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Dear Mike
Here's a letter I just sent to an old and formerly very dear friend of mine. I am shaking. This hurts me more than I can tell you. Good-bye, Mike. I hope you have a good life and that you find happiness some day.
Dear Mike,
I've been out to you for almost a year now. In fact, it'll be a year on the 28th of August. In that time you have made it abundantly clear that you don't and won't accept Travis and me as the people we are. Your actions betray your intentions. You call me, "Bruce". You call Travis, "Grace". You misgender us constantly. I don't understand why this is difficult for you, but it really doesn't matter at this point.
You and I have been friends for about seventeen years, Mike. Over those years I have come to think of you as a brother in life, if not in blood. We've shared many happy times together, but now it seems you're putting yourself and your comfort ahead of me and my happiness. And that hurts like you wouldn't believe. I won't be returning your calls, Mike, because hearing you say my old name is a dagger in my heart. You can't even afford me this tiny bit of respect? On the 2nd of September, my name will be changed legally. My parents—both conservative Christians and staunch Republicans—have accepted me and call me Carla. So why can't you? I think it would be best if you stop trying to contact me, unless you think you can begin to accept us as the people we truly are and treat us with simple human respect.
Dear Mike,
I've been out to you for almost a year now. In fact, it'll be a year on the 28th of August. In that time you have made it abundantly clear that you don't and won't accept Travis and me as the people we are. Your actions betray your intentions. You call me, "Bruce". You call Travis, "Grace". You misgender us constantly. I don't understand why this is difficult for you, but it really doesn't matter at this point.
You and I have been friends for about seventeen years, Mike. Over those years I have come to think of you as a brother in life, if not in blood. We've shared many happy times together, but now it seems you're putting yourself and your comfort ahead of me and my happiness. And that hurts like you wouldn't believe. I won't be returning your calls, Mike, because hearing you say my old name is a dagger in my heart. You can't even afford me this tiny bit of respect? On the 2nd of September, my name will be changed legally. My parents—both conservative Christians and staunch Republicans—have accepted me and call me Carla. So why can't you? I think it would be best if you stop trying to contact me, unless you think you can begin to accept us as the people we truly are and treat us with simple human respect.
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And all of the beauty, all of the joy…they help mitigate the pain of loss. I will survive. I WILL stay alive. And I will be happy.
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That is wonderful! And you deserve to have a life free from that.
I will survive. I WILL stay alive. And I will be happy.
You will. There's a great life ahead of you.
I'm sorry for this temporary but still very real pain. *hugs*
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*hugs*
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*hugs*
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http://www.dianasdesserts.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=cookbooks.DeathByChocolate
HAH! TAKE THAT!
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I just ran to the store for a bar of Ghirardelli's "Midnight Reverie" which is 86% cacao. Good stuff. Not QUITE weapons-grade chocolate, but close enough for government work. :D
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*whimpers* I do have baking chocolate, I could make brownies, but I won't 'cause I would eat them all myself!
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No, it doesn't make it easier, but the beauty and joy of the rest of my life DOES help. :) Being surrounded by those who DO love and accept us has made my life a very happy one. And having a loving, supportive and accepting husband and girlfriend REALLY helps! <3
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