Everyone Playing The "what Kind Of Queer Is MOST Oppressed?" Game Is Wasting Their Time On Pointless

growing up autistic / growing up gaslit

I.

this is the first lesson you learn: you are always wrong.

there is no electric hum buzzing through the air. there is no stinging bite to the sweetness of the mango. there is no bitter metallic tang to the water.

there is no cruelty in their laughter, no ambiguity in the instructions, no reason to be upset. there is no bitter aftertaste to your sweet tea, nothing scratchy about your blanket.

the lamps glow steadily. they do not falter.

II.

this is the second lesson you learn: you are never right.

you are childish, gullible, overly prone to tears. you are pedantic, combative, deliberately obtuse. you are lazy, unreliable, never on time.

you’re always making up excuses, rudely interrupting, stepping on people’s shoes. you’re always trying to get attention, never thinking about anyone else, selfish through and through.

it’s you that’s the problem. the lamps are fine.

III.

this is the third lesson you learn: you must always give in.

mother knows best. father knows best. doctor knows best. teacher knows best. this is the proper path. do not go astray.

listen to your elders, respect your betters, accept what’s given to you as your due. bow to the wisdom of experience, the education of the professional, the clarity of an external point of view.

what do you know about lamps, anyway?

something about hanging plants on the wall

reaching for the light,

aching,

twisting to contort to expectations—

well—

what looks best for the living room?

yet these are plants, living, breathing,

wilting,

dying—

for the privilege of “looking good”

and

what is that bullshit standard anyways?

attractiveness? style? beauty?

white supremacy in action, again—

over a plant?!

but yes—

(most times it seems to be yes)

so instead, maybe—

what feels best for the plant?

what supports growth the most?

when is your willingness to look good

outweighing your ability to feel good?

when did you start pulling yourself away

from feeling the light

when that’s all you’ve ever wanted?

Parents lie. The hardest thing to quit isn’t smoking, it’s loving someone you knew wasn’t good for you but couldn’t let go of.

how’s that house that raised you?

I'm not okay. Took a mental health day to do my part and make some art about it. No matter the opposition, we won't be erased. A world without trans people has never existed, and it never will! 🏳️‍⚧️

May this piece be a small light in the darkness for those in need of comfort and hope. Feel free to share/re-post elsewhere if this resonates with you. Just please make sure you include the alt text!

maybe this time picking at Textures on my skin will lead to being silky smooth

getting shot in the head probably feels soooo good for like a second

““When I was about 20 years old, I met an old pastor’s wife who told me that when she was young and had her first child, she didn’t believe in striking children, although spanking kids with a switch pulled from a tree was standard punishment at the time. But one day, when her son was four or five, he did something that she felt warranted a spanking–the first in his life. She told him that he would have to go outside himself and find a switch for her to hit him with. The boy was gone a long time. And when he came back in, he was crying. He said to her, “Mama, I couldn’t find a switch, but here’s a rock that you can throw at me.” All of a sudden the mother understood how the situation felt from the child’s point of view: that if my mother wants to hurt me, then it makes no difference what she does it with; she might as well do it with a stone. And the mother took the boy into her lap and they both cried. Then she laid the rock on a shelf in the kitchen to remind herself forever: never violence. And that is something I think everyone should keep in mind. Because if violence begins in the nursery one can raise children into violence.””

— Astrid Lindgren, author of Pippi Longstocking, 1978 Peace Prize Acceptance Speech (via jillymomcraftypants)

they should invent something transformative and rewarding that happens inside my comfort zone