[PERSONAL | MY DAY] Daily Updates #21, #22, #23, #24

Warning: I most likely will not be editing these posts, so please forgive any mistakes I make.

I clearly have become really bad at getting these updates on time. A lot of the reason is because all you’re going to hear from me is how I failed doing what I set out to do. August is pretty much halfway over at this point. I barely got any artwork done, my website I also barely touched. Can I catch up? Yes, definitely. Do I want to catch up? Um…

That’s probably the bigger question. Do I want to catch up? I suppose right now, the answer is not right now. I want to sometime in the future, but not right now. I don’t mind doing the things I set out to do occasionally right now, but trying to sit down and just do them is still really hard. I’m still far away from where I want to be in a lot of aspects and having this constant string of tiredness and bad feeling isn’t helping.

I think part of the problem too is I have too much I want to do and instead of blocking out set time, I just kind of do whatever I want. It’s getting me somewhere, but not in the time I want to get there.

Overall though, I feel like everything has been pretty boring and nothing is worth reporting. Do you guys really want to hear about how badly I have been getting anxiety? How I hate where I look and I’m starting to take steps to get out, but not at the rate I want to? What about the trip I took with my boyfriend’s mother, who only ended up making me feel bad and reminded me of the parts I despise about humanity?

I suppose I could talk about that.

I could also talk too about how I ate too healthy tonight and now I feel kind of sick because I ate too healthy and really want to eat some junk food to balance it out, but I’m too tired to go downstairs and get some water to drink alongside it.

How about how I just want to sit down and watch My Little Pony season 5, ignoring pretty much everything else?

All those things I could talk about. Is it really worth talking about though?

I wish this ongoing tiredness would end. It’s such a hindrance to my goals and dreams.

…okay, let me stop being lazy and I’ll tell you about my past few days, if I can even remember them. My memory has been almost non-existent thanks to how tired I feel.

Alright, so from Monday to Wednesday, I have seen Hurricane. I can’t really remember quite what happened. All I remember is that I was really whiny, I cried a lot, and I was super snuggly & clingy. I really wanted nothing more than to lay down with him, snuggle, and sleep. I love him. I actually recall retrying to stay over his house a couple times, but instead, I just had him hang out with me all day and we hung out for a bit at his house at night. I miss him so much…

Okay, the exception to that was Wednesday. On Wednesday, I got invited to go to pizza by him and his mother. It was kind of nice, but it felt really weird that we couldn’t really be all over each other (Hurricane won’t act lovey-dovey with me in front of his parents). After that, we went to Marshall’s and this is really where my anxiety began.

I’m gender fluid. I usually identify as a “guy” leaning more towards the “neutral” portion of the spectrum, although occasionally I will identify as a “girl”. My gender expression is normally for my guy side — my layered hair that is almost shoulder length, often spiked at the very top; my graphic t-shirts underneath a button up shirt with rolled sleeves; a pair of nice jeans teamed up with a pair of Converse. It’s how I feel most comfortable presenting myself to the outside world and how I feel most comfortable inside myself. I LOVE how I look! I LOVE how I feel! I LOVE ME.

However, when people don’t know I’m gender fluid and I lean towards a “guy”, I start to get tense. Even when people think I’m a “tomboy” (YUUUUUUUCK), I get tense. They start to make suggestion for girly things. When I refuse, they try to push for me to “try it” and try to convince me that I’ll “look good” (looking good does NOT always equate to FEELING good).

Even right now, I’m starting to get really tense.

I should probably just point out that there is NOTHING WRONG with being a girl NOR is there anything wrong with being a tomboy.

What IS wrong is to refer to me as such when I am NOT.

A lot of times too, these situations end up leaving me feeling really conflicted because I am, after all, gender fluid. I feel disgusted when people refer girly things to me, yet I know occasionally I am a girl.

When that does happen, I do ask why and I realize that I personally have a LARGE distinction between my girl side/guy side. My guy side (as well as my 100% neutral side) are more modern in clothing and don’t really like to stand out, but still like to look good in their own eyes. My girl side prefers things that are more showy, handmade, and designed by me. If I didn’t sew it, I don’t want it.

Okay, so why am I talking about this?

Well, during Marshall’s, after we picked up my shoes (my wonderful unisex Converse that were kind of hard to find), his mother told me I could pick out socks and clothes. I kind of froze up because not only do I feel kind of bad and awkward about it, but I also don’t wear woman’s clothes purchased from the store. If I sew it, that’s okay, but if it’s from the store, noooope. (A majority of that is as I described above; however, another part of it is that woman’s clothing are made so small and so short and I HATE how they fit me.)

I kind of stood there and she kept (wow, I’m going cold recounting this) pulling stuff off the woman’s rack (she kept trying to tell me that it “wasn’t woman’s; it was clearance”…it was woman’s clearance) and telling me I should “try them”. I would “look good” in them. She talked about how she’s “going to change me” and that my mom “would be so surprised”. She showed me tank tops she thought would look good on me. She showed me t-shirts she thought would look good on me. She kept urging me to try them. She tried to tell me they would look good on me because I “have a small chest”.

I kept refusing.

It kind of reminded me of a time before I realized I was gender fluid and my mother was trying to make me dress more like a “girl”. I never actually felt comfortable in “girl” clothes, other than nightgowns. Even when I used to wear skirts and had favourite ones, something always felt very off. I remember my mom occasionally get VERY mad at me for wearing my baggy, plain sweatshirts and jeans; she wanted me to put on something nicer.

The difference is though that once I realized I was gender fluid and would feel better in men’s clothes, my mom accepted it. In fact, she was super happy! She let me get clothes at EXPRESS MEN and was so excited because she could finally buy someone all those nice clothes!

Hurricane’s mother isn’t really like that though.

She’s really pushy until you cave and say “yes”. I managed to stand my ground, but not with some damage to my armour.

I did let her in on that I personally don’t wear woman’s clothes unless *I* sew them. She then remarked for the billionth time “you sew?”…YES, I SEW. How many times do I have to tell you that?! She got a bit excited and thought I should sew myself a blouse (I was a bit disgusted at the thought of a modern blouse; that’s when I mentioned I more like 18th/19th century styles). Then she thought I should sew a blouse for her. I’m cool with that.

I grabbed a pair of socks from the men’s department. On the way back, I saw a nice men’s button up shirt with stars all over it. I kind of wish the colour scheme was inverted (it’s white with black stars; I wish it was the opposite), but I still liked it! I wasn’t sure if his mother was going to go for me getting that for just myself, so I found one in Hurricane’s size and proposed me and him to have matching outfits!

I also told her too that I’m a disappointing daughter and more like a stylish son. Her facial expression remained pretty neutral, surprisingly. We paid for everything and left to go find Hurricane.

On the way out, waiting for him, some of these following conversations occurred, further upsetting me:
– how important it is for them to “look good” in their culture
– how Hurricane’s father wanted a Hurricane to have a “sexy girl with a flat belly who called him ‘daddy'” (all things I am not and don’t do)
– she gave me “a tip” that when a girl with “nice hair” and a “nice body” walks by, Hurricane likes them and said I should try look like that (a.k.a. she was telling me I have to change myself in order to keep Hurricane; I don’t know about you, but if a girl I thought was hot walked by me, I would look at her too)
– she kept telling me I should “lose weight” and “go to the gym”; she retorted to my protests with her “doctor said it’s not healthy” and something about the heart; at one point I told her I believe (I should have really said “I know”) I will lose weight without trying to; if I try to it will NOT happen. I also told her I’m happy with my weight. She told me I should lose it and I said no and we kept going back and forth until I accidentally said what she said and she was like “see! see! you want to lose weight!” with a smile…which really hurt and I’ll explain more in a bit…

As you can probably see, the ENTIRE TIME I was with her EVERYTHING was either a.) about changing me OR b.) focused on looks. These both appalled me and grossly upset me.

She was telling me I had to be a skinny, sexy object of attraction. I wasn’t allowed to be myself. I wasn’t allowed to express myself the way that feels best to me. No, I had to be what basically the whole of society thinks I should be.

Thank you, thank you so much for reminding me how much I HATE society. I HATE how it seems like gender stereotypes are 100% based off of PHYSICAL sexual attraction and PHYSICAL sexual desire. Girls gotta be skinny with big boobs. Men have to have a six pack and look good shirtless. It’s like to her, and so, so, SO many other people, we humans literally have to make ourselves look stupid just for the sake of attracting other people to ourselves. I can’t even joke and be like “oh, I wasn’t aware we’re like a Peacock” or some other animal species that looks gaudy to attract mates because our silly, disgusting animal species of humans tailors themselves to suit OTHER PEOPLE’S EXPECTATIONS.

I can’t tell you how many times in my life somebody has asked me why I don’t do something in relation to getting a partner. My response is always the same: if they don’t love me for who I am, then they are not worth being with.

If you can’t accept my quirks, my flaws, my perfections, my personality, my interest, or anything that adds up to the person I am, then you are not worth my time.

Just going back to the weight thing for a moment, I’m going to say: yes, I’m well aware that being overweight is a bad thing unless you’re like, ten pounds overweight of what you’re “suppose” to be (which in that case, you’re better off). However, being aware that something is “healthy” or “unhealthy” is generally not a motivator for me. I honestly really don’t care.

A lot of people hate when I say that and like to tell me that’s not a good way to think…but it’s not so much a way I think, but how I feel. If I genuinely don’t care whether or not something is health for me, I’m not going to change it. It might have long term consequences, but oh freakin’ well. I CHOSE this. I CHOSE it.

I remember one of my friends was trying to convince me to drink tea after I told her I don’t like tea. One of her “reasons” to drink tea was because “it was healthy”. Maybe I would put that under a “benefit” or a “bonus” of drinking tea, but not a reason to!

My reason for not drinking tea? I hate how it tastes! I literally always feel like I’m drinking a popsicle stick. It does not matter what flavour, what brand, if it’s completely homemade with dry herbs or whatever…it’s all nasty to me. I have even tried putting in honey, sugar, and milk into all of it (try ’em separate, then mix together since it still didn’t work.)  It’s also a type of flavoured water. Everybody I talk to likes to deny that, but if you add it to water to give it flavour, it’s flavoured water. And I hate flavoured water. Nasty.

The weight thing is similar to that.

On top of that…

Well, let me go back to my ~school days~ where I would often complain about my weight. I wouldn’t do anything about it and when I did, I always failed. There’s a million reasons why I always did. However, I noticed one thing about all my complaining…it stemmed from someone else complaining about my weight! Someone else having a problem with my belly!

Like, no wonder I always failed! I had no heart in it!

I probably should have known this because it was always everybody else who was saying something about my weight and I went along with it. However, it wasn’t until a friend who was listening to me complain about my weight, criticized me based off the eating habits they saw during a short visit with me (which wasn’t really reflective of my actual eating habits), that I woke up and realized what I already knew all along: I am content.

Since then, I haven’t complained about my weight. It became far more apparent too that everybody else was the one complaining about it, not me. As far as I’m personally concerned, I’m more beautiful and royal with it. You may disagree, but that’s fine.

Being commented about how I should “lose weight” just reminds me of a time I was oblivious that my desire to lose weight hadn’t been my own. It reminds me of the occasional comments people close to me give me that aren’t so direct, but more like a theory or a distant wish.

I also get reminded of all the people out there who have eating disorders because they believe they are fat, based off comments of other people. They desire to be skinny, even if they are already skinny. They strive to be skinnier. It’s really heartbreaking…

Anyway, back to the mall, I showed Hurricane the shirt and he was upset by it. I actually had a feeling he wouldn’t like it, but I chose to ignore it. I walked with him for a bit and we decided to return the shirt. I thought about returning mine too, but him and his mother told me to keep it.

I spent time with him while his mother went to Forever 21. She tried to give me some bracelets. I refused, but she gave them to me anyway. She accepted I didn’t want them after she watched me to struggle to put it on.

I’m honestly really picky with jewelry and don’t really like to wear it. Bracelets feel like shackles and necklaces, no matter how loose, often feel like they are choking me. Rings irritate my fingers. I have to fiddle with everything to keep it semi-comfortable. It’s not fun, so I just avoid those things all together unless I find something that feels comfortable on me.

We stopped by Burger King on the way home and I got my car and went off to work.

I ended up fighting internally about everything Hurricane’s mother had said to me, because it hurt. Not because I agree with it and was in denial, but because I had to hide myself and the shallowest parts of humanity were showing themselves to me. Even right now, I’m still fighting it.

I’m somebody where I try not to judge. I actually would argue I’m actually fairly neutral and I tend to stay away from judging someone without knowing them first. However, once I get to know them, I make my verdict on them and will be done with it unless they show me another side that I didn’t know before.

I’m considering staying away from his mother until she learns to be less judgey, as well as less pushy (I really hate pushy people). I do like her, but I think she might be the one who needs the change, not me. At least I don’t in the sense she wants me to.

I’m still really disgusted and upset she wants me to change and then she proceeded to make me feel bad about who I am. Thanks, Mama. Thanks for that.

After I went to work, I worked on my comic storyboard (I think I storyboarded like…8 pages). It was AWESOME! I also researched Archangel Gabriel because his name kept popping into my head for some reason. I found out that he’s an angel associated with motherhood, child-caring, communication, and more importantly, the arts! I actually think I kept hearing his name for inspiration and motivation with my projects, because later that night, I had more energy than I knew what to do with for everything I wanted to accomplish.

Bad thing? I had so much energy, I kept getting really confused on what to do, but also sleep in time.

Then we get to today. Which I guess would be yesterday?

I didn’t do any storyboarding today. Instead, I responded to an e-mail about a job interview for tomorrow (which is technically now today, but I haven’t slept yet) that I’m SUPER EXCITED about. I also slept as late as I could and got up and didn’t really do anything productive.

After work, I stopped by the Walmart close to me to pick up my dinner ingredients (I decided to go with veggie tacos). Before I left, I went to the Monster High section like I always do. There was a young woman there, looking at the dolls. We quickly got into a conversation and I took the opportunity to introduce myself and she introduced herself: her name is Kaitlin. We hung out together, talking about Monster High all the way to check out. We friended each other on Facebook, exchanged numbers, and texted each other (with fang-tastic Monster High puns (see what I did there?)). I’m hoping we get to meet up again; it’ll be awesome to have someone to geek out at Monster High at!

She’s cosplayed both Frankie and Holt, both which looked AWESOME on her! It was super cool seeing her dressed up like that!! It reminds me on how I would love to do a Monster High cosplay one day…but as who…hmm…

Then I came home, made my food, watched some My Little Pony season 5 (I’ve been watching it since yesterday; it’s on Netflix now), and then decided to write this entry.

I’m really tired right now, so I should probably go to sleep.

However, I have one thing left to do for my own person requirements of the day.

…okay, I should really be doing commissions and stuff too, but I’m too tired and too time restrained for that (I got a job interview later today, you know).

Good night, everybody! I hope this update was alright (I probably said too much, huh).

Oh..I guess something else for thought: why is it so hard for people to accept things they don’t quite understand? Like, when I say I’m gender fluid or I don’t like wearing girls clothes or wearing make up or something, why can’t people just go “oh, okay” and just accept it?