Monday, August 3, 2009


I've been trying really hard the past few months to be more open, and to maybe tell people that I'm not as angry as I seem, and I've been realizing how angry I am and I've been writing a lot about becoming more feminine, nicer, kinder, and that I was ready to allow someone else to maybe make decisions in a relationship. I decided to reveal that there was a person inside there who wasn't just angry at life. I let my guard down. This part of me is guarded with angry dogs to scare people away and cameras so I know when someone's getting close (and this analogy is getting overdone so I'll move on.) That ended up not going so well. I don't want to be misunderstood, so I'll explain.

I don't WANT to look like I need rescuing. I don't WANT to look like I need someone to ride off into the sunset with me. And you know, this is my blog that none of my RL friends are supposed to know about, so I'm going to get as personal about my life as I feel is necessary. Otherwise, what's the point of having it? Every time someone in RL asks to read it, I always say no. I asked both of my parents, BFF, my stylist (who doubles as a therapist sometimes), and my brother if they got that vibe. They didn't. My dad is so wise. He didn't sound surprised at all to hear that something I was hoping for with someone didn't work out. Now, no one in my family belongs to this Christian community we all belonged to; my brother just left too. I had my own reasons for leaving, including being given an ultimatum regarding my bisexuality. I decided a place I cannot be out is a place I can't be at all without being miserable. Not a lot of straight people understand that. They think it's something I can box away and express at scheduled times so that other people are not uncomfortable.

Where was I going with that? Oh yeah. He said I need to be with someone who likes the real me. Unbeknownst to me, I was faking it. I'm glad I came to that realization. So to get back to the real me: I'm redyeing my hair dark brown (and doing purple streaks instead of pink) and I'm getting that tattoo, although not of the same thing (something similar to this cat, I'm going to have the tattoo artist help draw it). I'm excited about it.

Right now I'm leaving my skirt behind (see the picture at the bottom). I'm not leaving femme behind (because as well all know femme doesn't always = skirts and whatnot) but I'm taking a few days to feel less vulnerable. I almost feel like it's drag when I wear boy clothes deliberately. It's something tangible that I can wear as a shield, to help give me the confidence I need to get me through whatever it is until my insides recover. I feel like a bad feminist, because I should feel confident and safe in women's clothes. But I don't. And after writing about TW and what he did to me, it made me remember how helpless I felt and how I could almost physically feel myself spiraling. I don't want to be the person who needs someone. When I said I wanted someone to take care of me, what I meant was that I want a partner who is not going to get me drunk and take advantage of me. Someone who isn't going to threaten to kill or maim anyone who looks at his girlfriend for too long. Someone who will stop when I say no. And most importantly, someone who will know the balance between love, respect, and chivalry, and having fun and doing things like grabbing me by my collar and kissing me (which is totally hot, by the way). That's what I want.

I had a long talk with my dad and he said that I needed to just cut myself off from people who believed such opposite things because it would only frustrate me to try and be friends with them. It doesn't succeed, because I feel on the outside. I hate myself for trying so hard to talk and fit in and then knowing all too well that I will have nothing to say to anyone except for this one really cool guy who spent 3o minutes with me talking to me about WOW and what's in hot dogs. But on the whole we have different worldviews and that's never going to change. My parents may not like this community we were in, and they don't keep in contact with anyone, but my dad pointed out that I go further and I just do not agree with pretty much anything so being involved in that even in small ways will simply make me feel worse about myself. He has a point. He discouraged me from moving to a bigger city in case I just get isolated there too. The other night I felt so suffocated in the straight bar I thought about it. I read what you all have to say and I am envious that you have like-minded friends and some semblance of a GLBT community. I want that. And even if you don't have a huge community, you have a partner. I'm envious. I'll give myself this year to see how it all works.

I don't know what the solution is. I have a few things I know of where I can get involved and I am going to try really hard to go. Dad said to throw myself into something I love so I'm going to take my camera more places and get back into that more. We'll see. Anything to help.

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