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.