My parents decided to drop by to give me some early birthday presents. Gave me a card about loving me "unconditionally". My dad then proceeded to bitch about my hair, which I haven't cut since August when my friend shaved it. I said I get compliments on it all the time (even tho I'm gonna shave it again when it gets warm). Got two this week! And he goes, what did I not give you enough compliments when it was long?
- This is not about you, this is my hair and this is how I like it
- You constantly bitched at me about not brushing it enough and how there was always hair everywhere and threatened to cut it off when I was younger
- When I had long hair I always had it pulled up in a ponytail or a bun in a way that the people at my internship didn't even notice when I got it hacked off into a bob.
Anyways that whole convo made me think a bit and I realize I've had so many nightmares where my hair is long again and those dreams are so stressful and I'm always trying to figure out how it happened and how to cut it. Which makes me realize hair was a pretty big part of the gender dysphoria. I'm not a girl. I'm not a guy. I'm nonbinary and that's it. Now I just have to save up for top surgery (the dream).
Also my mom was like, I can't believe you're almost 30 this is terrible! And that really felt bad because like. Damb y'all are lucky I'm still here and don't know it. Like you're lucky I'm still here anyways but with... other circumstances you should be happy to see any birthday of mine.
The whole visit made me feel like shit. My dad wants me to go out to restaurants and I'm like. I went out to eat once and I'm still not totally comfortable with that. Certain situations sure but I didn't tell him that. And then he just went on and on about how I can't just live my life in fear forever and I need to enjoy my life and I can't let this (a pandemic) stop me from doing stuff. And I was like. I am enjoying my life?? Safely?? Also I don't want to go celebrate my birthday with shitty bar food that he likes. Same place he goes for his birthday. This is my birthday. And there's still a pandemic and work is hell for another week and some and I'm just fuckin tryin to not catch the plague with my shitty lungs.
And I'm fuckin excited about turning 30. I'm stoked. I'm not going to let them drag me down. Like. I never expected to make it this far in life. I don't have a plan. I haven't had one for the past 8 years probably. But I'm working on making one. I'm stable. I'm alive. I have friends. I have a job. I'm more confident. I have medication that works. I have hobbies. I'm still learning new things. I have goals. And like I said, I'm working on planning for the future. Sorta. One step at a time. I'll talk to my therapist about it lol
