Dear Janelle

Dear Janelle,

I’m writing you this because I can’t really call you, or I could but I’d just be hearing your voice and I don’t want to make this any harder than it has been for the past few years.

We have been one in sync with each other since we were born. Attached to the hip some might say.

We were raised the same way, same values. But we started to drift farther and farther apart when we were in our early twenties, but we stayed together for the sake of our routines and our loved ones.

We knew that if we drifted too far apart, our families wouldnt accept us as much as they did when we tried to force things to work.

I’m finding a new love within myself and so I have to let most of you go, but I will never deny that you were ever on my mind, or in my heart, but the time has come for me to shed my old skin and walk in new shoes.

You will always be apart of me and I’ll hold you with me always, but like a child with their favourite blanket, they let go of it eventually but always remember it. You have been my blanket for my entire life.

I am filing a divorce from you so that I can be who I need to be on my own, but I’m sure we will still talk from time to time and your name will come up in conversations, probably often as I tell the story of us, but for now I have to let most of you go.

Never forgotten.

Braeydyn.

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Sometimes I dread family gatherings even though they usually end up alright.

It isn’t because I don’t enjoy them, I just know that the people I’m sometimes surrounded by are people who don’t always accept and support my transition. I haven’t started transitioning yet but I plan to do so.

Today though, this family gathering was one of the best gatherings I’ve had in a very long time. The reason being that my younger brother, growing up we fought non-stop and we literally could not breathe the same air without some sort of fight happening and he never supported me being transgender, actually… ACTUALLY called me by my preferred name without it seeming forced. Sometimes he’d call me by my legal name afterwards but would laugh jokingly. It was a really nice feeling. He got a new phone and asked how to spell my name and what my email was. No other questions were asked. He actually has come around whether he supports me or not, he’s been making an effort.

It kind of givs me a little more hope regarding my entire family. That helped me so much already.

I’ve been feeling on and off shitty and lately just spending time with my family and my friends has made me feel less alone.

Usually I just sit with my thoughts and yesterday I stepped out of the house for the first time in literally 3 days. I’d wake up every few hours and then sleep consistantly for another 3 or 4 hours. I’d then stay in my room all day.

I had weird side effects from my medication and even now, I keep thinking about the things I’ve done, ways I’ve treated people, especially those who didn’t even do me any harm to begin with. I can’t go back, hell knows I would if I could. But I can’t.

Things usually turn out to be okay, I always turn out okay. It was enough for a while, but now it’s more than enough right now. I’d rather be okay than where I was exactly a week ago tonight.

I haven’t made much progress as far as relationships and friendships go, but the motivation is slowly creeping back up a few levels instead of constantly spiraling downwards.

I’ve been having trouble writing poetry lately, but I’m finally able to write these words tonight.

Tonight, I am okay. Tonight, I can feel and I’m okay with that. Tonight, I’m a bit sad, but I. Am. OKAY..

I’m actually in a good mood and I want to document this moment because it’s rare that I actually write about my feelings instead of how I think I’m feeling.

I feel warm and soft and sweet. I actually care and it’s taken me years to realize that I’m not the thoughts that come rushing at me in the middle of the night.

I’m not the invasive panic attacks that hit me when I’m out in public doing literally nothing but walking around or sitting down.

I am this person who has allowed their thoughts to win against their heart.

I am this person who is very good, but prefers to self project their insecurities on to people and attempt to push them awya before they can run off by themselves.

I’ve placed so much dwelling and hatred on my past that I literally have been living in it. Some days now, I’m out of it walking around with a new head and a fresh start.

I’ve come quite far, but I still have things to do, things to work on and places to be.

No one can go back into the past, you can only move forward even if it hurts to move forward. I’ve held back so much that I’m getting to the point where even if I don’t want to let certain thigns go, I need to.

I’e bene holding onto the person iw as because it’s who I’ve been living as for my entire life almost. I’m not that person as a whole, just parts. I am someone else and that is okay.

 

 

Testosterone Steps.

For those of you who have been following me on here you’d know that I’ve been on and off with not knowing whether I want to transition or not and for thos ewho don’t know, I have been struggling with my own mind regarding if transitioning is seen as a best fit for me or not.

I keep going back to the decision of taking testosterone and furthering my transition. For a really long time, I was just fine with simply getting just top surgery, but now I’ve decided that I’d like to go ahead and take the proper steps towards taking testosterone.

I booked an appointment with my doctor for next week to get some papers signed to get testosterone approved by the government.

Even if it isn’t approved and I have to pay for it, I’ll be happy either way. Although I’m not on testosterone yet, just the idea of it excites me more and more everytime I think about it. I know that taking testosterone and even getting top surgery won’t always be happy and a bowl of cherries, there will be ups and downs just like every other thing that goes on in my life. But this is what I’m taking into consideration and not just pushing the down sides away.

Back Burner Mental.

I’m sorry that my mental healt is such an inconvenience. But this isn’t any different. Maybe I could learn to not react as strongly as I do at all the “wrong: times, but I need you two, more than you know.

This isn’t just going to go away, simply just by sitting down and talking with people who already made it clear that they will never support me. That’s why I hate it when people tell me that family will come around, and maybe some people’s families do come around, and maybe I could be worse off, but this is already my version of “worse”.

It’s getting to the point where I’m realizing that most of me is just confining myself to other people’s perceptions. I get it it’s not something easy, it’s not something that can happen over night. But I’m just as confused as you are if not more.

I’m the person you raised, just altered. I’m your daughter who is now your son…. atleast in my eyes. I have support, but not by many family members and it hurts when I say that I’m going to have to cut out family and all you say is “do what you need to do”…. why can’t you just come around? Why can’t you just call me male. I’ve been mostly gender fluid mostly my entire life and now that I’m trying to actually be upfront and in the open about it, I’m being shut down.

People tell me to step into your shoes and try to see what it would be like to have a child who’s transgender or who is just simply being themselves. I’d like to think that even if I hadn’t gone through what I’ve gone through, that I’d try to understand what my child goes through. I’d like to think that I’d still love them with open arms and a steady heart.

Maybe you will come around, I’m just tired of feeling like I deserve this. Like I deserve to be told that I’m someone I’m not and just the thought of being introduced to people by the pronouns I grew up with, rather than my actual pronouns and name, actually hurts me more than the reality of it.

I love you, I probably always will. But sometimes Love simply isn’t enough. I’m tired of putting my mental health at risk. For anyone but myself.

Dysphoria at its finest.

You’re just sitting there glancing, looking through the old and the new and all of a sudden you can feel it.

Feel that feeling where your eyes are becoming flooded and you’re trying your best to figure out why and what’s causing the liquid to start surfacing.

You try to erase who you were because out of nowhere, you don’t even know who you are today or who you will be, but regardless, your shirt still feels tight.

You look down and it’s as though quicksand had started to absorb certain parts of you and your legs no longer can stand the test of your own strength.

Letting go of your muscles, your tears finally start falling and you see other people who appear to be struggling in similar ways, but that makes you feel worse.

Then, comparing yourself again, you look at your own self and you can’t seem to find anything worth holding on to, slipping.

Finally, you give up trying to fight, shake the weight that has just suddenly punched you with most of it’s wrath and just attempt to distract yourself until the next time.

You know you’ll make it through, but with each and every passing moment, it gets slightly harder.

Mom, dad, I’m your son.

Mom, dad, it’s as though you have three sons instead of two and one daughter
Was what I said to my parents before I realized I was who I am today
Although I may have said it in a joking way, I was being serious
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll say it again to them
And maybe, just maybe, I can tell them that every time they say ” I love you…. but…” that the ” but ” only encourages me back into the closet I forgot existed besides the one I store my clothes in
So dark, so full of confusion and self hatred
They may be confused, but so am I at times
But they still have a child, just a slightly differently version
They didn’t lose a daughter, they just lost the label
They gained a son