I Can't Wait....

... to die...

PS: Just something calming washed over me at this thought. That I would one day get there too.

I think I done did well

Yesterday, upon asking me for my thoughts on whether or not the supernatural exists, a masters student asked me if I thought there was anything such as a debatable and a non debatable topic.

I went on to say that there are, objectively, matters that aren't up for debate. And since we were on the subject of the supernatural, I said, yes, something like the supernatural could be up for debate.

Lo and behold, she proceeded to ask me if I thought LGBTQIA+ was a matter of opinion.

And so, for the next hour or so I spent my time schooling her on nuances of gender, sexuality, sex assigned at birth, and the non-questionable validity of LGBTQIA+ individuals and identities!

If I don't ever do anything else in my life as a queer person, this one thing makes my life complete!

Ice Cream

A senior from my former university passed today.

While I was there (in uni doing my degree) we hung out. We weren't particularly close.

But I do remember him teasing me, calling me things like "savadi sarekke" (usually meant hot women in Tamil) and even spanked my ass a couple of times (sigh, I want my ass from my 20s back).

Which, thinking back now, is probably sexual harassment.

Above all, this entry was necessary because I wanted a reminder that this man propositioned me for sex (at least twice after we had both graduated from uni). Here's the kicker, he was married when this happened.

Dear senior TL, I wonder which life awaits your soul next.

A Colossal Joke!

I come from a country where its citizens are proud that they're one of the most transphobic countries in the world.

I am also an assigned male at birth, non-binary, trans femme individual.

To have brought me into existence in this situation must've been a colossal celestial joke.

Or some really shit karma.

Proven True Against My Will

I recall an entry I wrote in the beginning of the pandemic entitled Privelege vs Lucky. 

In it I wrote that I should have thought about throwing money at my problems as a solution; said problems arising from my family.

Today it was proven irrevocably true.

No, my parents aren't gold digging opportunists.

But they are the hopeless middle class couple, pitifully clueless as to why they're the way they are, still steadfast to archaic dogshit piled on by their parents. Indoctrinated into believing that their parents were moral fiber incarnate while absolutely hellbent on upholding it!

What follows is the lack of resources and financial security they desperately craved for hoping their kin would provide. 

Unfortunately they also wanted both their children to only be sons.

So, I conformed.

I forced myself to act like a boy and later a man.

I was refused fashion designing as a tertiary interest.

I went down the "dignified" science pathway and did the damn biotechnology degree.

I even did the damn food science and technology masters.

I gave up dance for a couple of months to finish writing my masters thesis only to gain weight, tear my meniscus, gain even more weight and not be able to dance since.

I stayed away from displaying my makeup passions for as long as I have because I didn't want to "bring shame to my parents".

I hid my clandestine venture into theater where I got to act as a woman on stage and do drag (which if I had documented and posted on socmed, would have probably gotten me enough views to monetise my channel).

Now I have done the damn PhD but I am completely broke, and utterly broken.

Today, an altercation lead to my mother loudly verbalising her victimhood with absolutely no clue as to what I've been through simply to "not bring them shame".

Which I'm realising I just should have since doing that would not only allowed me to live life the way I wanted to but also be able to provide for them. COMFORTABLY!

But that would have "brought them shame".

An idea brought on by their idiotic parents.

FUCKING IDIOTS!

UNLEARN GENERATIONAL TRAUMA AND INTERNALISED BIASES GODDAMNIT!!!

STOP PUSHING IT ONTO YOUR CHILDREN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Trauma Dump

The very first time I found out that I was an outcast and that I needed to hide myself in this world was when my parents accosted me both physically and verbally for having played with my mother's makeup, carrying her handbag and wearing her chunky kitten heel shoes. 

Another core memory was, after scoring highest in a subject in school and receiving my prize on stage in a ceremony with other top scorers, my mom, instead of being proud and congratulating me said something to the effect of this to me. 

When you got on stage to get your trophy, why did you walk so softly with your hips moving left to right, like a girl! You must stand up tall, clench your fists, walk like a man!!! It was really embarrassing!!!

Clearly this isn't verbatim because in addition to it happening in my childhood, it has been at least two and a half decades since this event transpired.

I would, in stages, mostly verbally sometimes physically, by both my parents, aunt and uncles, and elder cousins, be constantly accosted for; 

wanting to only hang out with girls or women,

wanting to learn how to cook,

wanting to have my ears pierced,

wanting to look at and play with beautiful sarees and pretty jewelry,

wanting to play with makeup,

wanting to only sing out the ladies parts in duet songs,

wanting to grow out my hair,

wanting to walk a certain way,

wanting to act a certain way,

wanting to move my hands a certain way,

wanting to cross my legs when I sat,

wanting to not play sports,

wanting to not play with boys,

wanting to not change together with the boys,

wanting to not sleep with the rest of the boys, 

(I know, I know, I play, change and sleep with boys now... HA-HA-HA)

wanting to not watch football,

wanting to not watch ANY sporting event,

wanting to do fashion after high school.

Trauma dump. What a curious thing.

It still does the job

Achieving a recent positive milestone in life meant, or so I thought, that I wouldn't need the ill-advised coping mechanism I picked up not too long ago.

But as of that particular event, which was just over a month ago, I have still resorted to said coping mechanism. Twice. 

And no, it was never a daily affair, even prior to the uplifting milestone. Not that it can't be done daily but if I did perform it daily, it would've meant that I legitimately needed DIRE intervention. That being said, twice in a month is still plenty.

I know what triggered it but I didn't realise that the trigger would have had as much weight anymore considering the aforementioned milestone event seemed like it lifted off at least half the proverbial load I bear.

Maybe the landmark event wasn't as effectual as I thought it would be.

Maybe I still bear most of the weight having only lost but a fraction of it.

What do you call him?

What do you call a man, who, having found out that you get chills and trembles when being intimate, does the following;

First sits next to you, close enough to touch but not too close to trigger your anxiety response, until you calmed down, for a good 3 to 4 minutes.

Holds your hand and realises you are beginning to tremble again so continues to hold your hand for the next 5 minutes saying things like, it's ok, nothing to be afraid of here and talks random things while still being cognisant to not turn you off.

Comes in closer and just sits next to you in a loving side embrace for your trembles to subside for a couple more minutes.

Then gives you a sensual hug all the while making sure he isn't doing anything too fast to trigger your anxiety and trembles.

Slowly begin to explore kissing and in the midst of doing so realises your trembles and chills began again so slows down and just hugs you tighter.

And when your anxieties are completely calm gives you the best sex of your life!

After all this was said and done.

Ghosts you.

I must have been terrible!

And, no, haven't had sex recently.

This was my last time.

Yea, that one in 2018.

EEAAO

My parents accosted me both verbally and physically when, as a child, I was found wearing my mother's heels and playing with her makeup.

My brother threatened to unalive me when I attempted to come out to him as gay.

Today, the three of them were watching Everything Every All At Once.