Duchesstopaz - Essence

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 4 6:32pm

When I was 15, I was forced to get a job to pay for all of my school fees. I had to convince my future manager to give me the position illegally because I would eventually turn 16 in 3 months, which was the legal age to work at the time. After I got the job, you told my mom to force me to give her all of my paychecks to help her with the bills and groceries, and confiscated my money to use as an allowance for me. So, when I continued to be your perfect little pawn, then, I would slowly get the money I needed for my school activities. You used that opportunity to stop helping my mother with the bills, even though she made half as much as you, and a little after I was 16, you had 2 new cars and started your impulsive Amazon shopping habit that turned the extra bedroom into the “workout room” that it is today. I wasn’t even allowed to save for a car because I didn’t have my permit, which is because you and mom decided not to teach me until a year later because I wasn’t “making enough to get a car in the first place”. How does that make sense?

I decided to take inspiration from my father and turn vegan during my sophomore year. I had to learn how to grocery shop on my own for my diet, and cook for myself because he didn’t need “his wife” taking extra time to focus on my “unnecessary needs”, which was fine, I learned so much from that time. But, he also asked me questions everyday about the benefits of veganism and the recipes I was making and how much things costs because he wanted to “cut down from 330lbs to 260lbs”. He tried to make me feel antagonized for being vegan and that I was a burden on my mother for it, but also showed interest in it, then all these years later, he’s vegetarian now because he was inspired by me.

When I was 17 and a senior in high school, I didn’t have the motivation to truly apply for scholarships and to college due to my severe depression. No one ever asked or checked in on how that process was going, because it was assumed that I was doing great in school and would go to college, true, but still. I received no assistance searching for schools and scholarships, and it was because of my teachers that I received my full-ride scholarship to an almost Ivy League-level school. I wasn’t even excited when I received it because I was anxious to tell you all. And, I was right to, because you both weren’t even excited when I told you, the interaction lasted 2 seconds. Yet, you both turned around and gushed to everyone who would listen and on social media of how proud you were of me and how hard I worked. You wouldn’t even tell me that yourself.

I told my counselor about some of the trauma that you put us through because I wrote about it in my essays. I also wrote about how I found out that you were beating my mom, after she told me that she wanted to divorce you. I made the counselor promise me that she wouldn’t report it because the abuse stopped years ago, but while I was house-sitting for my mom’s boss, CPS came to the house. I admitted that I talked to the counselor about some things that happened at home, and my mom told me that she was glad that I was staying at that house because you were threatening to kill me.

I was part of the ever-controversial class of 2020. So, before the COVID lockdowns started, I was already planning for prom and graduation. I asked my “parents” for assistance paying for some of the costs needed to have the prom and graduation that I deserved, I guess I should have expected that you would say no. And, it was a slap in the face when you both told me to research how to make my graduation invitations and find a photographer, to not only pay for by myself, but to send to all of my and my mom’s family and to yours. And after the lockdown, and all those plans were canceled, you only threw me a party after my Nana told me she was making me a cake.

James decided to “gift” me his second pickup truck for graduating. Not mentioning all of the functional issues the truck had, and directing me to pay the $3,000 dollars worth of work that needed to be done to it. Then, after asking him if the truck would survive the 3-hour trip to Atlanta, he told me that he didn’t know and that I should continue fixing it. 2 weeks of me starting college, the truck was out of commission and he refused to help me figure out what to do. And a year later, after paying $1,500 of parking fees for a broken truck, he finally came down and scraped the truck, but kept all the money from it. It’s no surprise though, since through my 2 and a half years of college before this “gap year”, I never received any financial support from my adults.

I spent every break trying to avoid coming home. I took advantage of the fact that my college offered to house students who have abusive households over the break. Especially after my first Christmas break, where mom and I had our fight about literally all the trauma that I have endured from my supposed “father-figures”, that she continues to ignore, excuse, defend, and support. When my school denied me the opportunity to stay on campus the summer after my sophomore year, I thought I was going to be homeless. I wasn’t allowed back home after the fight, and I had no where else to go. But, after talking to my dad’s side of the family, I went back to where I grew up to stay with them. Of course, only to endure more abuse and more “conversations” of them defending my dad, because apparently, my whole family is fucked all the way up!

After I returned for my junior year, I thought things were going to be great. I was finally moving on from all the shit that you and everyone else did to me. But of course, scary men still exist, and after experiencing yet another triggering, traumatic event, I was done with this life that I’ve been dealt. Hence, the medical leave, or as most people refer to it, “a gap year”, and moving to New York with my sister, and then, having no choice but to move back home when everything fell apart.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 Part 5

It’s taking a lot of effort to not block anyone tagging my art as q slur.

It sounds like a lot of you might might need to learn some queer history. Which is fine - there is no shame in learning our history. We don’t get taught it- you have to go and specifically look for it.

It’s also important to note- Every single lgbtqia+ community label has been thrown back at us as slur. There isn’t a single one that homophobic, transphobic people haven’t used in a derogatory way. If we collectively decided to call ourselves Humans as our only lgbtqia+ label - no doubt there would be hateful people screaming back at us. Those types of people hate us - and no matter how sanitized, and pure - and free from any stigma you present your queer self - they will still hate us.

Queer was strategically chosen as an umbrella term during the protests in the late 1980 & 90s. If you’re not aware of the AIDS crisis- please learn about it. It was brutal -and the disgusting response from the government, conservatives, religious extremists was - they were happy that it was happening. They let hundreds of thousands of queer people die because they thought we deserved it. It was a truly horrific medical emergency that was purposefully ignored for many years.

So “We’re here, we’re queer, we’re not going to disappear.” became one of the slogans people would yell during marches and protests.

Queer was chosen because it wasn’t sterilized, sanitized, it was an assimilated, quiet version of being lgbtqia+. It was fucking in your face queer.

You couldn’t ignore it- we weren’t going to hide away in shame, or keep things wrapped up in secret like previous generations. Homophobic , transphobic people had to deal with the fact that queer people existed- and would always exist & there was nothing they could do or say to change that.

Because that’s exactly what they wanted. They wanted assimilation, or total nonexistence of all queer people. And unfortunately they still do.

Which is why seeing “the q slur” is so messed up. It’s giving that sanitized, reagan administration evangelical morality - homophobic, transphobic people everything they had hoped for. A fear based response of - if I make make myself as palatable as possible will you finally respect me?

Here is an amazing photo by Dan Nicolette that I think encapsulates that idea of what queer meant. I’m not going disappear, make myself easier for you homophobes to digest.

There is so much more I could say about this, but there is not enough room. Remember to check with reality rather than believing conspiracy theories promoted, supported, and funded by white nationalist hate groups.

Missouri is proposing 20% of the nation’s anti-trans legislation this session. Gender-affirming care for young folks is on the edge of being criminalized (so much love to trans friends in states where that has already happened).

Please keep up with the anti-trans legislation in your state and combat it. There are lives at stake.

Transphobes do not touch this post.

Image ID: a 10-image cartoon comic featuring Joey, a boy with short hair.

Image 1: Joey, upset, gesticulates towards an open laptop. Text reads: The reality of St. Louis trans kids. Last week, a former (non-medical) employee of Washington University’s Pediatric Transgender Center was featured in a viral article about how the clinic was “rushing” kids into medical care and “mutilating” us. Every single thing she said was a lie, but the media loves it. Footnote reads: I wouldn’t give any more attention to this, but it is immediately endangering the lives of trans people. Missouri has launched a state investigation and is actively attempting to criminalize gender-affirming care based on conspiracy theories.

Image 2: Joey points to a map of the United States where Missouri is singled out, and a map of Missouri where St. Louis is indicated with a star. The text reads: The Transgender Center, located in St. Louis, Missouri, has been the target of hateful attacks from the far-right state legislature for years. It is part of Washington University Hospital, a branch of a prestigious private university.

Image 3: A younger Joey injects his T shot in his leg while someone takes a photo. Text reads: I can tell you that everything in the article is false because I received care at the Transgender Center beginning at 16 years old. My medical transition has brought me nothing but joy. What a gift it is to be trans!

Image 4: A younger Joey sits on a couch and stims with a tangle fidget toy. Text reads: No one is “rushed”. I sat on many waitlists, had to have 6 months of specialized gender therapy and a diagnosis of gender dysphoria before even being referred to the Center, and I was denied as “not ready enough” by an endocrinologist the first time I finally got an appointment. Footnote reads: If you’re curious about what it looks like to be a trans kid, I did another piece on that! Check out tinyurl.com/transkidscomictumblr.

Image 5: A colorful map of the United States shows how many states have a Negative Gender Identity Policy Tally and how many states have criminalized gender affirming care. Joey holds a credit card. Text reads: St. Louis’ Pediatric Transgender Center is the only one in the region, meaning the waitlists are extremely long. Plus, no one in the only industrialized country without free healthcare is getting medical care for fun. Many American trans folks have to fundraise for our care.

Image 6: Joey, distressed, sits on a couch while talking on the phone. The person on the other end says: “That’s me!” Text reads: This former employee spoke about specific cases, and patients have been able to identify themselves. She shared our private medical info and called us horrifying.

Image 7: This is split into two panels. In the first, Joey holds up a box of condoms and a packet of birth control pills. Texts reads: She especially hated trans men such as myself, saying that trans ideology was destroying “girls”. She lamented about hormones making us “sterile”, which is a complete lie. We trans mascs have to actively prevent pregnancy. In panel two stands a doctor. Text reads: Every time I had an appointment at the Center, doctors reminded me: Remember: testosterone is not a contraceptive! Footnote reads: The wonderful Erin Reed wrote a breakdown debunking all the lies in the article. See tinyurl.com/erinreedmissouri.

Image 8: Joey, masked, sits at a circular table with his brother, an unmasked boy with fluffy short hair. Joey’s brother is showing him his phone. Text reads: Major newspapers continue to platform these complete lies because they bring in engagement and money. The Washington Post tracked down my little brother’s personal cell phone number to try to get in contact with our mom – the president of an organization supporting trans kids in Missouri. Freaky, right?

Image 9: Joey, looking disgusted, leans against a door frame while talking on a cell phone. Text reads: But no one wants to talk with me, the adult who medically transitioned at this clinic as a minor and has not “desisted” in six years. The Washington Post reporter, who didn’t know anything about trans people, talked with me for 20 minutes and used a sentence of mine in an article about “both sides of the debate”. She didn’t mention that this former employee is being legally represented by a recognized anti-LGBT hate group, nor that all of her claims are unsupported by reality or science.

Image 10: Joey looks angry and gesticulates. Beside the drawing are two photos of Joey, one of him happy in front of a trans flag, and the other of him drawing up testosterone to take his first T shot. Text reads: There is no debate. There are trans people, and there are people who want us dead. There is truth and there are conspiracy theories. Where is my viral article in a major paper?

Published Feb 16, 2023. End ID.

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022 Part 2

4:35pm

The second thing we talked about was Angel (again) needing to draw the line between her and Gem vs. me. She brought up how she needs to pour into herself, the same with Gem, but they haven’t been able to because they have been so focused on me (?) and their jobs. She also talked about how I enter the living room when they are having conversations between just them, and how I need to be more mindful of that. She then felt the need to say once again that she will always talk and choose Gem over me and to not take it personally, which I don’t (?). 

But, what’s bothering me is why this has to be a conversation topic that keeps coming up? I don’t mind if Angel or Gem don’t always tell me things and want to keep things within their relationship, but I’m not the one coming up to them asking for them to share things with me. They share a lot with me, to begin with, off of their own decisions to do so. Even though she said that she doesn’t want this to feel like roommates, I don’t feel that way at all. It feels uncomfortable because it feels like I’m invading their space and their relationship. 

I will definitely be more mindful of their conversations, and will try to leave the house more often to satisfy that need. I respect their relationship, but it’s not like it hasn’t dawned on me that they’re my older sisters and that my stay is temporary.

Part 1 -- Part 3

Something about I'm not over it, not over her...

and

The things that make you sad, am I one of them?

And the opening Pepa offered Eddie, that she didn't get it right the first time, either. "Right" being the forever love that Eddie's heart so clearly longs for.

Sometimes it takes three tries to get it right.

I'm still chewing on this, but there's something about how Eddie believes that in order to accept his love for Buck — to allow himself permission to love Buck — he would have to regret Shannon. And Christopher. Loving Buck would mean he never loved Shannon, shouldn't ever have been with her, therefore no Christopher. Which is such an unacceptable, alien concept, Eddie stays stuck.

But Pepa offered him a different view. Sometimes, it takes three tries to get it right. And all those "tries" are part of the process. Eddie is learning that he gets to hold all of it, that he doesn't have to choose. That Shannon's ghost — not her death but their life together — and Christopher and his forever love with Buck? All of them are part of who Eddie is — part of his heart — and always will be.

It's all very queer awakening in adulthood. Eddie is about to set himself free and finally allow his heart to have what it wants. What a wondrous thing to behold.

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of su*c*d*l ideations, hospitalizations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, guilt, bipolar depression, anxiety.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 4

12:06pm

My resolve sparked the shift. The shift from watching my pieces scatter from me sporadically to gluing them back together. By the time I landed, I knew there were expectations for me, whether they were from you or my friends, or even myself. Everything was still moving too fast, I really couldn’t keep up, but all I could think about was that I had to and that you two were there to help me.

But only half of that was true.

After I landed and we went to Langone (hospital), I think both of our expectations broke and we didn’t know what to do. I was in an unfamiliar place (New York City) with a deadline of January 1st to move out. I was losing myself throughout that entire time, and instead of finding hope, I found rejection immediately. Langone was the destination in my mind that would turn the tides. I would be able to heal and receive the treatment that I needed to kickstart the right kind of growth. I was ready to let go of my control of myself and release my inhibitions in the hope of something great… for me. 

But instead, I was rejected and I walked away with a packet of every out-patient facility in the NYC area.

Everything was too much. I was broken and was fighting myself to not to want to give up, for you and everyone else, and I decided to keep saving face and see it through. Then maybe, it would be for me too.

After Langone, you were upset, it was nowhere near the plan of me staying in the hospital for 2 weeks. I think that’s when I shied away from you and confided in Gem. I was upset too that Langone didn’t work out, but I was so tired, too tired, of trying to lift off the ground and take flight. I needed time to gain more energy, to repair my mask that was so close to completely breaking. Because if I wasn’t okay enough to manage, then all of your efforts and money would have been wasted. So, I did just that. I rested for almost a week, and felt strings lifting me to dance a song I didn’t know.

You guys did your best to pour into me. By telling me to journal again, to eat, drink water, to get outside. Despite all that was on each of your plates, you made sure I knew that you were there for me. But, how you specifically did it took much longer to understand.

I felt like I was an intruder in your home. A parasite taking what you had for a gain I had not identified or knew existed. I was trying to be so careful; not to do something wrong, to upset you, to make you question if bringing me there was a mistake…

You asked me to wash the dishes, I started washing them almost every time, so you wouldn’t have to ask again. You got upset that second week that I didn’t take out the trash and recycling on time, I made sure to take them out by the end of each day. You told me to clean the bathroom on the weekends, I put time aside to clean it on Sundays. You told me y’all like to spot clean throughout the week, as soon as I saw cat litter on the hallway floor, I was sweeping and moping the whole house.

You told me that I was irresponsible with money, that it was a slap to the face, even though it wasn’t with your money. I stopped buying things that was just for me, bought groceries for the household, and occasionally bought a coffee.

You told me that you expected me to go back to school in January, then when I said that I didn’t want to, you only said okay. I started looking at colleges and scholarships and made a list.

You told me that you didn’t have the space for me to regularly let you know the progress I was making, even though I was putting in all this effort for you, for you to keep seeing me alive and well. I stopped talking because there was nothing left of me to pull from and share.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

*Trigger Warnings: Mentions of abuse, nightmares, neglect, PTSD symptoms, and depressive feelings.*

Saturday, Oct. 22nd, 2022 Part 3

10:30pm

I had a nightmare last night that repeatedly woke me up. I didn’t remember it until I was writing in my other journal. Last night, my Papa told me that my stepdad, James, came with my Mom to California to visit, which in hindsight, I should have realized that sooner. We talked about James being there and how Papa would react to meeting him for the first time, but initially, I was just joking around. It wasn’t until the nightmare that I realized how triggered I truly am by James.

It was about my Papa confronting James about his abusive treatment of my brother and I after getting upset. The situation was really aggressive and resulted in my Mom packing up their things and leaving early, while ending things with Papa.

I find it a little defeating and irritating that James still sets me off after all this time. I don’t think I’ve processed that trauma at all, and it clearly still affects me. I’m still harboring all this hurt and trauma from both him and my Mom. From the moment that man entered our lives, my mother stopped being a mom to me when I needed her to be. I’m disappointed and full of rage towards her and what my childhood was like from that point onward. I really don’t understand why I still talk to her, other than holding out hope.

I want so many things for my mother that I not only grieve my childhood, but also her experience. She is so powerful, resilient, and intelligent, but James stunts all of that. I wish that she felt that she could stand alone, and realize that she does not need him to carry on. I wish that she could have everything that she needs and wants, just not with him.

Now, I also wish that she had those things for my own benefit as well. To have a mother who is not trapped by a narcissistic man. She has only ever fulfilled his wants and desires and prioritized him, while neglecting me. I love my mother to death, but I also resent her. All because of her love life choices. I wish things were different…

I think that I need all the time I can have away from college, so that I can focus on myself and heal. I have so many desires that I want in this world, but it feels like it will never happen. I need the strongest reminder that things are going to be okay, that I will still have a chance, and that things are not over yet. Because I have not suffered through so much for this to be the end. I deserve to be on this journey to heal and I deserve every good thing coming.

Part 1 -- Part 2

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022

4:35pm

Dear Me,

I’m at the Brookside Market today, and there’s so much on my mind. First, when I woke up this morning, Angel (oldest sister) was in a bad mood and wanted the apartment to herself. I didn’t know what to do with myself because I needed the space too, simple as that. The apartment is a safe space that shelters me from the outside, from New York City, while I am still struggling. It concerned me that she was feeling bad and I wanted to give her space, but I also wanted to talk too, we haven’t talked one-on-one much at all. 

I ended up just staying to myself and offering to make her breakfast, to which she turned down. After I ate, she talked to me about me about my spending impulses after the heels I bought as a birthday present for myself arrived. She wants me to stop being so impulsive with “indulging” myself and stop spending my money carelessly. I told her that I never learned what it means to be responsible with money and practically took advantage of the money available. She was extremely frustrated and abrasive, and went towards assuming that I expect for money to always be there. That I expect people to cover my needs while I indulge in what I want. She’s right? I guess? 

Despite whatever negative consequences come, I just move forward with asking for more money when I’m in hot water, just to put myself in the same situation over and over again. I want to be smarter with money, not only for the purpose of learning, but to be successful with the life I want to live. I just need to be more conscious of how I spend. I need to think about the bigger problems more, and really use my money for my needs, instead of thinking about my immediate wants. I need to be more forward-thinking with my money WHILE using my money to provide for myself independently, starting now. All of my basic needs are being covered, but they won’t anymore. 

She decided that she and Gem are no longer giving me money, so I have to change and provide for myself. BUT, this is not to say that I want to rely on them or take advantage of them, ever (I haven’t even been spending their money when I’m “indulging”). I still feel really bad about my actions in response to them helping me, and I don’t want to continue those actions. To Angel and Gem, I’m so sorry for unintentionally hurting you and spending money that I have and that you gave me on unnecessary things, rather than saving towards my potential apartment or my subway card. It was not smart nor respectful to do so, and I promise to take this information (even with the nasty delivery) and be smarter with my money, and to learn from this and grow from this point onward.

Part 2 Part 3