Kia ora fabulous siblings!
As many of you know, I have for years suffered from discrimination, abuse, exclusion, and violence — often from members of the trans community itself, who have been fed bulls--t claims about me, which is discrimination based on stigma which itself arose from discrimination.
I was forced to flee Canada, where fascists had made my life literally unsurvivable, back to my birth country of New Zealand. I was hoping the violence and lies would end there, but alas — in a five week period starting in December, I suffered
nine TYPES of assaults, I lost count of the number of incidents. This was in Nelson, at the northern tip of the South Island; a place of breathtaking natural beauty and home to many many wonderful people — but also to a minority of the nastiest and most hardcore transphobes that I have ever encountered.
CW: ragingly transphobic events in the next paragraph
I was verbally assaulted; physically assaulted for purchasing office supplies while trans; sexually assaulted; suffered weaponisation of the law when a really disgustingly selfish person falsely claimed I assaulted them; made homeless by that; medically abused by Nelson Hospital whose "Crisis Assessment Team" (read: crisis amplification team) ignored self-harm happening right before their faces; that same hospital, after telling me that I could sleep in an emergency department room, and watching me take my medication including progesterone, instead threw me out in the middle of the night while still sedated; ordered to not use women's toilets in the boarding-house-cum-concentration-camp Franklyn Village; evicted for same (human rights case for up to $6500 damages is in progress, the lawyer is one of the lovely person here); refused a room that was available at Palace Backpackers because, as the owner said to my face, "You deserve what you get, dropped on your head as a toddler and have a penis and think you're a girl"; misgendered uncountable times.... Ugh!
Okay, CW section ends.
On the 15th I was finally able to fly to Wellington. I have been at Trek Global Backpackers in Te Aro, in the centre of the city near the legendary Cuba Street queer community. On my first Friday night I went dancing at Ivy Nightclub and connected with an amazing gang of queerdos. When Ivy closed at 3, we went on to Minibar until 4.
I spent a couple of evenings at the Gardens Magic festival dancing myself delirious to rock and jazz music, and met the emcee of the event, drag star Polly Filla!
I am looking for housing in Newtown, the section of the city that is home to Gender Minorities Aotearoa — who are fantastic and wonderful, and gave me a shopping bag to fill with free clothing from Aunty Dana's Op Shop. I will be volunteering there, you bet I will!
Yesterday afternoon I went to a Munch for polyamorous people, and afterwards went to the heart of Cuba Street and decompressed, breathing, listening to the beautiful music of a street guitarist. When they paused after a song, I went and thanked them, and told them a little bit of what I have been through, and how grateful I am to finally be somewhere safe where I am appreciated. They looked so moved, and thanked me for sharing, and I put a dollar in their guitar case and went back to the bench and had a little cry. It was all so good.
I bought a used laptop which will be delivered soon. When it arrives, I will start working on
The Weak Anthropic Everettian, my autobiography. This book will be completely honest, as true as I can make it, and I expect no one will believe a single word. People have told me for years to write my story, but I never could because my life was a downward spiral that would have made an awful story.
But I think now I can see a dénouement; a chance to live with authenticity and love and safety. And I have two years of supported living, to recover from all the trauma, and to write my book.
I love you all!
