I honestly legitimately forgot to post this amidst all of the chaos that's been my life recently, but I think this is something I'm ready to share now.
TLDR: My parents put so much pressure on me that I couldn't take it anymore, so I faked a Come to Jesus moment to go back in the closet. They found out a week later, and after a few days of scrambling to get my own insurance and phone plan, I've been living out of my car ever since.
Long Version: This post for prior context:
https://www.reddit.com/r/trans/comments/1ltjesg/parents_donated_hundreds_of_dollars_of_my_clothes/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
I talked to some friends for some advice after that entire fiasco, and we all decided it would be safest for me to comply and suck up. But they weren't gonna just believe that I magically am OK with being Christian, not without God doing the magicking.
So I faked an encounter with God and I told them I was cured of my gender dysphoria, and they believed it 100%. I pretended to be legitimately interested in the Bible and its teachings, be it mundane or disgusting.
That took a heavy mental tax on me, as I've never lied about something so intrinsic to myself before. But at least I had some breathing room -
I was able to get an HRT appointment without suspicion because of it.
One day I was having a sensory overload and I was nonverbal and frozen on the couch. My mom doesn't know how to help so she ends up making things worse, she brings dad down and they both make things worse, then they thought going through my phone could help determine what's bothering me.
Obviously
I had many, many vents on my phone at that point and if they found about those it would be game over. I was able to unfreeze to fight for my phone but they had control and my fighting told them I was hiding something.
They scrolled through my phone and saw I lied about the whole thing. They were extremely mad, but also in grief at how their son was secretly pursuing this thing that will destroy him.
They were talking to me, saying things like how I'm living such a lie that I would lie to them about that (cause Ive never lied about something so integral to me before). My dad put his hand on my side and prayed to cast the evil trans demon out of me, and now I I can't be touched on my side without massive anxiety. I was frozen listening to their transphobic shpeal, but after a while I tried getting up to use the bathroom. My parents blocked me from using the bathroom until I talked to them (I was still nonverbal), but eventually they let me go.
Upon coming out they just kept going on and on about how Id rather inject myself with hormones and mutilate my body than accept what Ive been given.
I wanted to hit them so, so badly. So I did the next best thing and walked out. I walked for about 3 miles before my parents called the police on me. They were able to convince me to head back home with the assumption that I could leave the next day.
When I woke up, my phone was completely restricted and unusable. My keys were gone. If I was to stay in the house, I'd need to be car-less, phone-less, have no internet access, and no therapist. That... or I could pay for all of my own stuff (including insurance), and once the car would be signed into my name I would not be allowed back in the house. I chose the latter.
I've tried all of the local shelters numerous times, asked every friend I could for a place to stay, and told every organization I thought had a chance to help. The local shelters were full, my friends don't have room, and said organizations repeat the same resources I've tried.
As a result, I've been living out of my car for the past 10 days or so (minus one night when a friend was able to sneak me into their house the other day). Nights are too hot to sleep in most days until a few hours into the morning, so my sleep has been rather spotty.
Silver Lining: This isn't all a sob story though... I am so lucky and fortunate to have the things I do. I have a car, I have a part-time job, I have numerous sources to get the food I need, I have a loving community that, while they can't house me, they can and do support me in the ways they're able to. I have a potential full-time job lined up in the field I want to get into, I have a local coffeeshop that doesn't care if I loiter and sleep... My laptop, my partner, the people I'm building new relationships with, college, a therapy program to help with my trauma...
It would be so strange to the average person if I told them I was happier homeless. But having unsafe housing and being able to finally express myself the way I want feels so, so much better than being stuck under that roof.
I'm also so much more confident in wearing the things I want to and using public restrooms. What are they gonna do, yell at me? Assault me? Try to call the cops? I've experienced most all of that, yet here I am. I will not be silenced anymore. Loud and proud, here I stand.
The name's Penelope, alias SisAkroze. I am a trans woman living her best life. Got a problem? Suck it the fuck up. The fact of who I am doesn't care about your feelings dammit.
o
