So the reason my mom is the one to inform me about my kid is she’s the only one in my actual blood line who has a relationship with her. How is that, you wonder. Well, to sum it up in a not boring fashion, there are two types of adoption, open and closed. With an open adoption all of your paperwork is open and in the public record, so should someone go looking they could find the paper trail. A closed adoption is when you cut that off and you can find nothing. So since I had an open adoption, my mom took the opportunity to have a grandkid, in an odd sorta way, so she forged a relationship with the parents and plays Grandma; as I understand it.
So this means that the kid has actually spoken to my mom about this in some fashion. The kid is also 16 now, and lives in the same city I do.
The relationship that spawned the kid was horribly abusive. Like after school special level of abusive. I could run you down a check list of warning signs and check off 90-95% of them.
Lets derail to another topic; what the fuck I am.
So my boy friend has a toddler. Sprog, the toddler, is almost 4 and female, but born to very progressive generally queer parents. Last night she let the female conditioning a-bomb go in the house and fat shamed her own dad. She’s 4, she has no way of knowing what the fuck she did, but holy fuck did it hit nerves. Her dad was still wrecked from it today. It’s something I’ve battled with my whole life, and to know that we’ve hit that age of “Little Girls” only makes me brace for worse.
The boy friend was very hurt, and surprised, and furious, that his kid would pick this up socially already at this age. Sadly, it’s right on schedule. It’s nice to imagine and play in a world where you can be an It forever, where it doesn’t matter which “side” you choose, where you can be free to be whatever the fuck you want to be without input from the outside forces, but that’s just not the world and culture we live in.
I’ve never identified as a gender. Not even at a young age. Calling myself by pronouns was a learned behavior, not something that came naturally or that I owned. I’m still an It today, I just own that more now than I ever have. Forcing kids into boxes, no matter how wide they might be, serves a purpose, I realize this. Our culture is built on binary, and often in our American Culture, to not be in that binary means you do not exist. I have learned to exist as I truly am within the binary, but it comes with a high tax. Always double thinking, always watching reactions, always being ready for the fight that is lurking behind every facade.
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