I've woken up to yet another day wherein my body is betraying me with pain that makes it difficult to do chores, concentrate on mental tasks, or even perform basic bodily functions like eating. This betrayal seems to be getting more and more common.
I hate to complain. Well, that's a lie - I love to complain, but it makes me feel terribly guilty. The great refrain of my childhood was "You're too sensitive," often bolstered by a vague notion of children starving in Africa. But despite all the shame-conditioning, I still think I've had a pretty rough go of it these past few years. In summary, my family rejected me, my physical health is in decline, and my mental health, while at an all-time high, is still frustratingly fragile. My career is finally unpaused, but I'm still not where I want to be, and that feeling of failure has severely stunted my ability to pursue a social life or any meaningful hobbies, not to even mention the cash flow problems that come from such a long unemployment period. And as a special bonus problem just for me, my government seems increasingly determined to legislate me out of existence in a manner that makes it highly likely I will spend my life marked as criminal just for existing, that is, if I'm not killed by an increasingly hysterical populace that's been groomed to see genocide as a way out of upheaval and unrest.
On days like this, I wish I'd been born as someone - no, anyone else.
But what choice do I have? I will go on as myself, because the other option is not an option.
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Don't get me wrong, I like who I am and, given the opportunity to go through life again, I would probably make the same choices.
The issue lies more in the fact that "liking me" does not seem to be a very popular opinion. And yes, I am certain this has to do with my actual personality, because the more naturally I behave and the more sincere I am in expressing my true feelings, the more negatively people seem to react to me and my presence.
Maybe there are people out there, lots of them even, who would sincerely like me for who I am, but reaching them is only possible via spending money, and getting money to spend hinges on being liked by people that think "who I am" is worthless, annoying, cringey, whiny, or a failure. It's a catch-22 of epic proportion.
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There are big things I want to do with my life. In an ideal world, I would be writing, making art, building community, and teaching others those self-expressive skills that are so undervalued in a modern capitalist economy. All of these things require massive startup investments that I can't make. So every day that passes, I watch the big things on my horizon get further and further away from me. Once upon a time, when I was more able and willing to pretend to be someone I wasn't, they seemed much closer. That seems to be how people get ensnared in systems no one can really defend. They are promised the things that they want. Give up control over your present in service of a potential future.
But all futures are built in the present.
I want things, but not so badly that I can compromise myself, so I will have to find them on my own terms. That sounds braver and more romantic than it really is. Doing your own thing is so very, deeply lonely. No one can advise me because my choices and goals seem incomprehensible. When I fail, I'm told it's my own fault for trying something outside the box. On the rare occasion that I succeed, I'm not celebrated because my accomplishments are seen as pointless or worse, as basic requirements for life that everyone should be able to manage without effort (even though it's just not true for everyone). I am always being asked, explicitly or implicitly, to change.
No one seems to understand when I tell them: if I can't be who I am right now, I never will be.
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I'm trying really very hard to think of a positive note to end this on.
Honestly, I've got nothing. Another common refrain of my childhood was that 'misery loves company,' an aphorism used incorrectly to communicate that anyone who complained about anything was just playing a blame game to avoid self-reflection and would inevitably destroy their own life. The only valid strategy, according to this ideology, is to pretend to be happy. That's part of why I'm also reluctant to share details when mentioning the ways in which I've been hurt - I'm sure my audience will just view it as a pity party.
Frankly though, I am increasingly uninterested in minimizing my complaints just to try to get people to like me. The thing is, people who cannot stand to hear any expression of non-positivity will never truly be happy with you no matter how blithe and small you make yourself. They will sense that you are on edge around them, an inevitability of their attitude. That sense will lead to hostility as they try to poke and prod and pry out whatever complaint you're hiding. So even if you are determined to meet their standards of positivity, and succeed in appearing to do so, you will never actually earn their respect.
The only alternative strategy I've identified is unfiltered self-expression. So here I am, blogging.
I don't have anything else to wrap this up with. I'm just your local neighborhood transsexual trying to be a little more authentic and a little more confident. I'd love for you to try with me. I think we could all stand to try more at those goals.
Thank you, sincerely, for reading.
SC