all of those things in abundance and in ways you never thought possible. Keep going, dear heart. You will make it out of this alive and you will fucking shine.
All that to say, surviving hell and abusive situations is possible. But it’s surviving hell, and hell doesn’t leave you unscathed. But you will be ok. You might even start smiling again–but for real this time.