Life in Gender Limbo: Outdoors, passing, family
Be advised that these titles may be taken as content warnings. I'm also very baked, so take my ranting with a grain of salt.
That said, welcome to the weekend, beans! Roxy here! Hope that you are all content wherever this finds you.
This little slice of trans life may go into tender territory; that's just the nature of the beast, I'm afraid. Be forewarned.
I suppose, the best place to start is with work. I work in an offshoot of the film industry. The warehouse I work in rents all kinds of gear to film productions. So I'm kind of on the periphery, the Oort cloud, if you will.
(Pictured: hypothetical Planet X, courtesy of Google )
It pays me enough to live like a person, it's the job I would have killed for 3 years ago, and it's been a very long time coming. But for now, I still have ro present myself in guy mode.
I mean, I've endured for this long. Surely, for the sake of the dream I am committed to chasing, it seems a very small sacrifice. But I've found I'm starting to lapse into the toxic masculinity i wanted to escape. (Suppose let's put a pin in that. Very long story )
It also doesn't really helps when my mother decides to surprise me by taking me for dinner, with her fiancee who she now worships like some divine being with silver hands, and my meth head kid brother.
I'm glad for them taking the time to see me, but at the same time, I've always felt like the third wheel. Im the interesting conversation piece they can set on the table and appear so goddamn sophisticated, like the wannabe Bourgeoisie they are.
It's within the realm of possibility that this is all inside of my head. Nearly 30 years of emotional abuse can do that to a person, and I fully admit to being kind of paranoid. But it doesn't help that my mother and I had actually started to make nice with each other. I felt like she was taking an active interest in the daughter she never knew she had.
Instead, I'm held out on display like some kind of proof thay says "look how progressive I am!"
It also doesn't help that she decides to make a pretty damn bad joke. She makes some quip of "maybe you're ugly and your mom dressed you funny." It was an inside joke that only she got, and it was intended as a very good natured Indian Morher joke, the kind that just intended to needle and keep you grounded in reality.
But for real, mom. Like a trans woman, just getting comfortable in her akin for the first time ever, she's NOT going to be super self-conscious of her appearance???
Oy. I'm gonna go get some food so I don't literally starve. This poverty thing isn't working out, nor is this proletarian existence.
Maybe I can get a nice dress and go clubbing tonight. I do have a little disposable income.
Stay safe, Steemed Beans! Next post will hopefully be a little happier!
💜💜💜- Roxy
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