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Cloudless fucking sky. Cant remember the precise moon face but have remembered the sky studying happen. Early summer, northern hemisphere. Some of the best skies he'd ever seen. We told him the weather isnt always this good.
How much could you not believe it bro that could say and do whatever you wanted. Or maybe not but if you did something you werent supposed to you were talked to about it.. maybe had to do extra chores.. You were waiting for the rest.. No thats it. Not everywhere and not always of course but they wont hurt you but we might need to stop you saying certain things in certain places or it could fuck up the whole thing.
Remembering so much more about mum dressing as women and how much it broke her heart when she had to go back to being "male". The way she cried whenever she had to change back and take it all off every single time. Think seeing how badly you seemed to not get it, that it wasn't DID this was different we saw better the ways or times we had maybe failed to get it. She wouldn't have her saying we had failed her because we were kid but we felt like we had so badly but it was usually over something we hadnt done or said anyway. During that summer did you not going from being a horribly conditioned transphobe to getting it and being able to talk about it way better than us and it really bugged.
Mum explained that was because we were non binary which meant we were a bit like her in that we were outside of the "norm" some ways and also completely not. There were tears sometimes before she got it wasn't that we didnt want to see her in make up because she had a male body it was because we didnt want to see any body in make up. We associated make up with abuse and abusers and we hated the way women act like women and men like men and hate the fact we refer to each other in gendered grammar.. But we could see and feel how important to it was. It felt like the differences in us when they made forget or pretend our dad wasn't our dad or she wasn't our mum. By forcing her to not be a 'she' they were making sure she couldn't feel herself and we knew that meant all her instincts, her critical thinking and everything would never be what it could be.
Basically is she needs to wear to skirt and lip gloss to shoot straighter (and we tested this) then she needs be in a skirt and lip gloss all the time. We were logical kid we so we really didnt get that she hated the skirt, we would of struggled to identify one skirt from another. Looking back now it was quite nasty and indeed not just in ways that all skirts are, long with pastels shades, maybe flowers.. We had gone through all sorts, we survived the compound and escaped my mother with this man so when we saw the way he was breathing when he put on that skirt we got how serious a deal this was. We had to ration the razors for her face nevermind her legs.
We did have shoes but there wasnt much point taking them out on the woods and fields so she went barefoot. When they were handed over we said she would probably going bitch about that and then felt guilty about when we should them what we had managed to get because she just wept like all her Christmases had come. When we started calculating and comparing the scores we went and got them and stuck them on her as she was on the ground on the rifle range. He was so happy, in the grass and the earth, in the ridiculous skirt and unmatching shoes and hairy legs. The way she smiled at us as we walked back to along a tractor track to the buildings that were just descent sized sheds and a wooden outside toilet as the dusk was setting in holding hands and swinging our arms, carrying the shoes in his other hand.
She got more enthusiastic about the testing when she saw the scores and the differences to.
The fact that we didn't get it was irrelevant. We loved not getting it sometimes but we were harder on ourself sometimes for not being either for feeling so scared of gendered behaviours and clothes, so scared that if we would loose a part of ourself if we behaved feminine or masculine. Think she said, "it's not like the wind is going to change and you will be stuck like that" and laughed because we saw how ridiculous it was.
Sometimes we would pretend we were feeling that way just so she would reassure us again. That's our mum, that bit has never felt complicated even before either of us had any words that weren't designed to keep us dissociated.
How much could you not believe it bro that could say and do whatever you wanted. Or maybe not but if you did something you werent supposed to you were talked to about it.. maybe had to do extra chores.. You were waiting for the rest.. No thats it. Not everywhere and not always of course but they wont hurt you but we might need to stop you saying certain things in certain places or it could fuck up the whole thing.
Remembering so much more about mum dressing as women and how much it broke her heart when she had to go back to being "male". The way she cried whenever she had to change back and take it all off every single time. Think seeing how badly you seemed to not get it, that it wasn't DID this was different we saw better the ways or times we had maybe failed to get it. She wouldn't have her saying we had failed her because we were kid but we felt like we had so badly but it was usually over something we hadnt done or said anyway. During that summer did you not going from being a horribly conditioned transphobe to getting it and being able to talk about it way better than us and it really bugged.
Mum explained that was because we were non binary which meant we were a bit like her in that we were outside of the "norm" some ways and also completely not. There were tears sometimes before she got it wasn't that we didnt want to see her in make up because she had a male body it was because we didnt want to see any body in make up. We associated make up with abuse and abusers and we hated the way women act like women and men like men and hate the fact we refer to each other in gendered grammar.. But we could see and feel how important to it was. It felt like the differences in us when they made forget or pretend our dad wasn't our dad or she wasn't our mum. By forcing her to not be a 'she' they were making sure she couldn't feel herself and we knew that meant all her instincts, her critical thinking and everything would never be what it could be.
Basically is she needs to wear to skirt and lip gloss to shoot straighter (and we tested this) then she needs be in a skirt and lip gloss all the time. We were logical kid we so we really didnt get that she hated the skirt, we would of struggled to identify one skirt from another. Looking back now it was quite nasty and indeed not just in ways that all skirts are, long with pastels shades, maybe flowers.. We had gone through all sorts, we survived the compound and escaped my mother with this man so when we saw the way he was breathing when he put on that skirt we got how serious a deal this was. We had to ration the razors for her face nevermind her legs.
We did have shoes but there wasnt much point taking them out on the woods and fields so she went barefoot. When they were handed over we said she would probably going bitch about that and then felt guilty about when we should them what we had managed to get because she just wept like all her Christmases had come. When we started calculating and comparing the scores we went and got them and stuck them on her as she was on the ground on the rifle range. He was so happy, in the grass and the earth, in the ridiculous skirt and unmatching shoes and hairy legs. The way she smiled at us as we walked back to along a tractor track to the buildings that were just descent sized sheds and a wooden outside toilet as the dusk was setting in holding hands and swinging our arms, carrying the shoes in his other hand.
She got more enthusiastic about the testing when she saw the scores and the differences to.
The fact that we didn't get it was irrelevant. We loved not getting it sometimes but we were harder on ourself sometimes for not being either for feeling so scared of gendered behaviours and clothes, so scared that if we would loose a part of ourself if we behaved feminine or masculine. Think she said, "it's not like the wind is going to change and you will be stuck like that" and laughed because we saw how ridiculous it was.
Sometimes we would pretend we were feeling that way just so she would reassure us again. That's our mum, that bit has never felt complicated even before either of us had any words that weren't designed to keep us dissociated.
