Oh, so that's what they meant........

I remember writing about both my Thailand trips on Just Me.

I also remember mentioning that a cousin asked me how Thailand was and that I responded with, 'it was GREAT and I want to live there'!

This was over 10 years ago.

After that, I would be made privy, progressively and over some years, as to why a lot of cis straight Indian men (or perhaps it's just all cis straight men) from Malaysia love taking trips to Thailand.

So the missing puzzle to this anecdote is the way the (male) cousin replied.

You know that congratulatory sleazy smile toxic cishet men give other toxic cishet men upon revealing their sexcapades?? I got that respond along with the words, "Ohhh, you had fun ah???? Ok Ok!"

And one day, years later, the former situation wherein I zealously announce my affinity to Thailand and how this man replied, came to mind, coinciding with the latter revelation of men's reason to visit Thailand.

And then it hit me....

Oh..... he thought that I....

Bless this Christian asshole!

Fucking dickhead doesn't know I'm a non-binary gay ass cock-sucking sissy!

Damn, men are so emotional!!

I missed a Dear Just Me,

And it's so surprising since I could've sworn on all that I hold dear that I wrote about it.

It was an uncle and technically one that's close to mom, because he was married to her sister. And by that extension, he's a close relative of mine too...

However, I didn't feel the TINIEST bit remorse because this man's birthday wishes to me were along the lines of:-

Uncle: Happy Birthday kunji (bird in Tamil, and it goes without saying that it's euphemism for penis)
Me: Thanks peripa.
Uncle: So your kunji got longer... How much longer?

Come to think of this, a condescending "kunji" was standard greeting with this man.

Imagine how a non binary person with gender dysphoria like me felt, EVERY FUCKING TIME I see this man!

This man was also chock full of of misogynistic jokes in addition to being toxic masculinity incarnate!

He once called to scold me, YES SCOLD ME (I was in my thirties at this point) for accompanying my aunties (a bunch of "girls") saying, "what are you doing with the ladies, you kunji you".

In short, I NEVER looked forward to meeting this man. NEVER!

He passed in 2021 of cancer.

That's sad, obviously. He was beloved by his wife, daughters, grandchildren, in addition to the extended family, my mom included.

But not to me.

This was a preface to a story about another uncle (mom has two other married sisters), who was close to him.

Just as misogynistic, just as toxic, but this one was tolerable because those jokes about my penis annually gaining inches was absent along with a much helpful quieter disposition.

In reference to the title of this post, a few weeks ago, he started crying when speaking about his deceased friend (the dead uncle).

And as sad as it is, and as entitled he is to be sad about his friend, I just imagine a woman, any woman close to my deceased uncle; his wife, his daughters, crying in the midst of talking about him and how he would have invariably made fun of them or told them to get over themselves.

All while, the reactions he got was sympathy.

Except me of course.

Although I didn't externalise it, I was internally laughing my ass off!

Damn, cis toxic masculine men are helluh emotional!

Toughen up! Jeez!

2024

Three months into the year.

No more prophecies to myself this time around.

Life will life.

Let's see.

Just Me turns 18 on the 29th of March.

Can't believe I have kept it alive despite 2008 and 2009 being totally devoid of content.

I reread my very first post.

DEAR GOD, I wanted to slap young me!

DEAR GOD, if could I would've!!!

HARD!!!

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.