I dream of tiny houses and adventures along the coast. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends.
Reality looks like a twenty three year old university grad, who wishes she could get a job in something besides for customer service.
Look into my brain and you'll find a neuro-diverse, queer, Asexual, who enjoys photography, baking, fandom, and puppies.
Drinking and writing… you know, writer things…
I’ve been unemployed for less than a week and my mom thinks that means I now have time to listen to her critiques of me and my life. Everything. From what’s in the hallways, to the way my room is cleaned, to the exact way I need to get rid of prescription papers.
I left a few clean clothes on my bed, so she sent me a passive aggressive text telling me that she had the cleaning lady skip my bed. Now she’s telling me I need to evaluate how I approach things and my life. She’s telling me I’m spending too much money on clothes when I haven’t bought any item over $8 and half my clothes have holes! She’s telling me I’m not balancing my finances right, even though the only reason I’m fucked is because I bought a non-refundable ticket for the wrong dates! And then she’s been saying she’d cover my accident ticket since my birthday two months ago as my gift, but today she changed it. So now I’m borrowing a tom of money from my parents and I know it’s going to be a mess over my head, but I don’t really have a choice at this point. And I just scream more and more because my mom can’t stop criticizing everything about me and then she just like laughs as I yell and won’t leave me alone when I ask. And so my “temper tantrums” are obviously what’s wrong with me, but she won’t look at what’s wrong with her. It feels kind of manipulative, like back when I was in high school or my sophomore summer of college. And her mood came no warning; pretty much because I’m not working. And I tell her just to leave me to deal, but she wants everything taken care of exactly her way.
Can I please take a moment to talk about closets? Like I sort of have issues with that word? It’s weird.
Like Some people just knew who they are. But for others, it takes longer. I feel like the closet is more of a wardrobe.I feel like closets insinuate that you know enough about yourself and feel confident that there’s hard labels. Wardrobes feel “softer” to me- like there’s more room for being queer and questioning or evolving or giving you time to understand your own identity. Especially as you change and the world changes.
Like you have to try on different outfits (or labels) until you find ones that for just right. Like maybe you love the first outfit or maybe it takes 10 more tries until you know? Maybe you love a top first try but it took ten tries to find a bottom. Or maybe you liked pants, but then you realize you loved skirts.
And that’s all okay! But like, sexuality has always felt more like a progression to me. That’s not to say that there aren’t tons of people for whom it’s not. That they know. That there’s a closet to come out of.
But anyway, as a queer person, I feel like the closet is more of a wardrobe…