Love & Grief: How To Be Single

 

(by Nayyirah Waheed)

    Passing the Full Moon in Virgo I loved in freedom. Drowning in tears I bathed in my own blood for rebirth, like daughters of the moon I grieve in love as I give birth to myself once more. Belly-button bleeding with femininity transcending a mother and newborn in one - holding a breath and waiting to cry. I give thanks to honour the grandmother moon, as "love is moontime teaching" (Billy-Ray Belcourt).

"I'm trying to remember you and

let you go at the same time."

- the mourn by Nayyirah Waheed

    How does one grieve over love ? Especially in such isolations during the pandemic... I was supposed to let go last Spring but since quarantine and city lockdowns I found myself holding on, still reaching out and texting back, afraid of loneliness when it already feels like my depression is killing me slowly. Throughout 2020, we went through another year of what it seems of us versus the world, which is a clear red flag of co-independence that I've trying to change in connection from romance to friendship. Yet sometimes, what's meant to end will change its course accordingly, unbothered by my own logical timeline of closure attempts... Let's not pretend that softness survives in concrete wastelands like these, as its not the substance of my love changed but the softness of my love disappointed. I become angry but so helpless to witness a loved one being chased by anti-Black violence and capitalism to the point of no peace - in spirals of social paranoia/distrust/isolation and mental/emotional restlessness. It's extra difficult when I believe in, work with, and have survived through anti-capitalist ideals of community grassroots and mutual-aid practices/politics/poetics... I ask again and again of how to breathe softer so we don't break yet the truth is, some can not afford to breathe deep, or to rest without stress and plan without panic. So how does one love through grief ? How does one really let go when becoming so good at understanding/empathizing ? How does one still believe in the healing of love ?

Him: "sometimes I feel like being a Black man in Canada,

you gotta be a superhero you know ? you have to dodge all the bullets, 

even the invisible ones, and those are the worst ones too 

- they get into your head and makes you think its you.,,"

    Loving has taught me so much, maybe too much that it feels heavy in the heart but I have to believe that its worth the grief to love better, even at times when I forget how to dream with tears flooding my bedsheets. I try to ease my heartache by looking to the Black/Indigenous/trans women/femmes that have came and loved before, as grieving/loving masculinity and healing/rehabilitating colonial-patriarchal violences have been such transcendent teachings of us femmes surviving/navigating relations... Thus I must not give up on love, and I shall prepare and work harder to love ever softer. I need to un/relearn more, and to contribute this energy back into my community efforts. As I've learnt that my love is not a haven for the hurt but can be such raw materials to build and cultivate safer spaces. Perhaps the most honourable and humbling lesson of love is to know its shifting power of being everything and nothing at the same times... When I say I love him but his stomach growls back in answer. When I can't love or pray someone out of police custody, when I can't convince him to stop working and sleep more, when I can't love him out of debts or the demons in his head... How does one keep loving without crying myself out of breath ?

Him: "one day you're gonna find someone soft and relaxed,

not pressured like an animal towards their goals..."

    Sometimes we don't even know of our own softness/magic. As I remembered one night he asked why I say that I'm searching for softness when it's already in me, I come to understand bell hook's notions of "soul-murder" being similar to the violent disconnections from our softness within. I hope he can slow down and listen to the softer voices - a sound I wish to continue amplify so we no longer come to conversations with ourselves in desperation of worth or validation. I wish him a break to breathe without rushing air or swallowing regrets... I hope him well, and over the Full Moon first I hold him in memories of gratitude. He is my first love and by far one of the greatest lessons of my life, one that will continue in my life in different ways/forms. He has taught me to be loved and I only wish that I have shared my softness enough and well. I love him, and I know that I will always love him til the ends of space/time as he has embodied a safe space for me also. He doesn't know how special and capable of love he is with the possibilities/seeds of love and change already in him just waiting for him to water/grow... We have loved, and that’s the most beautiful thing a human can ever do. It breaks my heart and shatters my heart at times when I won’t be able to save him from systematic violence, when I don’t know how to help other than easing stresses by some contributions here and there, and I just hope that someday he can really dream and imagine beyond survival... I believe that we can return in the future with deeper loving relations but for our growing pains now I'm thankful for being so loved and held softly through. Thank you my love, for holding space for my moon even if I'm filled with sadness and when I feel less than full.

    Thus how to be single is learning to breathe when heartbreak. Perhaps soul shattering but beautiful in ways we fall, deep, then finally back to ourselves. As empty and lonely I feel, I am hopeful as I have been loved and I will continue to love, fuller... How to be single is a lesson in-between love poems; How to love and grief is to embrace myself fully once again holding the moon. 

City Blues: Melancholy

CW/TW: mentions of death, grief, trauma, homelessness,

mental health, sexual violence, suicidal ideations...

"Later that night, I held an atlas on my lap,

ran my fingers across the whole world, 

and whispered, 'where does it hurt ?'

It answered: everywhere

everywhere,

everywhere..."

- Warsan Shire

          I can't stop crying, anywhere and everywhere in the city - whether in an empty room waiting to be furnished despite/among economic uncertainties, or while walking to the harbour waterfront in socio-political anxieties: she is wilting but still waiting and meditating on love. Downtown Tkaronto reminds me of growing up in Taipei with all walks of life on the streets and traffic sounds all night-long. It reminds me of back when I was dreaming of New York City too, of how I envisioned a femme searching for love and herself among skyscrapers/city greens always in style... However, the city can still be cold and lonely in such warming Spring, especially with me growing into more a community server and observer against capitalism instead of an advocate/lover for a comfortable city/urban life... I see neighbours wrapping barbwires around trees - drawing lines of difference and constructing barriers of defence in our own backyards, thus I pray for what suffering must the trees feel and endure because of our egotistic needs/desires ? I ordered a new bed because I don't know how to stop crying on a mattress that I've been ra*ed on. I have become so tired, even in my sleeps - I feel as if I have forgotten how to dream... I called my mother crying after midnight apologizing for moving away, asking if I deserve and if my body is worth buying a queen-sized bed... I don't know how to function or keep up with violence, the world is burning/fighting and yet people are still walking animals past humans sleeping on benches. I feel and become exhaustion: I scroll/type on screens for scattering heartbeats; I hold onto my device tight as if its my last breath to post, to share, to repost, to donate, to check-in, to rant, to cry, to rot, and to numb... I scroll past hours and days, triggers and needs for a break, a meal, and/or even a breath.

"Take Care & Take Rest, as

The Revolution needs you after to

Rebuild the world..."

- @theoriginaldijah

          Looking back, my mother had always held her children while running towards the unknown for safety and peace - from capitals of Taiwan/Singapore/Malaysia then to the rural suburbs of white silence in 'Canada'. Yet maybe its also why I feel that I must come back to the collective pains for salvation - thus challenging the comforts of avoidance while constantly confronting settler-colonial privileges. This is not just about knowing people in situations anymore, it's about living among situations and witnessing suffering daily: rotting from the inside out eating meals only after seeing someone go through garbages for food... I wonder of when/how we humans had become so trashy while claiming to have class and with righteousness slowly digesting inside - eating each other's empathy as feasts like the lands we looted. It has taken me weeks of solitude with my impostorism to understand again the magic/pains of surviving through the in-betweens... I remember last summer when I was concerned with unemployment and unstable housing thus a sex worker then a survivor from encountering ra*e and assaults. I remember how it was other sex workers who have fed me, how it was other queer/trans femmes of colour who have supported me with funds and support. I remember how it was black women/femmes who taught me resistance and it was two-spirit/queer/trans indigenous folks who have taught me resilience and joy. I would not have known care and love as a storyteller and as an immigrant trans woman/femme without the communities still constantly hurting but giving... Thus now I continue listening from the back rows while supporting the front-lines during these difficult times demanding for social justice. Now that we know better, we must do/be better. Though this is what many of us have been preparing, studying, waiting for. It is an important note for all allies to know that no matter the contexts: we are guests upon arrival while our hosts are already tired.

          Moving into downtown and (trying to) moving on from a heartbreak - I am becoming tired of crying to sleep in melancholia only to wake from an ambulance praying/mourning myself back to sleep. I am exhausted of witnessing constant police patrol and officers harassing folks experiencing substance-withdraw or homelessness. It worries me to hear sirens and it angers me to see cop cars; I feel sick watching a "Queer-Eye" makeover episode for a person experiencing homelessness while knowing/seeing too many experiencing unstable housing on a daily. I'm tired of balancing in-between lines/circles/experiences of contrasting politics and priorities... I don't know how to feel while witnessing and accessing both lifestyles of privilege and survivals of marginalization. I am angry that I have "educated" peers who would tell me to report to the police after I've been ra*ed and asked what to do if their cars get stolen when we advocate for defunding the police/military. I am upset that many people can still wake up oblivious and go out with full safety/access; I am disappointed that most still search for comfort and individualistic joys with such ignorance as bliss, while others are at the front-lines and us as allies supporting and also reflecting on how we can/must do better... Yet the burdens of educating our (privileged) peers and deepening one's actioning allyship is no labours of those already fighting but ours still listening. And the most uncomfortable conversations just may be the ones in our classrooms, friend/peer-groups, families within homes and other private spheres of traditions. Though we should also be mindful of our capacities, triggers, and possibilities of facing violence while being marginalized allies as well... My mental health capacities have been at a new low and I am really trying to cope/survive with the suicidal ideations, internal doubts of worth, and self-harming/destructive tendencies, especially during these times of extra uncertainties. I feel both hopeful and hopeless, as Turtle Island (North America) may not afford a revolution with such majorities of white middle-class, but then isn't it the time to reimagine freedoms and elevating/expanding notions of organizing ? Through my weeks of internal spiral and patterned explorations on humanity and justice, I always come back to the poetics/politics of death, thus I know the answer has to be love... As it is empathy that will lead us to the light, no matter how hard the fight; and it is only through love that we bring light into life.

"... I have died so many times

So when I told you that loving you almost makes life worth it I was not joking. 

When I tell you that loving you almost makes me forget 

how much I hate myself, It is not poetry. 

Loving you is taking all of the love I could never give myself and putting it to good use. 

It is reminding myself that if someone can love a dying thing this way, 

can hold the Lazarus of my body and give thanks for the way it holds back -

if someone can kiss the scars administer the pills absorb the bad days and 

wake up smiling next to me, then I can try to breathe again...

Because self-love does not always come first. Or second. Or even ever. 

But your love be the guardrail on the edge 

be the drawers that hide all the sharp things 

be the body that carries my collapsed frame into bed 

be the flowers you bought; because even though 

they are dying too they still dance...

Love will not heal me, will not wipe my slate of my body clean - 

I will always be a woman of wounds of rope-mark neck and melted skin. 

Love will not heal me; but it will hold my hand if I ever heal myself and 

maybe teach me a joke that I can stay alive long enough to laugh at...

I love you,

enough to want to 

love myself too..."

- Nayo Jones: Healing

Community Resources/Actions/Reflections:

2020 Toronto Police Budget - Call For Action/Defunding Template

Justice for Regis: NOT ANOTHER BLACK LIFE

The answer to police violence is not 'reform'. It's defunding.

What public health experts want critics to know about why they support the protests

Journalist and writer Desmond Cole calls for Toronto Police Service to be defunded

So after we abolish prisons and policing...then what?: A Black Feminist Dialogue

Indigenous Youth Outreach

A Fund for Black-led Mental Health Supports

Men Who Love & Kill

(by Warsan Shire)

CW/TW: poetics/politics of death, murder, transphobia, sexual violence,

mentions of anti-black violence and police brutality...

          How is that love becomes one's drive/force to kill ? Perhaps because fear is part of love too, as "our men do not belong to us... Then the men we try to love, say we carry too much loss, wear too much black, are too heavy to be around, much too sad to love. Then they leave and we mourn them too. Is that what we’re here for? To sit at kitchen tables, counting on our fingers the ones who died, those who left and the others who were taken by the police, or by drugs, or by illness or by other women. It makes no sense. Look at your skin, her mouth, these lips, those eyes, my God, listen to that laugh. The only darkness we should allow into our lives is the night, and even then, we have the moon..." (Warsan Shire).

          I don't know how many little naps I've had to take to escape reality in the past few days. The amount of media witnessing/documenting/visualizing continuous trans deaths, anti-black murders, and cases of police brutalities, informations carrying the heaviness of such patterning melancholy, grief, and rage. Social media then becomes a violent daily reminder for the uncertainties of marginalized lives as well as the systems of marginalized deaths, even among uncertainties of global health... I started writing this piece to heal through understanding the pains/intersections of trans and femme violence/deaths, and how femininities have been raised/taught to love/protect masculinities that often hurt us. The relations between violence, cis-masculinity, and trans-femininity has been of betrayal for the notions that we as penis/ego-holders choosing paths of softness instead... Yet it is through grace and studying violence for freedom, that I know we must continue to challenge masculinities while embracing/caring for men and folks with identities that are masculine-centered. Especially through the years of witnessing both cis and trans men (re/un)learning toxic/hyper-masculinities, often which is even more challenge/of survival burdens for racialized/migrant men... It's been a critique brewing within, as even though I joke about loving men/masculinity as an unfortunate event from the experiences of ra*e and violence, the studies/advocacy of feminist movements have often left out the work of healing collectively across genders thus the rehabilitations of toxic/hyper-masculinities. We must learn from the legacies of native/black feminism as #BlackLivesMatter too is a social movement with many feminine organizers as main leaderships, often advocating for masculine narratives of experiencing violence (centered in mass media). It brings the attention to the silence surrounding deaths of black/indigenous women/femmes as well...

          As a non-black individual: the pains of anti-black violence is not mine, even though I have felt by witnessing/living/understanding the world around me, the violences against people I love, and the police harassments and physical/sexual assaults from positionalities of being trans, racialized, feminine, a sex worker from past survival circumstances... My sympathy falls on the spectrum of colonial-constructions for racialization and colourist violence, and I (re/un)learn my allyhood daily by reminding myself that I will never be able empathize without references to other intersecting measures of experiencing violences nor will I ever be able to understand/feel the mourning of black families/friends/loved ones. Thus as much as pain allows us to unite narratives through support and solidarity, I believe in the compassionate politics of (re/un)learning absence as an ally: not absence as ignorance/denial/inaction, but absence as in knowing when to shut up or leave, to not take up space when you're only a guest to this narrative of feeling/learning. It is understanding that even with a common enemy, that support is also by simply offering space to grief/heal, even if it's in private/silence... Thus again from legacies of how "in the Black Panthers’ paper Huey Newton (August 1970) wrote 'A letter to the Revolutionary Brothers and Sisters about Women’s Liberation and Gay Liberation' arguing that they were fellow revolutionary movements and pledging the Panthers to support gay liberation": It is the responsibilities of allyhood to demand for justice, to support and show up in solidarity along front-line activists as well as healers.

"The future belongs to those who prepare for it today." - Malcolm X (1962)

          I think over the years of surviving/studying violence as well as loving masculinities that I become a (re)searcher/fighter for softness. And I believe that in order to achieve true gender liberation/peace/equity, we must work with masculinities through compassionate/empathy politics, collective (re)learning of emotional intelligence and notions of strength, as well as allowing masculinities to rehabilitate in their own organicalities (as I am only a feminine essence even if educational to toxic/hyper-masculinities)... Like the ways trans/awakening women/femmes rebirth femininities: it is for masculine-centered folks to finalize/actualize their glories in softness as well. Thus how I observe/study my navigation/survival with men/masculinities too, in many ways I find hyper-masculine men/masculinities to yearn for a safe space to embrace/express softness, as they are surviving through the violence of patriarchy too, especially racialized men under colonial-white-supremacy. My experiences with cis-white men have been mostly cases of asian/trans-fetishizing chasers and creepy old men who wants a young toy to keep, or an insecure man wanting a girl that's "different" for something "new". I found that many cis-white men (I've encountered with) feel comfortable and validated (or on the toxic ends of the spectrum: entitled) with their yearn for care and acceptance of difference, though often socialized as the "nice guys", I still find traces of manipulation or denials of privilege/entitlement in the courtships that are never in my best interests... The loving/killing/lusting of intersex/trans/non-binary folks is not generally a racial issue but one gendered, often concerning the violences of cis/toxic/hyper-masculinity. Yet the racialization of masculinities and the layers of violence as survival makes it much of a racial issue too while we think for the queer/2-Spirit/trans Black/Indigenous folks, who have always been at the forefronts of community advocacy no matter if feminine/masculine-centered, polygendered, genderly-fluid, or communicated/expressed to be agendered... I humbly navigate through layers of socio-political violences to understand pain and melancholia, hoping to (re/un)learn grief for healing and to contribute softness as an ally/friend, a flower/lover, and/or a sister/mother/daughter.

          As grief starts the journey of healing: the first lesson to freedom. In "Black Queer Studies, Freedom, and Other Human Possibilities" with reference to Marlon Rigg’s works: “His homopoetics is importantly a different embodiment, one that speaks its pain as potential freedom. In that moment, Riggs highlights how our lives can make no sense outside of his coming death, the collective deaths of Riggs, Joe Beam, Hemphill, and especially Audre Lorde—the foundations of a black queer studies—demand to think desire and politics in the present as a way of making reparation with ‘our dead behind us.’ Such reparation allows for a life that can be lived with a freedom not yet felt, but one genuinely yearned for. Freedom as a way toward new ways of being human in the present, ways of being human in which black life preceded black death and is continually fashioned by death even before its birth—our embodiment takes place in the context of reckoning with life-death-world experience” (Walcott 2013)...

          And after recent viral cases of black/trans murders in the Americas with public medias advocating justices for Tony Mcdade, Regis Korchiniski, George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and Nina Pop... Not to mention trans latina/xs' survival as Layla Peláez and Serena Angelique Velázquez murdered in Puerto Rico, and Jesusa known locally as Chucha found recently beheaded in Mexico, as well as the other continuing deaths globally/transnationally - no matter documented/visible/recognized or not. I can only write of grief now after reflecting on freedom, and as Judith Butler reminds us: "All these lost lives are grievable, which means that they are lives worthy of acknowledgment, equal in value to every other life, a value that cannot be calculated" (2020)... Often times I see trans-feminine faces online with a sense of familiarity, they become my sisters, maybe from the relations of survival or maybe just my brain playing tricks after seeing reposts after reposts, yet thus I understand/feel better/deeper of the notions and discourses described in "Black Queer Studies, Freedom, and Other Human Possibilities". As a trans woman of colour with our global life-expectancy of 35 years old, it becomes more than poetry reading the words “our dead behind us” while feeling/carrying the weight of my mothers/sisters/femmes/siblings; from the missing and murdered Indigenous folks, the violence against our brothers, to the often trafficked and sexually abused racialized intersex/trans sex workers - I grief in melancholia with a collective promise in solidarity: navigating/fighting/learning/teaching for those alongisde/after us... However, its still important to respect/honour difference even when bridging identities/experiences and aligning politics in the name of intersectionality/unity; my community-understandings/actions in solidarity must emerge from the reflections/critiques against the violence/solitude of embodying settler-colonialism. And though understanding such intersections of violence through empathizing experiences of commonality, it is to note of trans-misogynoir as black trans women/femme are still the most targeted as subjects of murder/homicide while native/black cis/trans-men continue to die from police brutalities and state violences...

          So healing through love: How do we begin ? Other than the continuing lessons of allyhood and actionable solidarity, I pray we rest, especially in ever so softness for the black folks retraumatized. With a softer essence as a fighter for love, it is only in love's full glory that we demand for justice, even if it means no peace... Resonating with Murther Luther King Junior's reminder of how "a riot is the language of the unheard" (1965), it is importantly necessary to recognize/embrace the heavy histories and emotions in the awakening from painful losses. May we find healing slowly, gently, and gloriously through support/solidarity, while our community front-liners and allies demand for and organize towards justice fiercely... Sending love and light to all especially those often caring for others - the activists/organizers/healers/care-takers/lovers during this time.

Community Resources/Actions:
Anti-Racism Resources
MINNESOTA FREEDOM FUND
Justice For Regis
Justice For Tony McDade

Moving In & On

("Solitude" by Warsan Shire)

"God, my alone feels so good, but lately I’ve craving something more, something deeper

I want love. But not just any kind of Love,
no, I want a love so deep it’d make the ocean jealous.

But I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude...

You must love me for everything I’m worth,

and then some..."

          Why loving has been so painful, like embracing a rainbow only to be left with the wind ? Maybe love will always be painful for "I'm lonely so I do lonely things"; Maybe love will always be bitter when I don't love myself thus a bittersweet lesson of self-preservation... Then "I was still lonely so I did even lonelier things," and "I had to leave [because] I felt lonely when he held me..." Maybe I wasn't ready for love, but perhaps the lesson also had its timing. I remembered saying I would never sleepover at a mans, and funny how now I still cry myself longing to be held: "Forgive me, I was lonely so I chose you. I'm a lover without a lover; I'm lovely and lonely"... Now that I have tasted and felt love, I still fear myself in love ironically when love has been what's keeping me alive as well. The truth is that I'm afraid of my solitude, but I also know that without loving myself first by example, the world will never learn to carry my heavy heart... However, sometimes I wonder if maybe the lesson's never to teach the world but to just practice the art of self-love, to not just write poetry but to actually believe that "I belong deeply to myself" ("34 Excuses For Why We Failed at Love" by Warsan Shire).

          I'm afraid of moving on; I'm afraid of not being loved, I'm afraid of not loving enough, I'm afraid of not being enough... I pray for vulnerability to lead me onto paths of freedom, I meditate on the nights of feeling hopeless and I honour the rivers I've cried to survive. Yet I must do better, I have to... Instead of crying and holding myself through darkness, the lesson is perhaps to love myself through it, to embrace myself no matter the worth. As like the moon, we don't always feel full but we are still loved and deserving of light, no matter the phase...

          I'm also afraid of moving in, as I'm moving into the city for June, finally, but still during a pandemic. I always make decisions my mother questions, but I tell myself that the uncertainties of others only make my mission more deeply personal. I'm not to be understood by reasons, but to be by feelings. I know I make decisions to constantly challenge my comfort zones, almost as if I don't allow myself to have comfort zones... Virgo in both Sun & Moon: being good is not/never good enough; there is always a work in progress. Maybe it's positive to obsess over self-betterment and improvement, as my processes so far have been just studying/working as worth and rotting slowly at home... I need change, close to community, and compassion. I need a room above earth, I need sunlight, I need to start planting and growing the gardens I have been planning. I want a new room and bed, a new start, a new chapter. And I wish this time I know it's not to run away but to resettle/refocus/relearn of loving my own solitude, in all phases again...

          What do I deserve ? Why does a flower deserve to bloom ? ... I'm afraid of not being happier after I've moved aboveground, but isn't it unfair ? I know happiness to be one's responsibility but for me it has only felt like a burden. Maybe I'm getting too comfortable in my sadness, thus unsafe in solitude... The lesson of this Spring/Summer becomes a soft reminder, of patience and healing as I start to plant/water my garden within. I come to slowly realize that it is never too late for a wilting houseplant, to dream/plan of love, freedom, and light.

"... Remember that I want to be loved as deep as the ocean, but 

Remember that I am like the ocean -

I can slip through your fingers, but manage to hold up an army of ships

Kiss me, hold me, love me, but tell me if you’re not up for it...

I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude"

- "Solitude" by Warsan Shire

My First Man/Love/Relationship

("For Women Who Are 'Difficult' to Love" by Warsan Shire)

          I hesitate with the idea of having someone close and intimate. I'm scared to rot comfortably in someone's comforts, to make a home out of human desperate for care... Yet it really comes when you least expect it: the pains of loving and the pains of loneliness meet me here at the intersections of both memories and imagination. I am thankful, for those who have helped given me lessons/stories of love in my life, even if it is through crying then understanding... I'm also humbled by loving/being loved, as I will always have more to give from within for those too concerned/occupied with survival to fill in substance, to love/be loved fully. And yet I still apologize for my trial-and-error in loving myself deeper thus caring for others better, as I shall then continue to (re/un)learn through loving beyond.

Me: "... but you're not a criminal."

Him: "baby... I'm a Black man in America"

          I remember our first night together last August: cuddling/sleeping naked, kissing and sharing stories of our past, holding each other tighter... No sex, even though he had already made me feel so safe in his arms, he knew of a soft night was what I needed. It was just weeks after I was ra*ed, and it wasn't the first time encountering a man of complicated pasts either. A rough intellect I would say, troubled with memories of societal neglect that still haunts him until today. And not the first time I have people who I care about having experiences of street violence, financial/housing instability, childhood traumas...etc but as lovers I felt like it began as trauma-bonding/trading/sharing, and I was scared of a toxic attachment... like between my parents.

          About 8 months of learning each other's touch: he shared knowledges of herbal/crystal meditation/healing, I shared poems and political imaginations, continuing conversations about both the intersections and differences of black/trans lives, and how our sexualities are impacted by society. I remember fighting into 3AM about the usage/violence of fetishization and porn productions, but I also remember him holding me doing breathing exercises at 5AM when I shook with flashbacks and panic attacks... He is older, his economic ambitions remind me of my father and his brothers, his aggression reminds me of men and men before but he is different: he is goofy/funny, always trying to make me smile, he's smart and secretly soft deep inside - only when no one else is around... I asked him often about me not feeling prioritized/cared-for and why he even loves me, he would asked me why I can't just be more patient and "chill". Women/femmes spend their lives waiting for loved ones, and maybe selfish but I can not wait for change nor peace, not here at "home". He overworks and hustles hard on wheels around the city, and though unrelated but I hate how he never uses a wallet so his things are just everywhere in his pockets/bag. I don't know why I encounter and entertain so many deliverymen, both of goods and drivers of people... It's a lot to unpack, and as a trans woman/femme of colour who have very limited subjects of interests/attraction after eliminating tranny-chasers of fetishization, old (and mostly white) sugar daddies, and "discreet" married men, I find myself left with also a margins of men and masculine folks of complex backgrounds/stories. I dislike patterns of heteronormativity in my connections of intimacy, and I really am open to more possibilities beyond cis-men, especially when trans-masculine folks are sexy in the city and some butch woman/femmes have gotten me more open minded about my own romantic attractions as well... Yet as long as I am with a cisgender man, there becomes layers of socialized-heteronormativity and internalized-homophobia to unpack (yes even with queer men too), especially in a positionality of a trans woman without bottom surgery and for if/when the connection ever becomes sexual (even though most are already lustful due to the fetishizing reality of transhood after colonialization, often even more desired without bottom surgery for the fantasy of a secret cock).

          I started to be aware of my connections/relationships/encounters with racialized cis-men and their stories/struggles, especially when I also push to have more personal/emotional conversations. Often I find cis-men to open up not only because I try my best to create a safe space but also because perhaps their time with a trans woman/femme becomes an escape from the burdens of cis-heteronormative hyper-masculinities, especially as racialized cis-men, migrants, as black men... Their stories struggling with masculinity is not mine to ever share or use as public analysis, but I dare to be truthful to the narratives I've encountered/involved with as so many trans mothers and sisters have been hurt/killed from just loving cis-men, waiting for masculinities to (re/un)learn and change. Maybe a selfish project of coping with past sexual violence, maybe desperate for stories/evidence of humanization/empathy or an allyship over sadness/loneliness/survival... I find my attraction towards trauma not a romantic issue with relational subjects while definitely involving and impacting intimate relationships, but as a toxicity deeply rooted in my survival methodologies navigating self-love and stupid poetic-hopeless-romantic self. Thus really, I thought I would not fall in love just yet... til I do, hard.

Him: "don't worry, I'm eating right now... consuming love from you."

          He supported me with herbs and groceries, and I would support him financially and with accessibility here and there also. The heaviness of such love made me grow cold, and I began to realize how loving/caring words and company won't feed a person or pay one's debt. Nor could any amount of reassurance can settle my mind when the people I care about are hungry/unsafe. I was exhausted/lonely for waiting: worried daily wondering if he's safe on the road, if he has eaten, and if he has slept enough, etc. Such relationship has confronted me with harsh truths of societal/economic as determination of priority... How can I love and convince a person to pause/breathe when capitalism chases them day and night ? What is my care and allowance of access worth to their survival and how can we do better, for each other and together ? Like the ways me and my sisters support each other, like the ways the community feeds me with both resources and teachings, and like the ways we can continue loving/caring for each other: I knew we had to become partners/allies/friends, anything but lovers...

"I know my love,

It's forgiving

It's gentle

It's long-suffering

It's tucking away my tears and listening to

your reasons for hurting me

It's piecing together your childhood trauma

and feeling sympathy for the darkness you still carry

My love will remove the light from my eyes

to find beauty in all your dark places 

My love is deep and beautiful and sacred...

But my love

My love no longer lives in the hands of those who abuse it

My love belongs to me."

- Aschel St Ville (@sabrinajpoetry)

          I realize now that I must not thank him for meeting after I was ra*ed but to thank myself... However, I do thank him for holding me holier and wiping my tears away, reminding me that while I am searching for softness in others, that softness is already in me too... My first relationship didn't have room for romance, no time to pause, always on the go, and maybe selfishly I wanted superficiality like dates of youth simple pleasures. Somewhere on the dance floor of marginalization we found each other, holding onto one another in times of need but isn't love more than survival ? Yet in explaining my decision to break-up in the simplest way is the struggle between attraction and compatibility. Especially when he's a virgo too... where he is growing a mountain and I'm planting a garden, thus friendship/partnership is what I've proposed. He is wiser and much more understanding, it has been hard to move on from my feelings for him while still keeping in touch and caring closely. I can't help but wonder if it's because he needs my resources too, yet it's unfair that I often in analysis question my attraction to him as care after violent circumstances, and his attraction to me as accessibility... The emotions of/from such connection have been strong but unstable, and I am still learning to process/cope without turning too cold/analytical/cynical.

Him: "babe I'm a dreamer not a thief."

I know baby, I know...

          He has always been a dreamer for freedom as I am for love. I will miss us sharing lessons of life/culture/history with each other through intimacy, yet someday maybe again, when we're better and more stable. I will always remember and miss waking up to him smoking a joint and holding me close, him making jerk-chicken quesadillas for brunch, and him gone to the store for juice. He is the first man who has taught me of truly loving/being loved, and he was open to change/grew/blossomed so much along the way as well... I know we will continue supporting each other and navigate our feelings and circumstances, but I know I need a break from romantic intimacy and committed relationships for now. It breaks my heart but he also said that one day I'm going to find someone "softer, more relaxed, and not pressured from goals like an animal"... We didn't go to the mall nor markets/festivals because crowds and families could be triggers; we didn't do valentine's day because he wanted/needed to work. Yet I was understanding while constantly checking my privileges as well; I have nothing but gratitude as we did make it our little universe even just spending time inside smoking and ordering in take-out (with only occasional trips to nature). We were my first love story and I will always treasure the memories of us as lovers while imagining/practicing for love/care beyond...

My first love story: where

A flower sends her kisses to

A mountain with petals in the wind,

And the mountain embracing her 

with dancing leaves flowing from streams

...

It ends beyond attraction and compatibility

in support and solidarity:

We become family,

We build community,

We (re/un)learn to love better -

A breakup or wakeup, for

An ending is but another start

...

We wake up today and tomorrow:

Loving ever so softer, for

Those after us and to the world/beyond

Happy Birthday (Poem)

I see you,

in the wild daisies blooming under the summer sun.

I hear you,

in the soft ukulele strings played at a café open mic.

I smell you,

in the old polkadot dress that you've given me as a piece of your promise...

Your promise, of a friendship.

Your promise, of a forever.

Your promise, of a sisterhood.

Our promises become memories,

but through the bitter-sweet,

I'll always remember you.

I'll remember you...

by slowing down my footsteps, to admire the blooming daisies,

to smile under the warm summer sunshine.

I'll remember you...

by closing my eyes when I hear the sweet indie melodies
while holding my own broken body still trying to heal, still trying to love.

I'll remember you...

by wearing the colours that you have brought out from deep within,

knowing that I am, "the most beautiful girl" someone has ever seen.

While time passes, the promises between us rust violently,

the words between us blur uncontrollably,

but may our memories fade quietly, gently, and kindly...

You and I,

will forever be the softest Poetry I've come to know...

My Virginity... ?

Content Warning: Sexual Explicit Language

          I'm just a Sexually-Liberated Woman with a Dick having a dilemma...

          So remember that I shared with y'all on how I sucked my first cock when I was in Montreal, Quebec for a family weekend using Grindr ? Well, update: I'm no longer on Grindr, but I am on OkCupid and Tinder. Now, I did meet up with several guys in the past few months and have had my first kiss as well ! I love a good make-out session, one of my favourites on the menu ! And listen to this, I did let a guy try to put the tip of his penis in my butt while we were hanging out/hooking up at his place, but it didn't go anywhere. He didn't have actual lube and I was too anxious. It hurts like a motherfu*ker !!! Y'all, anal sex is no joke. Not only do I need to prepare myself physically, but also mentally and emotionally as well. So yeah don't worry, I'm still a "virgin" ! I have not yet had full-on penetrative sex y'all, calm down. Though let's be honest here, I'll probably lose my "virginity" this summer before going to university.

          A part of me is resisting because as some of you may know, I'm actually a hopeless romantic ! I love romance, I love kisses, cuddles, and all the cutesy little things, but I've also kind of given up... See, I was even gonna wait to have my first kiss with someone who'll make it all special and "life-changing". But now I feel like I might even lose my "virginity" to a hookup ?! It feels wrong but also... "virginity" isn't a real physical thing, it's a social construct. And I'm a horny sexually-liberated girl who just need some dicks ! Seriously, it's an honest struggle for me... And as sexually-driven and liberated I feel, there's still gonna be a part of me that's a little disappointed with myself for giving up on romance, on "love" if we're dissecting it into a battle between "love" and "lust".

          I don't want to give up, I want to believe that I deserve romance, cute dates, kisses and cuddles...etc. It's just difficult being in a small town with boys and men not seeing me as a "real woman", treating transgender girls as a kinky fetish, that somehow we're not "dateable" just because we're not cisgender. I would talk to guys who's all romantic and flirty, asking me out on dates, but the second he learns that I'm transgender, now I'm just "cute enough" to "chill with"... It's so difficult to realize that I deserve more when all the attention I've been given is purely lustful and sexual, sometimes even in degrading ways. Maybe I'm just not pretty enough to date ? Is it because I'm plus-sized ? No, No, Nooo ! I will no longer allow my mistreatments to determine my self-worth. I shall remind myself that I deserve love, I deserve positive attention, that I, as a fat Transgender Woman of Colour deserve Romance !!!

          Also, the fact that even if I am sexually-liberated, the society and the system that we live under is not gonna let me have control or be as powerful as men. I will need to empower myself and know what I want, then fight for it. #Resist !

Daddy Issues II.

          In Part I, I explored my personal "Daddy Issues" recalling my complicated relationship with my father. Yet we have not talked about how our "Daddy Issues" may affect our relationships with men. The whole idea of this Father Complex and the complicated connections we have with our father archetypes is suppose to result in an unconscious mindset and behavioural impact when we interact with the other men around us.

          Yes, I do have Daddy Issues as we've discussed from Part I, and I'm weirdly okay with sexualizing the father archetype. While it's considered "weird" and "abnormal", we see it in the media, and it's actually fairly common to sexualize the parental archetypes. (ex. Sugar Daddies/Mommies and Sugar Babies...etc.) I can go on and on about this with Freud's psychological theories, but I won't. You can all do some researching if you're interested, or take a psychology course. Is my fascination with older men and sexualization of the father archetypes a result of my father's absence ? Why would I rather date and go for older men ?

          I can't speak on behalf of the LGBTQ+ community, yet I do personally know of many queer and trans teens who do actively look for older partners (especially older men), meaning that I'm not a rare exceptions ? Yet why ?! My theory is that we as queer and trans youths have a very difficult time finding a male interest because of toxic masculinity and society's standards of what manhood should be like. Us teenagers are still developing an identity, we all want to fit in, making it even harder for youth males to step out of the traditionary binary system. So us queer and trans teens think that we just need more mature men, men who can and will understand, who can take care of us...etc. After all, we're tired, we're exhausted from trying to survive in this society while still being proud and visible of our identities. Now, there is a danger to this theory, as we often are vulnerable targets of assault when we seek for older interests both sexually and romantically, creating even more Daddy Issues...

          Is there an end to this ? Is there a way we can drop these baggages from our childhood ? Well, psychologically speaking, childhood traumas are there to stay. But we can move on and be better even if impacted negatively from these events. Similarly to counselling and therapy, we need to identify and work through the cause and effect of our traumas, so we can be more consciously aware of our behaviours and thoughts.

Le Sexe Oral

          Last week, we had a long weekend and my family and I went on a road trip to Ottawa and Montreal. And for those who don't know, I'm on Grindr. Grindr is like "Gay Tinder", but it's really just open for all queer people with penises. As a Transgender female, there are Straight men, Bisexual men, and Pansexual men on this app who would be interested in me and still respect me as a woman. So... I was alone in a Starbucks in downtown Montreal on the last night of my trip, and I met up with a guy who messaged me on Grindr. He was the only man that messaged me that weekend who could actually carry a normal conversation, who didn't greet me with a dick pic, and didn't ask for nudes. Obviously though, it's meant to be a hookup app, so after we met up and hung out, I sucked his cock. So that's it, my first oral sex experience, just like that. It was also my first Grindr meetup, turns out it's his as well.

          It was fabulous, more salty and warm than I expected. He said that I did amazing for my first time, so good that he didn't believe it was my first. His legs were tingling for awhile afterwards lol. I think it's because I have a penis, so I feel like I would know how to please one better. Anyway, it just happened, like that. I'm happy it happened and he was a great guy, polite, respectful, and consensual. Now I've been on Grindr for almost a month now, but I've yet to actually hookup, the truth is, I'm scared. I'm afraid not only because I'm not experienced, but because I know that I'm very emotional and romantic. Am I really able to experience sex without any attachments ? What if I start having feelings with someone who clearly just want a hookup ? It feels like I can only choose between sex and romance, even though I know that's not true. I've been a hopeless romantic for my whole life now, having crushes and looking for a relationship, am I really able to abandon that need to just experience sex as it is ? I feel like no matter how much I hide it, I'll always end up wanting something more, something most people aren't looking for on Grindr.

          I feel more confident and relieved about my sexual identity, and I am happy that I had such experience. Yet again, I know I want something more, something better. People say that sex isn't a big deal, and I know that our society has romanticized the concept of "virginity" to the point where it's harmful, causing slut shaming...etc. Well, it happened. Am I going to stay on the app, I think so, but I will ask for more, maybe a date before I suck another dick ? Or if I really just need a relief from my teenage horniness, I know that a hookup is always possible. *Wink*

          P.S. Stay Safe, Have Fun, and Be Respectful !

          Consent isn't Sexy, it's a Basic Fundamental Virtue. 

Boys. Boys. Boys.

          I have been just too sad with my Blog pieces lately, let's talk about something light ! Something I haven't wrote about in awhile, Boys. It's not that I'm too sad to think about Boys, but honestly I haven't had a crush ever since I think the beginning of summer really. I think that I've just accepted that high school boys aren't worth it and that I need to focus on more important stuff, like working on myself, spending time with my friends, and being an activist.

          Do I want love ? Of course, and if there comes a chance to be in a relationship right now, I would take it. And I don't mean to criticize teenage boys, but I've yet to find a lot of them that's mature enough to really see me as a woman and respect my community. Can I date an anti-feminist ? No. Not after what I've been fighting for and everything I go through as a Transgender female. And that's one of my biggest fear, is to fall in love with someone that's scared. Someone who is ashamed of dating me, a girl with a dick. Someone who is not brave enough to fight alongside with me, who still needs time to grow and be educated. It'll be painful, and it's difficult to find a boy who will do that for us part of the community in high school. 

          Because of my choice in advocating myself for the community, I can't hide it. I hear stories of other transgender females going on dates not letting the others know about their past, and about their bodies. And let's be honest here, I don't think I'll be successful if I do that, I don't think I pass enough. It's scary, to like people, to fall in love with people as Trans individuals. People fail to see that, to understand that we'll always have to be more careful, more hesitant, and we'll always be feeling more vulnerable and insecure. Before we even get rejected, we'll already have felt that rejection, from society, from other men, from ourselves...

         Anyway, there's this boy I'm starting to find very attractive (both physically and personality wise). No biggie, just hope that it won't develop into another hopeless crush. Ugh. Feelings ! Wish I can just lock them up sometimes. Because chances are, nothing will happen anyway. Life's just... rough. Anyway yeah, that's all I guess, it's just Boys.

Love Clinic 6.0

          You swung me into my dreams,

and you sang the lullabies.

          Your whispers...

          You gently tuck me in,

into the bed of roses that you've planted.

          Your kisses...

          You. Me. Us.

We're imperfect, we're ugly. Yet us together, it was perfect, it was beautiful.

Flowers bloom, and we were happy.

          What happened ?

          Love 601 : Roses with Thorns.

          Roses grow, and Roses die. The flower shed, but the thorns remains. We are too young, we don't know how to love. Romance just isn't realistic. You're not mature enough darling. You promised roses, but all they are left, are the thorns, stabbing into my skin. You held me, whispered. You left, you've escaped, and all I have are memories. It's not fair. It's not...

          Break Up 601 : Get Over It, Move On.

          How can we move on ? And just get over it ? Does it mean nothing ? Should it mean nothing ? Why did we even bother ? What am I suppose to do now ? Sometimes, we can't move on, we can only bury. We want to bury it, until we forget, until we forgive. It'll take time, and we're making progress. Step by step, day by day, we're just getting stronger. We can do this.

A Word About... Love.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

1 Corinthians 13 : 4-8

          Many religions, and many people too even without a religious belief, believes in love. A love that's beautiful, magical, and unconditional.

          
          See, that verse from the Bible, is my favorite verse out of the entire Bible. Why ? Because I don't believe a single word of it. Again, not trying to criticize Christianity and it's beliefs, I'm just trying to make a point. I don't necessarily believe that there's a God, but I know that a humane love is not a perfect love. That's not love is like, that's what we want it to be like, that's what all humans wish to be like, perfection. And it's part of why Christianity works so well, it's whole belief system is surrounding the concept of a God, a divining love. Love is already a concept that we humans can't really grasp, and believing that there's a higher power which controls and defines the love, the perfection we all crave for, now that's a strong belief, that not only provides us security and control, but also hope, resulting in joy and a purpose in life.

          Personally, I don't think of love as an emotion. When we say that we love someone or something, I mostly just see it as a figure of speech. Love is a base, a base for our emotions, actions, and reactions to the world around us. It won't be just positive, it's not perfect, it's not easy, and it's not a happily ever after. It is a base of how and where our emotions will steam from. Now, if love is only a base, a concept, a mindset to let our actions and emotions grow from. Then, I also believe that love is a social construct. A concept, created by us humans. Anyway, not gonna go into that today, I still need to do some more reading and thinking, enough Philosophy for today.

          I choose not to believe in a magical, powerful, and all mighty love. I don't expect love to be that easy, that comfortable, and that perfect. I expect and understand that we humans can be angry, sad, happy, envy, hurt, guilty, ashamed, caring, generous, kind, hopeful, strong, weak...etc. All of those things, and they all can be a result of love. We love, because we care. We aren't perfect, and love isn't either. And that's okay.

          I don't Love,
          I just feel with Love.

Love Clinic 5.0

          I've always found it interesting to think of the fact that it needs both individual to bring a relationship to life, yet it'll only take one to end it... Love is an ocean, that drowns us all. Losing control, letting the waves of emotions swarm us in and out, in and out... again, again, and again. There's no escape.

          Love 501 : Sometimes Love's just Not Enough...

          We're so fixed on the idea of love: the eternal love, and the unconditional love. Yet sometimes, it's not forever, it's not pretty, nor is it unconditional. And that's the thing about love, it drowns us in and make us forget about reality. But then just when you're finally happy and at peace, a wave comes and slams you into a rock, setting you back into the harsh reality. Love is cruel, and painful. I've always known, nothing can be that beautiful. Sometimes, love is just not enough, not enough to be happy. But as human beings, we'll be forever on the quest of finding love, and longing for that love. We'll get better, and heal. Then, we'll find the courage to trust the ocean again, to walk our way into the cool, peaceful water, relaxing ourselves, and hoping, and dreaming for the love story we've been waiting for. That's life.

          Break Up 501 : Gone.

          It's over, it's really over. Is it really ? That's it ? But how ? Why ? Why me ?

He/She is gone. The answers are too gone. Break Ups can leave us, wondering, and thinking, for days and nights. But we will never really know, or will we truly understand, because we still love. It's not over for us, so we can sometimes never understand why or how it is for them. We can just sit here, and question ourselves, question reality, question the memories, and question the feelings. It's painful, it's difficult, and it feels like the end. But life moves on, and you know you have to as well. All you need to do, is survive today, and tomorrow, survive another day. All you need to do, is get yourselves through the day. That's strong enough, that's brave enough, that's enough for now. You, are enough. You, will get better, and you'll be okay. Everything will be okay.

Love Clinic 4.0 - Crushes

          Crushes. (countable noun.) - an informal feeling of love or admiration for someone, often someone you know you can not have a relationship with.

          We all have crushes, and we can't really control them. We are attracted to certain people, and sometimes no matter how much we repress those feelings, we know deep down, that we want them. It's fascinating how little we can know about our crushes, yet still developing these complicated, beautiful feelings for them. It's the attractions to their smallest details, that makes it even harder for us to stop. It's a fantasy. It truly is, because we forget, we forget the possibilities of their flaws, faults, and mistakes. We are blinded by our feelings, and we no longer see them just as another human being. It's a pre-stage of love I would say, shallow, cheap, and fiction.

          Love 401 - Crushes : Grow Up !

          Most crushes don't get the chance to blossom into a relationship, and when it does, it grows and matures. We have to actually get to know the person, and learn about their flaws. That's how love grows. And we can never have a meaningful relationship unless we grow up, and stop letting our fantasies blind our sense of logic. We need to have the desire to want to know about that person. We need to sometimes turn off our imagination, to set ourselves back into reality, with that person.

Love Clinic 3.0

          Sometimes in love, there isn't always justice. The talk of fairness is complicated, and should never be discussed to get the other person to treat you better. Love isn't business, the only fairness that you need to think about here, is within yourself. Are you being fair to yourself ? Are you being fair to him/her/they ? Are you being fair to your relationship ?

          When in a relationship, we often can feel like we're not being treated fairly. Yet really, are we being fair ourselves ? Sometimes we give so much, and expect the same. But it's not fair to ourselves that we're giving so much, why are we doing this ? We love, and we want to be loved. Though we need to understand, that when we're in this mindset, love becomes an exchange, that's damaging, and exhausting. And adding all these pressure onto ourselves isn't fair to us either. Also, are we maybe expecting a little too much ? Can we try to understand the other person's love a little more ? How are they expressing their love, that's somehow different or not enough ? When we start to ask ourselves these questions, the problems become clearer, and we now know how to have a healthy conversation about how we can move forward with our relationship. 

          Lastly, are we being fair to our relationships ? Yes, of course we want to bring what we have to the next level, we want to have a even more meaningful relationship. But are we ready ? We need to understand, it takes time, and it really takes two. Stop making yourself do all the work, and expecting to see a difference. The key, is always communication.

          Love 301 : The True Justice in love, is to Listen, Appreciate, and Understand.

          Communication is very important yes, but what we want out of that isn't just blabbing your feelings to each other. We also want to listen, appreciate, and understand. We listen to appreciate, and we appreciate to understand. It's not always about how much we love, it's about the way we love. We all express our love differently, and differences are common in relationships. Some can be scared of differences, but really, have a little faith. Work it out.

          Break Up 301 : Don't Play The Waiting Game.

          I think that sometimes taking a break can be a good idea, though it really depends on the couple. I really do believe that we need to know who we are and what we want before having a healthy and loving relationship. But in all seriousness, don't play the waiting game. You can wait for the person of your dreams come into your life and love you, but don't wait for a person that's already in your life to love you back. It's psychologically damaging, and not fair to you. Unless you want to, they should have no place to tell you to wait. Because love, does not wait.