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...

Flowers In The Shade...

          I came "home" again this weekend, for pubic speaking/activism work, but also for my official high school commencement/graduation ceremony. I was scared, afraid that I won't be able to handle being here, but I've been coping. I'm doing alright, yet still emotional and at times unstable... Feeling like flowers in the shade, desperate for sunlight, struggling to breathe and survive.

          Being back in this place, especially at a high school event, having to see everyone, brings back unsettling memories. I couldn't help but to think of all that has happened... Friendships ending, falling out, breaking apart. I confess, I'm not innocent, I know I contributed to the tensions and conflict, and even though I've always focused heavily on my feelings and my perspectives, I don't think that I have been excusing any of my actions. The fact that I've lost most of my friends and have gotten so much backlash is me being held accountable, yet when is enough enough ? I agree, that I wasn't and am not the best friend that I can be, I still have a lot to learn and a lot of self-reflections to do. I've been and am still trying to learn how to love, yet that's all I've done, all I did was try to love. People can be so merciless when it comes to antagonizing me and my actions...

          The more I'm learning about power and protest in University, studying about the ways of advocacy and anti-oppression, the more I know that I should not regret most of the things that I did. I was harsh, but I attempted to destroy a systematic-power dynamics in between the group of friends, and of course people got defensive and took things personally and out of context. From the things said and done behind my back, there's a lot of misunderstandings and misinterpretations, but at this point I'm just tired of explaining myself and trying to protect others' feelings while ignoring my own pains and traumas. Some people aren't gonna get it, and some will say, why should friendships become something so political ? Yet it is, all relationships are, especially when there's an unbalanced power dynamic, and as a transgender woman of colour, I'm just trying to survive. I'm just trying to fight for my power. Does that make me a bad person ? For just trying to survive, and love ? And I know that I can be toxic at times, with my mental health affecting my relationships, yet do I not deserve to be loved, or forgiven ?

          I was so emotionally-unstable the last time I came back, unable to handle being back into a space with such upsetting memories. With my bed as an example, it's difficult for me to go back into a bed where I remembered not being able to get out of, being reminded of the ways I've cried myself to sleep and not having the energy and courage to face the world. Yet, I have to understand that I'm no longer trapped, and I'm no longer the same person that I used to be. I have gone way far and beyond, I have survived and conquered. I am better, stronger, and I am resilient.

          I'll always have nothing but love for those who have left me, I want to send nothing but blessings and positive vibes for their futures without my presence. Furthermore, I am so grateful and blessed to still have many who stood by my side, and I'm so happy to building a community and a life of my own in Toronto as well. Thank You, for those who have cared for me, for those who have loved me. Thank You, for those who have allowed me to care and love you in the ways that I could. I will try to stop blaming myself, for the love I could no longer receive, for the happiness that no longer includes me, for the love that had to leave.

           Flowers in The Shade, though desperate for sunlight,
          shall be their own sunshine, and then blossom, for the world.

Denial.

          Without consulting with a psychological/psychiatrical professional, I stopped taking my medications. I thought, that being here in University, being in a new setting with new people, would make me happier. I thought, that I would be happy... enough.

          I'm struggling to face my mental health issues. I feel like I'm in a state of denial, wanting to be normal, to be just another university student. Within a big institution like this, it feels lonely. It feels lonely because my disability is so invisible. Though I can't let this go on, and I can't just sweep my bad days under the rug, telling people that the reason why I'm missing lectures is me being lazy... It's starting again, not being able to get out of bed, and feeling tired for no reason. I'm scared, and I don't have a strong-enough support system yet here to be like this. I need to get myself together.

          And at times like these, I come to here. I come here, to write, to check in with my feelings, but also to update those around me who cares about my well-being. It's funny, of how personal yet public this is. I promise, that I'm gonna be okay. I have to be.

Homecoming.

          Coming "home"... to this town, is triggering. I find myself starting to shake as I see the familiar street views, I find myself out of breath looking at the house, I find myself wanting to cry, but I don't know why...

          Why shall I drag my tired body into a house of violence ?
          How can I force my tired soul onto a bed where I couldn't get up from ?
          What is this room but a prison of memories ?

          I'm sorry. I've cried too many times here, and I can't do this anymore...
          Sleepless nights, holding my broken pieces alone under the stars...
          This isn't what home suppose to be like.

Let Love Grow...

I drown myself in bleach trying to erase the mistakes that I've made.

Trying to die, just in order to be born again...

Why? Why do I murder myself so mercilessly,

Why do I feel the need to birth myself once more?

Who am I but a child, a creation of Mother Nature,

Who am I to have the power to birth myself again?

"You can be better. And I want you to be a better person..."

"But you fucked up here, with me, with everyone else..."

"So take this pill, and apply it to others."

Onto the sandy beach, and into the fresh cold water

I asked for cleansing...

Under the stars, and lit by the soft moonlight

I begged for forgiveness...

How, how can I be a good person?

How, how can I be a better person?

How, how can I be perfect?

How can I be loved?

I've tried to make a home out of myself,

yet whenever one leaves,

I burn the house down.

If one doesn't love me, then I must do better.

I must start over...

It's tiring... to start over.

I won't this time, I promise.

I will learn to grow flowers out of my scars,

and to water the wounds.

Let Love Grow within,

then Blossom.

          Thank You, to everyone who have helped me grow, and those who have stood by me through this journey of self-discovery. I'm off to University now, starting a new chapter of my life, a new adventure. I will hope to continue as an Activist spreading awareness for Queer and Trans Inclusiveness. And I will also continue to practice Self-Care and Self-love, yet it isn't a fast-moving process. My Mental Health has been getting better finally, and I'm full of emotions knowing that I'll be moving to the Greater Toronto Area for University of Toronto Scarborough. It's an exciting time, but also an anxious one, I'll try to keep you all updated by continue to write and post !

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 !

Depression Is When... (Poem)

Depression is when... 

When I overeat,

Trying to fill myself, my stomach,

Trying to fill this emptiness within me.

When I can’t get out of bed, 

Feeling like there’s no purpose to be alive. 

When I isolate myself, 

Blocking communications with others, 

Forcing people to leave me, 

Wanting to burden no one but myself. 

When I feel guilty,

For things that I can’t control. 

Feeling as if I need to be better, 

Feeling as if I need to change, 

Feeling as if I need to be fixed, 

In order to be loved. 

When I sleep for a whole day, 

And still feel sleepy, 

Desperate for an escape. 

When I want to cry, 

To let everything out. 

Yet I feel nothing, 

Not even a single tear. 

When I feel my friends’ hopelessness, 

Feeling like they no longer know, 

How to love me. 

When I fight a War with myself, 

Every Single Day. 

When I act so well, 

To look happy, To look confident, 

To be funny, To be sassy,

To be... fine.

Depression is when... 

When I don’t live, I Survive.

Leon Tsai

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.

Daddy Issues I.

         Daddy Issues, or in a more sophisticated academic language: "Father Complex", it's a group of unconscious associations or impulses to the image/archetype of a father. Many psychological studies have been done that includes this complex, such as reports/theories by Freud and Jung...etc. Now, I find myself with "Daddy Issues", do you ? Or is it "Mommy Issues" that you carry ?

          My father, a "former" alcoholic (some say that once an addict, always an addict), did not come with us when we left Taiwan. He became an addict due to his business, as he needed to drink socially with clients even when he's super lightweight and would get wasted every time. He then started drinking out of stress... but my father was and is a good man. He is kind, and generous, and super friendly. He's personality is so easygoing, I don't know anyone who doesn't like him. Most who know him will only describe him in one word: "Nice". He is nice, yet still a human after all. He just represses all of the negativity, unpleasantness, anger, disappointments...etc deep within him. And when he's drunk, those demons get unleashed. The negativity became him, and it's scary, he became abusive, physical, and violent... It's almost like he's not the same person. But it's just a toxic cycle, as after, when he gets sober, he feels guilty of his actions and words when he was drunk, and he tries even harder to be nice and represses all negative aspects of him. It amazes me how someone is so capable of controlling their emotions yet has no way of regulating and resolving them...

          He didn't come with us because of his business, he's a workaholic as he needs to constantly feel validated and his determination to be successful is... admiring yet very concerning. I don't blame him for choosing work over family, because I'm the same. I want to be successful, I want to be validated, I want to be somebody. So I get it, it just sucks because he started the business the same time my mother got pregnant. It was just bad timing... But that's not the only reason, he also didn't come with us because of guilt. He didn't feel like he was a good father. He didn't know how to raise his children. He was scared, and lost, and frustrated. I used to blame him, but I don't anymore as I no longer feel like I need a "father figure" in my life. To me, he's now just a provider, a person who works his butt off and sends money to us so we can live here in Canada. I am grateful and I have so much respect for him, but unfortunately, I no longer have an emotional connection with him. And I no longer desire a "normal" relationship with him... I feel like a horrible child, and the truth is that I am. Yet what can I say ? It's been too long, I left Taiwan at the age of 9 ! And he just comes to visit once every two years, only staying about 2 weeks every time. Every time he comes, we'll spent time together and just when I feel like I'm finally getting to know him more, he leaves. I'm sorry if I seem cruel, but I'm done. I don't need this. I love him on an appreciation and respect level, but there just isn't much feelings involved. Plus, we had a rough patch as he's quite traditional and did not take me coming out as Transgender well...

          I feel bad, as I can see how much he cares for this family, how much he has sacrificed, how much effort he puts into his work to provide for us, but I really don't know what to do... Maybe our relationship will get better in future, yet I doubt it.
       

Toronto Pride 2017

          Sometimes I've forgotten how it feels to be respected, to be seen "normal"... I walk down the streets everyday, with stares everywhere. I've gotten so used to being the one that stands out, for better and for worse, being questioned of "what" I am, being alienated, being... discriminated against.

          Yet at Pride, I fit in, who I am was no longer a controversy. We all were celebrating who we are, and we embraced each other's unique differences. It feels almost like a dream, and the moment I've walked away from the streets of Downtown Toronto and into the underground subways, the dream slowly faded... The more stops we pass, the further away we were from Downtown, the magic is gone... I've suddenly woke up from a beautiful dream, a dream us will only dare to have once a year. The entire month of June is International Pride, but people complain that it's too long. People don't understand why we need a whole month. People don't understand why we need Pride. The problem is the fact that we still need Pride, the fact that once June is over, us Queer and Trans people have to go back into our communities, our little neighbourhoods, our family even, and make ourselves smaller again. We need to curl up into a ball, taking as little space as possible, to stay safe, to stay sane, to stay.... alive.

          The first Pride Parade was a riot against Police Brutality, against the oppression against specifically Queer and Trans Women of Colour. Pride month is not a time for allies and others to tolerate us, to give us the space and platform to celebrate. We have fought and earned our rights, we have resisted against the system to have our visibility shown. We have been so brave, and Pride shall never end. We will keep on fighting, and keep on celebrating.

          The sky is oppressive, and only after the rain, after the storm, after all the destruction, will the sky allow the rainbow to appear. Yet the sky asks the rainbow to only show with the sun, but the sun have done nothing, the sun watched the pouring rain, the wind...etc. The sun didn't do shit. Let's stop glorifying the sun, and let's give the rainbow some credit. The rainbow just want the platform to spread it's beautiful colours. The rainbow has always been there, through the storm, through the night, through everything. The rainbow shall and will endure ! #QueerPower 

Bey & I: Challenging the Patriarchal System

Disclaimer: This piece is just a metaphorical comparison between my struggles against the patriarchal system as an Asian-immigrant Transgender Woman and what we've seen of Beyonce's public experiences as a black female artist, in no way am I trying to say that all BIPOC's struggles are the same nor is this piece saying that me and Queen Bey are on the same level in regards to being an activist or a social influence.

          As Malcolm X once said: "The most disrespected person in America is the black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the black woman. The most neglected person in America is the black woman." Yet how is Beyonce, a black woman in America, so successful ? Yet how is Beyonce, a black woman in America, able to be one of the most powerful and influential people in the world ? Is this really... her #BlackGirlMagic ?! Well, looking back at my years in high school, and the work of advocacy that I've done, I'm a little surprised as well. A female student gave me some feedback on the women's history month assembly that I organized, and she said that she had been talking to the school admins about having an assembly like that for months, and I was able to do because "I'm Leon". But it's not just her, many other students have told me that I'm doing stuff other people can't do, just because... I'm me ? I don't understand, I am one of the most marginalized people in the school, one of the most oppressed people under the system. Why do I have this power ?

          Well, then I thought of Beyonce's journey, and how we've both invaded the system in a way ! Before anything else, we both had to disguise ourselves. We both somehow had to fit into the system, even if it's not being "real". I came as an immigrant, yet I quickly learned English and desperately tried to hide my accents. I came out as gay and happily became a "token", the gay best friend many white cis-straight girls wanted me to be. For Beyonce, when she started her solo career, she mostly only wore wigs, not having her natural hair out. And what was even more interesting was that many of her wigs were blonde. She, as a black woman with a southern background, did not produce any music that reflected back to her communities. And most importantly, she sexualized herself, within her mainstream pop music videos, she fetishized herself for her audience. Yes, it's basically what all female pop artists have to do to be popular, but still, she gave in and made content strategically for men's liking... Then, after we've both gained power and popularity, we reveal our true identities as the woke bitches that we are ! (I don't know about Beyonce, but I was more growing into the bad bitch that I am rather than revealing it lol.) Remember after Beyonce dropped her visual album "Lemonade" ? And how the world went crazy because they didn't know how much Beyonce stood for the #BlacklivesMatter movement ? Remember when Beyonce used the Superbowl stage as a platform to pay tributes to Michael Jackson and Malcolm X ? Remember how controversial it was ?! Yep, that's my girl. Go Queen Bey ! Now, most people supported the LGBTQ+ assembly that I organized, yet the Women's History Month celebrations ? It got controversial, people got political, and comments got a lot nastier. Then, I wasn't able to make the Mental Health Awareness assembly happen... People started questioning my intention as an Activist, people wondered if I'm doing "too much", if I'm pushing the messages too hard... I even had to fight to make Pride Week happen, just because I wanted to invite Drag Queens in and perform in our cafeteria during lunchtime. Still, it happened, and yes there were backlash, but it was amazing.

          We made history !!!

          Yet even with our work of advocacy and status, we're still facing backlash. On the last day of school, I wore a scandalous sequins minidress to celebrate the ending of high school and my thick & juicy body. I was feeling myself, and I wanted to end my high school years on a good note, symbolically spreading the message of loving oneself (physically, emotionally, and mentally). Though of course I got scolded by many teachers as I've clearly violated the dress code, but most let it slip through because it's the last day of school. One teacher particular stood out, a white cisgender straight white man, spoke to me privately and expressed his concern. Now, if it was just a matter of violating the dress code and making him or other male students uncomfortable, fine, I'll take my punishments. After all, I'm still a student under the system. Yet he expressed about how he felt threatened, as he felt like if I'm challenging the system, I'm challenging him as well. Now, "threatened" ? A white man feeling challenged by a trans person of colour embracing and loving their body ? Celebrating and having pride in one's marginalized identity ? Mhm, so surprised... *rolls eyes. He even questioned me of my intent and asked why I've decided to do this on the last day of school after everything that I've contributed for the community. He felt like me dressing like this and challenging the system will ruin my "legacy"...

          As you can see, there is still so much more work to do. Even if me and Bey have really invaded the system somehow and gained some power, we are still oppressed in many ways. Allies, y'all need to do better. We all need to do better. We shall fight, we shall resist, and we will not stop until all voices are heard, and answered.

          Stay Woke, and Stay Fabulous !

       
       

Youth VIII: Chrysanthemum

          The history of yellow/orange/golden chrysanthemums dates back to China in the 15th century. The Chinese thought that the chrysanthemum flowers offered such perfection with the beautiful alignment of petals that it became the blossom of nobility. In ancient Japan, these flowers were a symbol of power and perfection, representing as the sun. Now in Asia, chrysanthemum flowers represent rebirth, especially because dried dead chrysanthemums are known to blossom again in hot water when used to make tea.

          You have been born so many times, the first when your mother gave birth to you, the second when you moved to Singapore, then when to Malaysia, then again for Canada, and then finally you birthed yourself when you came out of the closet. And throughout the years of battling with mental illnesses, you've mentally killed yourself, over and over. Yet here you are, still alive. You are a survivor and a fighter. You are one of the strongest person you know, you inspire yourself. You are beautifully imperfect, amazingly flawed, you are... you.

          Yes, this piece is written for me, by me, and dedicated to me. Yellow/Orange/Golden Chrysanthemums are my favourite kind of flowers, they're so beautifully complex, and the meaning of rebirth just speaks to me so personally. Symbolically I have died countless times, both emotionally and mentally. I have even tried to harm myself physically in the past as well. Yet I will survive, I will endure, and no matter how low I get, I know I will rise again. It's not an act or state of narcissism, I think we all should appreciate ourselves and look at the things we've overcome. I am so thankful for the things I've done, the steps I've taken to care and love myself better. I am also so proud of who I've become and the way I've grown. I'm excited to keep learning, to keep working, and to keep growing. It's now time to say goodbye to high school, and embrace a new chapter in life. It's scary, and I'm trying my best not to get swallowed by anxiety, but it's okay, because I can handle it. I know I can.

          I have and will always be grateful for those who have loved and cared for me, because I know that being there for me isn't easy. Yet I have to show some appreciation for myself as well, because even though I'm still just learning to love myself, I've trying my very best. I put so much effort into self-care, and it's finally showing. I'm getting better, and I'll be okay. For the first time ever it seems, that I can actually believe myself when I say/write that...

          I am strong. I am beautiful. I am capable. I am surviving. I, will be okay.

"Everyday, I write a poem titled 'tomorrow'. It is a handwritten list of the people I know that love me, and I make sure to put my own name at the top."

- People You May Know, Kevin Kantor

Youth VII: Daisy

I love you so much,

so much that I even started loving myself too.

Like daisies, your beauty will endure, 

in the most simple and youthful way possible.

Your charm will spread and bloom,

creating an eternal Spring.

Your love couldn't heal me,
yet you held my hand, trying your best to be there.

Thank You, for loving me,

and letting me love you in the little ways that I could.

“You Accept The Love You Think You Deserve”

Well baby,

You Deserve Everything.

Youth VI: Iris

          We try to escape from Time, yet it always catches on...

          There's so much miscommunication and misunderstandings, but to me there's no need to clear things up anymore. It saddens me, yet I'm happy if you're finding your own happiness. I wish I can be there for you more, contributing to your laughter, yet the truth is, your happiness no longer includes me. And trying to fit myself into a life that doesn't have the space for me will just create more tension. So we're both moving on I guess, but I still love you, and I wish you well.

          You are a person that amazes me, with your intelligence and your beauty. The way you look at the world is so mature, it was an honour to have shared and exchanged thoughts with you. Thank you, for being there for me for such a long time, it must've been difficult, it must've been tiring. Thank you.

          In Ancient Greek mythology, the Goddess Iris was a link between Heaven and Earth, guiding women to happiness after death. Your femininity is so unique, so special, so beautiful, filled with so much strength and power. You are stronger than you think, and you are more capable than it seems. You are a strong independent woman, and that often can feel lonely, but you will thrive, and you will conquer. You inspire me to be the woman that I am.

          I love you so much, and again, thank you. I was a mermaid, trapped in the ocean, and it was you, who introduced me to the sky.

Youth V: Sunflower

          People often see sunflowers as happy, bubbly, and a symbol of positivity. Yet we both know that we as people fake those characteristic traits in our lowest and roughest times. I personally see sunflowers as a symbol of desperation. The sunflowers are growing so tall, because they're all trying to receive the warm sunshine, they're all just trying to survive, trying so hard to remain positive, to smile. Sometimes, life isn't all that great, but we have to fake it somehow...

          Me and you both often bound over the hardships of life, and we've watched each other grow as we survive whatever life throws at us. I've personally seen your blossom of maturity, self-awareness, and a deeper understanding of others. Our times in middle school wasn't the best, but I'm glad that we became friends in high school. I'm grateful for you sticking by me after everything, it must've been difficult. I don't really understand why you held on so tightly, is it out of guilt ? Is it out of love ? Is it out of... desperation ? After all, it doesn't matter. I love you, and thank you. Yet it saddens me to see you not being appreciated enough, or being rejected of attention, love, and care. You deserve so much, and sometimes you can be so misunderstood. I know that sometimes it felt like I was trying to push you away, pushing you towards "them", please don't ever think that it's because I don't want you, or that I feel you need to pick one. I just want you to be happy, and personally I don't think people are happy when they're with me...

          I want to make a home for you, a refuge for you when the world gets too heavy, when reaching for the sunlight becomes too tiring. I want to be your place of comfort. I want you to know that you can always come to me, that I'll be here for you no matter what. You are loved, you are cared, and I know that sometimes it seems that we're unlovable. But I love you, and we shall not only survive together, but we shall thrive.

          I love you so much, keep in touch ! Good luck in college, I believe in you.

Youth IV: Lavender

         The Lavender... the calming blues, the soft purples... the soothing smell of comfort.

          You know, I used to dislike the lavender flowers, thought that they were too... plain ? I thought that there weren't much to them. Yet I was wrong, just like how you used to say to me how you think you aren't deep enough, how you think you aren't experienced enough compared to some of us. See, that's the beauty, that you may not have experience some of the hardships of this world yourself, but you have a heart of compassion, you care so selflessly, and you open your arms up to sympathize with the others. The most wonderful part of these lavenders are the incredible scent, so calming, so comforting. It suits you as we all see you as the "mom" in friendships. And though simple, lavenders grow in bushes, how your love and care is so fulfilling, so... enough. Your simplicity is beautifully enough.

          I know we have had our struggles, and our differences. Yet I love you, and I celebrate who you are and everything that you have done for those around you. You are lovely, and you will continue to make this community a better place. Thank you, for taking care of me in times that I need. Thank you, for being the wonderful person that you are. Thank You.

          I wish you all the best in your post-secondary studies, and hopefully we can keep in touch somehow. It's difficult, and we all need space and time to grow, so I think we can agree that a lot of unfortunate things have happened that'll need more time to heal. Though, I have and will always appreciate you and everything that you are.

Youth III: Jasmine

          The Jasmine flowers, white, elegant, and sitting still, displaying such calm, and depth.

          You are exactly that, yet at times you can be the extreme opposite. You are so intelligent, with such beautiful, deep thoughts, often hidden under those thick hair of yours. Your sense of humour is dark, sarcastic, yet still charming. Unlike the other girls, I already started missing you. I miss you so much, but I'm so happy for you, as I can see how happy you are at your new school. You have to really thrive in some aspects of your life, both socially and academically. And I'm always here if you need anything. I know you're often very introverted and not someone who would share many things, or that you don't think you have anything worth sharing. This has always made me nervous as I felt as though you weren't comfortable enough to open up to me. I really hope that's not the case, because I love you and you are so so wonderful, I'm happy I got to meet you while you were still at the high school we all went to.

          You are independent, and you know what's best for you. There's no doubt that you will succeed, and you will excel in the things you pursue in.
          I love you, and I hope to catch up soon~

          The best of luck to you for post-secondary, and even though you suck at texting back,
          I still love you !!!

Youth II: Marigolds

          You two are so different, yet both just equally as beautiful and inspiring.

          One of you is a girl who cares, someone who truly cares about me, about the world, about life. You are so filled with love and talent, it makes me smile just thinking about you. Yet somehow I always find you when you're in your lowest times, I've lost count of the times I've seen you crying in the washroom. You are so selfless, so giving to the world. We don't deserve you, we really don't. Your talent inspires me as a dancer, and as a person. Watching you dance is like watching the stars, it's like watching a marigold blossom in Spring. You, are the beauty of this world that gives me the strength to be myself. Remember when you saw me in the hallway the day after Trump got elected and started crying ? You are such an amazing ally towards the LGBTQ+ community, you are so passionate for those around you, I wish I can be more like you. You, are a treasure in this world, and I'm lucky to call myself a friend of yours. I know you will go off to do great things. You will shine, and I wish you happiness along with your success.

          The other one of you is a girl who've watched me grow as a singer, as a dancer, and as a person. We started out in vocal class together in Grade 9 and moved up to the major class together. We bounded over our love for the musical "Wicked", and we would always fight over who gets to play Elphaba. Obviously, even though it pains me to admit it, you would play her. You're so talented, and kind, and hardworking. You inspire me, but not just me, you inspire the world around you. You are a star who is shining brighter than the sun yet still remains humble like the moon. I have no doubt that you would go off to do great things in life, because you're one of the most hardworking, most passionate people I know in the arts field. Keep Shining, and I wish you so much happiness ! You deserve to be loved and treated as kindly as how you treat the world.

          You both are just so amazingly talented and wonderful. I am truly honoured and lucky to have met you. Thank you for loving me, for being my friend, and for being the lovely people that you both are. I hope that we'll all stay in touch and shall always be there for each other~

Youth I: Rose

          Red, a colour of Passion, Sexuality, and Strength.

          You were the first friend I made in high school, I remember you with your long curly red hair, your all-black aesthetic, and your cool-edgy attitude. You were my friend when I was a "boy", and you are still my friend now after me coming out. You have always been an inspiration of mine, a strong independent woman who is sexually liberated. A woman who is not afraid to speak her mind and refuse to take on people's bullshit. You know how to protect yourself, against this world that often can be so cruel and unforgiving. You seem to understand me and my insecurities better than most people around me, you act like you don't care but you do. You care so much, you have such passion within you when you look at the world. It's beautiful, you're beautiful.

          When I think of a a power and strong woman, I think of you. You are a rose with thorns, you are a fighter. You are hilarious, as I always laugh my ass off when I'm with you. You are extraordinary, talented, and so effortlessly beautiful and bright. Remember our New York trip ? Remember how we said that we would go off to New York after high school and be roommates ? Remember how it changed to Toronto instead ? Things have changed so much and we got along with different people, yet when I needed someone to go to, you are still always there, with your arms open. For that I will be forever grateful. Thank You so much for loving me for the way I am, Thank You so much for being my friend, Thank You.

          The end of High School is upon us and we will go our separate ways, we will both be off doing great things I'm sure. Yet we shall stay in touch ! I love you so much, Thank You for making the four years of High School so wonderful.

The End of High School

          It is officially the end of High School ! I never thought this day would come, but here we are. WE MADE IT !!! The last 4 years have been a roller coaster ride, I have grown so much as a student, and a person in general. Most people have seen the worst of me, and some were lucky enough to see the best of me. Are these really the "best years of our lives" ?! God I hope not. Let's pray that we will continue to rise and thrive in the future.

          I have so much to say, yet so little time... So I'll be doing a series call "Youth" starting after this, featuring some of the most influential girl-friends that I've made during these four years. It will be an emotional series, giving thanks and sending love to those who have been there for me and have inspired me. Without them, I would not be the woman that I am today.

          Before that, I want to just talk a little bit about my high school, a place that has always welcomed me with open arms. And for that, I will never be able to express how thankful I am, how much that means to me personally especially even after I came out. Also, even though I'm pretty sure the Arts program killed billions of my brain cells, I am so honoured to have been able to take part of this amazing Integrated Arts Program. I came into the school in grade 9, only majoring Visual Art, yet now I am proudly to say that I am graduating as a Visual Art major, Vocal Music major, Drama minor, and Dance minor. I have truly found my Art, and my Art is Activism. Through the areas of the arts, I was able to learn and gain different skills to apply into my work as an Activist. With Visual Art, I found myself studying the world around me, the relationships, the emotions...etc. I saw the world as a masterpiece, still yet to be finished, and it may never be perfect, but we will get there, we will try our best, we will all work on it, together. With Drama, I overcame my stage-fright, my insecurities with public speaking and owning space, claiming my presence. With Vocal Music, I found my voice, and I will continue to fight for those who's voice have been oppressed and silenced. Finally, with dance, an area that I've just started to explore earlier this year, an art form that I've been dreaming about ever since I was a little kid. Over the years, I've lost myself, unable to accept and embrace my body physically. Coming out as Trans was the first step, and dancing was the second. I'm learning to love my physical self through the dance movements and choreography, and I am so happy that the dance teachers looked past my lack of experience and gave me such opportunities.

          Thank You, to all the efforts of the dedicated teachers and wonderful students for making my High School years so rich, so full-of-memories, so beautiful, so... FABULOUS. Sending nothing but Love to all Graduates !

Senior Prom

          Prom just happened, and it was one of the most wonderful nights of my life. Everyone looked and hopefully felt beautiful, the night filled with joy and fun. It felt like the night would never end, and to myself I thought: This is the Eternal Youth, this is the Teenage Magic.

          Yet, there's still so much anxiety, so much self-doubt... I won the student-voted award of Sassiest Senior, and when my name was called, I strutted to the front of the dance floor, in my giant fluffy red ball gown. Though to be honest, I am not the sassiest senior student in the school, I am not the most confident, I am not the funniest. I know that isn't who I am but a mask, a character to hide my insecurities, my traumas, my struggles. But when my name was called, it felt so natural, it became an instinct, I slipped into my character right away and gave yet another convincing performance. Oh how my alter-ego has consumed me. An alter-ego in which I have created to overcome my stage-fright in grade 9, to feel less socially awkward, to mold myself into a crowd-favourite, an adored and dehumanizing queer-stereotype. This blog is to prove that not everything is what it seems, that behind the glitter fabulousness, I am still struggling, I am still wounded, I am still... human.

          I kept on dancing and dancing, until I see my old friends across the dance floor, the ones whom I have opened myself up to, whom I had stripped down of my alter-ego to exposed myself to... Unfortunately, it didn't work out. I bared myself naked, and I started to drown, but none of them knew how to help, none of them knew how to be there for me. And I became a "bad friend" because I wasn't able to be stable enough. I was "toxic" for calling out transphobic and misogynistic behaviour, I was "dramatic" for my mental health issues, I was... almost it seemed unable to be loved. We made promises to each other, that we would fight against the darkness, yet what happens when I become the darkness itself ? What happens if I got consumed by the darkness within me ? I felt so anxious and down I had to step out of the room, I went out to the patio to get some fresh air. I just feel so unlovable. Am I not good enough of a person ? What is wrong with me ?

          I'm getting better though, along with my medications and therapy, I'm coping. The battle against mental health is not over, and I will survive. I have to. Yet looking back, seeing all the things and the people that I have lost from just trying to survive is more than difficult. And it seems like no matter how much I've tried, I will never shed the image of my alter-ego, some people can never see me differently now. It's upsetting but it's okay, I'm graduating anyways. I'll get a chance to start over in university, to be more stable, to be more real, and to be more happy.

          Thank You to those who have celebrated Prom with me, it was an honour and an absolute pleasure. I had so much fun, and it was truly a magical night.

Solitude.

          Am I falling in love with the state of solitude ?

          Or am I drowning in the state of solitude ? I can no longer tell the difference...

          A mental breakdown... I screamed for my mom to stop the car, I threw myself out of the car, and I watched her and my brother drove away... I was alone, on the side walk out in the middle of nowhere, but I had to get out, out of that space filled with transphobia and violence. I found myself crying, alone, trying to call or text someone for help. My phone had 5% of battery left, and it felt like a waste of time scrolling through my contacts, no one could help me. The thought of having nobody to go to in a time of crisis just made me cry even more, harder, louder... Yet I still managed to collect myself, because strangers were walking by, and I had to present myself well. I had to look okay, I had to be okay. I forced myself to slowly walk to the nearest bus stop I could find, yet I didn't want to go home. I didn't know where I could go. I sat, alone under the bus stop shelter, watching buses go by, crying, screaming, desperately trying to find my place in the world. What is my purpose ?

          I know it's dramatic, yet I find myself helpless in times like this, and I'm forced to be reminded that I'm only 17. I'm still just a high school senior student, and going around to schools, talking about my coming out journey, spreading awareness for the LGBTQ+ community can be extremely emotionally-draining. Especially if some schools do Q&A where students ask some very personal questions in regards to my family life, my social life, and my mental health. Don't get me wrong, I love the work of Activism, and I am absolutely for the opportunities that I'm given, yet it's tiring, and sometimes it feels like I'm taking on the world all alone. And it really sucks when I find myself so lonely, so helpless when I'm so emotionally, mentally weak, when I just need someone to hug me, to comfort me, to tell me that it'll all be okay... 

          This state of solitude, so beautifully strong, so fiercely independent, yet behind it all, I am still sensitive and soft. After all, I'm still... wounded. I will be okay, I have to be somehow. I will rise, and I will learn, I will continue to survive. 

          And together we shall not only survive, but we will thrive.

          "Love will not heal me, but it will hold my hand if I ever heal myself."

- Healing, Nayo Jones

The Misunderstood...

          The Misunderstood is a common character/plot theme used in the media, yet is it applicable to real human relationships ? Isn't everyone misunderstood because there'll always be two sides to the story ? No one is ever fully understood, and we sometimes may not even understand ourselves. A true functional and healthy relationship is where we are able to communicate our differences and misunderstandings, and us being open-minded enough to learn the other side of the story. Though here I am, forcing myself to embrace the fact that I've become... The Misunderstood.

          Not every story has an ending, not every situation has a closure, and certainly not every relationship is healthy and worthy enough to explain myself. Me being misunderstood isn't about me, it's about the other person not ready enough to learn my story. Me being misunderstood isn't me not wanting to explain myself, it's the other person not willing to listen. Me being misunderstood isn't fair, but I have to learn to move on...

          You think that I want you to choose between me and them, yet I've only ever told you to choose them. You think that it's me testing you, but it's not. It really isn't, I know that you want more, and that you need more, than just me, and I'm afraid of myself not being able to give you everything that you deserve. So I want you to choose them, to belong, to fit in. You say you want both me and them, yet you come to me angry at how they ignore you because you're with me, so I say go, leave me, go with them. All I ever want is you to be happy, and it hurts that you have constructed such narrative, demonizing me into someone that would want to force you to leave them for me, even thinking that I would create rumors to purposefully make you think that they're excluding you. I want to explain myself, I want to defend myself, but when you told me that you've been telling them how I want you to make you leave them, you've crossed the line. I feel betrayed, I no longer can waste my tongue, I can no longer have the patience to explain myself. I decided to be silent, and we went our separate ways. Yet now, you've reached out, saying you want "things to be how they were", but now I've learned that the reason why you can't give me a ride home is because your mom still thinks that you hate me ? I really, really don't deserve this. And when others ask how come we're talking again, you refuse to explain, you want my love and care without the world knowing that you stand with me. How is this fair to me ? Why am I not worth fighting for ?!

          I'm tired, tired of constantly trying to prove my love and loyalty. I am tired of trying so hard for people to love me back, I am tired of trying so hard to maintain my friendships and keep everyone happy. Because no one is trying to hear me out, and I'm just done. It hurts being misunderstood, and I wonder if anyone will ever believe in me anymore, but it's better than this. I don't deserve to be treated this way. I can't let myself do this anymore...

Giving Birth to Myself.

          Last week, we celebrated Mother's Day, and we shall remember that Motherhood comes in all different and beautiful ways. Happy Mother's Day to Cisgender Mothers, Transgender Mothers, Intersex Mothers, Gender Queer/Fluid/Non-Binary Mothers, Straight Mothers, Lesbian Mothers, Bisexual Mothers, Pansexual Mothers, Asexual Mothers, White/European Mothers, Asian Mothers, Latina/Latinx Mothers, Black Mothers, Native/Indigenous Mothers, Biracial Mothers, Immigrant Mothers, Mothers with Physical/Mental Disabilities, Sick Mothers, Passed Mothers, Mothers in all Shapes and Sizes, Grandmothers, Stepmothers, Mothers with Adopted Children, Mothers who have lost Children, Mothers-To-Bes, Mothers with Strained Relationships with their Children, Teen Moms, Drag Mamas, Sugar Mamas, and Those Who Yearning to be Mothers...etc. There can be so much more to Motherhood. We shall celebrate all of that !

          Yet one Mother's Day post online not only caught my attention, but it personally touched me as a Trans woman who have not and will not be able to give birth physically.
The tweet reads...
"Happy Mothers Day to all the Queer and Trans people who had to Give Birth to Themselves."
          It's true. I did give birth to myself. Not only that, I'm teaching my mother how to give birth as well. It's a metaphor challenging the traditional definition of "womanhood" and what it means to be a "woman". I gave birth to myself when I've embraced my femininity as a trans woman, when I've given myself the freedom to be who I really am, when I came out of the closet. And I'm also helping my mother who suffers from internalized misogyny and transphobia to not only accept who I am, but also herself as a woman.

          In our society, it is difficult to be a woman, to be feminine, to take pride in our womanhood, in our motherhood. But we are here, together, celebrating motherhood, even when it means to be grateful to ourselves for liberating our own identity, for self-care, self-love, and self-empowerment.

On Being Suicidal...

Trigger Warning: Talks of Mental Illnesses & Suicide.

          I'm suicidal... but no, it's not what you may think.
          I'm safe, I'm not self-harming, and I don't have any plans to die... yet.

          Throughout April, I've been quite suicidal actually, and now that I've gotten an increased dosage of my medication, I feel better, more stable. Yet I'm still suicidal, but just in a grey-area where I don't plan on attempting it nor am I self-harming, but I still "feel" it. It's having these dark clouds above, knowing that I'm safe, and that I'm "stable enough" to function, to smile, to get out of bed, to socialize, yet this wave of anxiety tells me to be afraid, to be careful, because we will never know when the dark clouds will consume me. It's like having a monster within me, and I'm just living, waiting to be eaten from the inside. I know I'm being controlled by the medication, and I'm grateful for how it helps me to regulate my moods, yet I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being sad, I'm afraid of myself without the medications. I'm afraid of wanting to die...

          My therapist asked me, "So your depression says: 'I want to die', acting as your little suicidal voice within you. Yet what does Leon say, what do you reply to that thought ?"
          I paused, and answered, "Leon says... 'wait'."

          Wait, I can't die, because my work isn't done yet. I need to finish my high school education, I need to make sure that my mom's okay, I need to make my brother believe that I love him, I need to spread awareness and educate, I need to be an activist, I need to work on the relationships I've failed, I need to let those who've left me know that I'm still thankful for them, I need to learn how to love better... I am surviving, by my responsibilities. I am surviving, because I still need to do so much for the world. I will only die when I have nothing else to give. I've already failed at loving others and maintaining most of my friendships, but I'm still giving back as an activist, as a student, and as a daughter. I've lost so many people in life while I was unstable, now that I'm finally "stable", I can't mess it up again. So wait, wait because your work is not done, and it'll be irresponsible to leave. I don't have any friends to stay alive for, but I have an audience to stay alive for. And my mother, who needs me, who has also been dealing with depression for years, who is also surviving by responsibilities. She admits to me, that she stays alive by reminding herself of her motherhood, of her children.

          I'm also waiting, for happiness. I'm waiting, telling myself that there'll be hope. Taking medications and going to therapy, I want to believe that it gets better, yet it really doesn't. It doesn't always get better for some people, we just have to get stronger. We have to get better, because life doesn't. We have to keep fighting, and keep going forward.

          Stay Strong.

Dance.

          Earlier this week I had my debut dance performance on stage. I performed in three pieces and it was absolutely nerve-wrecking yet just so exciting. I wanted so much more, and I'm craving for more. I know I'm not the best dancer, nor do I have years of training and stage-experiences, plus my body isn't as fit, but I have passion. I am creative, and I love dancing with all my heart. At times, I do feel very insecure with my body-size and my lack of techniques to be dancing alongside with such talented girls in the dance program. Yet I remind myself that I've fought and auditioned for a spot here and I just need to keep dancing. Just keep dancing.

          I've always wanted to be a dancer, I've always loved using movement to express myself. Yet as the years went on, I became more insecure in my own skin. And now, I'm fighting back, I'm confronting my body and embracing it's curves and folds. I will dance, I will love and accept myself, as a fat transgender girl.

          This is also why I love the arts so much, because we can learn so much about ourselves through the different arts. I've used visual art to inspire my thoughts on life, on nature, and on the relationships between people. I've used vocal music to find my voice, not only in music yet also for activism. And now, I'm using dance to embrace my physical self, to love my flaws and to use my body for art and self-expression... for beauty, to be beauty.

Blossom.

"and here you are living,

despite it all"

- Rupi Kaur

          I was a dying Butterfly, and then a crying Mermaid, but now... 

          I'm a Flower, a Golden Flower blossoming in an eternal Spring.

          I once admitted that I hated the colour yellow because I felt ashamed and alienated to be a person of colour, to be an Asian immigrant. I wanted to belong, to fit in, to be accepted. I dreamed of drowning myself in bleach, and I desperately cut off my mother tongue, replacing the words of Chinese with English and French. Yet lately, not only have I come in terms with my gender identity, I have also really tried to reclaim my identity of being a person of colour. I have been learning to accept and embrace my beautiful Asian self and it's been quite a journey. I have not only blossomed as an Activist, but also as an individual that's finally starting to embrace myself as a whole. And you see, when I finally accept myself, the colour yellow no longer represents me. It can no longer defines me. It's a stereotype, a box to keep people in, and I've finally set myself free. The hue was there for me to embrace, a symbol for me to overcome an internal denial. I'm now different, better, I'm at a better place with myself. I'm now... Golden.

"the world gives you so much pain,

and here you are making gold out of it"

- Rupi Kaur

          This Blog will grow with me, and evolves along with my experiences. I am not afraid to change, yet the question is always, what am I losing ? Am I able to afford for such changes. I've lost people for Blooming. I've lost people for becoming Gold. Yet the women we wish to embrace and be will always cost us something, because that's how life is. And sometimes there's nothing we can do, because other people's thoughts and actions are not something we can control. At this point, I've really given up, on consistently having to defend and fight for myself in these relationships. People have always been seeing me as "the enemy", "the villain", and I am no longer able to carry this guilt with me anymore, not when it doesn't feel like I've deserved it. Maybe, if they can't understand me now, they will never. Maybe I am speaking clearly, and explaining myself logically. Maybe they're the ones with their ears closed and eyes shut. Maybe, it's time... to let go.

I’ve made Mountains with my Curves,

Rivers with my Folds, and

Flowers with my Scars.

It’s the Blossom,

of an Eternal Spring.