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I Found My Home On Tumblr

By : February 7, 2021 Comments Off
Sixth grade. It was in sixth grade when I finally figured out why I felt different. As a kid, I was either labeled a tomboy or people blamed my behavior on the influence of my brother. I was just a kid, but I found myself considering self-harm to cope with this feeling of “not being like the other girls.'' Thinking about it now, I can’t see how my little sixth-grade brain thought that it didn't want to live another day feeling like this. I just wanted to feel normal, but couldn't for the life of me figure out how to do that. Finally, I came across this website called Tumblr. I know the younger me thought I was so edgy. While scrolling randomly for hours on end, distracting myself from
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Not Always Thicker Than Water

By : January 4, 2021 Comments Off
If you’re anything at all like me, you might view the concept of family as one, big, nebulous, complicated substance of nonsense and multifaceted anxieties.  Hearing through the grapevine that my family collectively voted for conservative candidates, ones who openly vilified trans-positive legislation, was a blow to the chest. How on Earth was I supposed to come out to these people now?  The ostrich-style solution I came up with was to simply not do it, and I opted for avoiding them all instead, indefinitely.  That takes a toll on you, though. At least it did for me. It’s so much easier said than done to cut off family members who you know would give you the, “Well, we love you, but we can’t support this lifestyle choice,” spiel. For better
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Amorphous

By : November 14, 2020 Comments Off
Despite having not spoken to her in months, my mother had found out about my engagement. I remember not even being surprised. My family  collectively has a big mouth, which first became evident when my mother outed me to every person who would listen to her once I came out as bisexual my freshman year of high school -  and every iteration of my coming-out since - and later was solidified when my entire extended family found out about my suicide attempt before I was even out of the hospital. I hadn’t spoken to my mother in several years at that point. I wonder if she knows about the attempt. But when she came to my graduation, she congratulated me on my engagement, even though that was the first time
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Cutting Ties

By : October 12, 2020 Comments Off
I miss my mom when I eat angel hair pasta or hear Martina McBride playing. I miss her when my friends talk about spending time with their moms. I cried the other day at my best friend's house when her mom asked us if we would help her set up for a dinner party. I stood in their kitchen with tears running down my face because that was something my mom always used to ask me to help with.  My mom and I are working on our relationship. In the first fifteen years of my life, we were best friends. I loved her more than anything in the world. I thought she was perfect, flawless, invincible. It’s a really strange feeling when you grow up and realize that your parents
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My Mother: A Haunting

By : September 9, 2020 Comments Off
my mother is all silk skin and broken knuckles. when i was younger, i would count the wrinkles on her fingers and the lines across her palm. i wanted to know why she had more lines than i did. i never figured it out. my mother is all soft rain and wet grass. her hair hangs to the base of her neck and her smile stretches to the left more than to the right. i think mine stretches more to the right. my mother doesn’t like things out of order. every nail polish, every empty shoe box, every ripped open envelope has its place.  even people had a place. she taught me the importance of silence, the value behind a closed door and i had practiced so much that even
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One Foot In The Closet

By : September 9, 2020 Comments Off
“God,” I thought, “I really wish I could share my acceptance into the Writer’s Cohort with my family.” I had already told everyone else important to me. As with all the happenings in my life, I told my lovely partner first, who I owe both my morning laughter and my bedtime stories to. He was delighted to hear the news and will probably be just as delighted to read of his mention in my first, but certainly not last piece for MyUmbrella. Next, I told my therapist and friends, whose resounding praise still rings in my ears as I sit and write. Two important people are somehow always missing when I try to tell the story of my queer experience: my parents.  My parents were born in 65’ in the
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