Because I can't sleep and I've been trying to write this for a long time...

TW: Suicidal ideations. 

I just wrote a novella on the Book of faces about some bullshit anti-trans propaganda that someone I know was spreading.  I honestly don't know whether or not it was because they're "Christian" (which, I honestly don't know why anyone would want to cop to being a Christian right now with the amount of hatred, misogyny, and toxicity that's coming from certain people that are very vocal and claim to be "Christian" are spewing these days) or if they were anti-trans.  I'm hoping that it's a "Christian" thing, but the problem that I have is that they're not seeing the fact that what they're spreading is an absolute lie.  We're talking about an easily findable on a Google search kind of lie.  

I don't understand it.  I really don't.  ESPECIALLY because just two years ago the same asshats that are trying to tell me that what my wife has dealt with her entire life is a choice, that being queer or trans is a choice...  These people were sitting there screaming that they had the right NOT to take a vaccine because they didn't believe in it because it was against their personal freedom.   But women can no longer have abortions in many states, the LGBTQ community is being attacked, and the Trans Community is being destroyed.   In the state of Florida, where my wife, my children, and I live, they can take away your children if they suspect that your child could be "in danger" of receiving gender-affirming care.   They call Transgender people groomers, pedophiles, and evil.  

Right now, I should be happy.  My kids are thriving, my wife is happier than she has ever been, and we're building a guest house for my Dad to come to stay in now that he's retired.   He actually wants to be a part of and spend time with my crazy family.  He doesn't care that our kids march to the beat of their own drum.  He doesn't care that I have pink hair.  He doesn't care that Kacy is trans.  Does he misgender Kacy?  Yes, but he also misgenders the dog, calls her by the wrong name, and calls all three of the kids "Jessie" every single time he's here.  He's also 81 years old, we correct him every time, and, as much as I hate admitting this, (and him admitting this probably would never happen) he doesn't understand things as well as he used to.  But you know what?   The worst thing that my Dad has ever said about Kacy's transition is: "I don't understand it, but I guess that's not for me to understand."  

My Dad is like most Americans, I suspect - they don't give a damn about what my wife wears, what's between her legs, whether or not she wants to take hormone replacement therapy, or whether or not she wants to wear pants or a skirt today.  My Dad has never openly or outwardly judged my wife one bit for transitioning even when other people that are supposed to be "family" have.  My Dad just wants his daughter, his grandkids, and his daughter-in-law happy.  

I have always joked that my Dad raised me with the audacity of a privileged, white male.  I always thought that was hilarious.  Ha ha! Look at me!  I'm not a Karen, my balls are too big to be a Karen!  I could get just as loud as any man (louder, if I'm being honest) and lately, I've been channeling that inner white male more and more just to get through my day.    Let me just take you through a trip out and about for me and Kacy... let me show you how it is when someone you love is Trans.   We'll use our recent trip to Home Depot as our example here. 

We were shopping for a new stove because our current one finally gave up the ghost.  We had narrowed it down to a couple of choices, but both Kacy and I wanted to take a look at them in-store.  So, off to Home Depot we went.  Just walking into the store a couple of people were gawking at us.  This is nothing new to me.  I notice it more and more, especially since I dyed my hair pink.  Kacy says we are more "clockable" as a queer couple with my hair.  I personally don't give a shit if I'm clockable as queer or not, I simply wanted pink hair.  I have wanted pink hair for a while and I finally said fuck it and dyed my hair pink.  It looks fucking fantastic, too.  BUT when you've got pink hair and you're with a 6'3" woman that has a very strong jaw?  Yeah, people stare.   Hell, anyone would get stared at if they were 6'3"!  We make quite the pair when we're out and about.  

Whenever we go out I am hyper-vigilant.  I am constantly looking around, checking to see if someone's going to try and make me and my wife go viral for all the wrong reasons.  I never allow her to go into the restroom without me if I can help it and I go with her into the bathroom and usher her into a stall before I go into my own.  I try and use the facilities as quickly as possible so I then can stand guard against any potential Karens that may come out of the woodwork.  

Our trip to Home Depot?  It was uneventful, we were having a fairly relaxing time until the transaction was finally winding down and the clerk that was dealing with the order and setting up delivery asked something about my "husband."  I instantly corrected her.  "Wife.  My wife."  Normally, I would have added a please or I would have just ignored it, but I've been salty lately.  There are certain people in this country that have gotten my ire up.  

The clerk instantly corrected herself and apologized, making some excuse "I'm so sorry, I'm just used to it being husband and wife here."  She blew it off.  She tried to be nice about it, but it just came off as dismissive.

My wife, my beautiful wife (and I know I'm biased), was standing there next to me.  I'm dressed in a grungy tank top and leggings covered in dog fur, hair in a top knot badly in need of a cut and color, no make-up and she's standing there, all 6'3" looking more woman than I could have possibly mustered that particular day. Everything was on point - the hair, the makeup, the clothes, the Coach purse, and this clerk still misgendered her.  

A week later and I'm still dealing with the emotional fallout. It's not just her emotions, either.  It's mine as well.  Overall, I have gone from a happy-go-lucky manic pixie to Mad-Eye Moony, screaming "Constant vigilance!"  Both my wife and I carry stun guns in our purses and I have been formulating an exit strategy, even going so far as having my Dad in the loop, letting him know that we might need help if we have to leave the state quickly.  

I live in a constant state of fear.  I worry that some busybody at our children's school is going to try and have our kids taken away from us because they just don't like trans people and think by just being trans, that's a form of child abuse.   Whenever we walk into a building, I always know where the nearest exit is and I will even admit that I've catastrophized what I may need to do to get Kacy out safely.  I have even thought about arming myself with more than just a stun gun.   My Dad has talked about building us a fence because "the police can't come on your property without a warrant and a gate will stop them." 

When we moved to Florida I was looking forward to doing all of these fun, outdoorsy things.  We live a hop, skip and jump away from some amazing springs, kayaking, beaches.  I love swimming, and I would love to learn how to snorkel, I want to go scalloping.  Hell, I would love a simple day at the beach with a good book and a bucket so I can build a sand castle.  I can't do that. 

I can't do that because I wouldn't enjoy it without my family.  Sure, I could go just me or just me and the kids, but I want to spend time with my wife.  I love my wife.  I want to go out and about with my wife.  I want to have a normal, happy, fun time with my wife doing normal couple things without people staring or being judgemental asshats.  

Think about that - you want to spend a day with your family but you can't because you're afraid that you could potentially be injured or worse.  You want to spend a day with your family, but whenever you go out people gawk at you, whisper about you right in front of you, point, and laugh... 

I'm not afraid to admit that I have had suicidal ideations and have thought about how I would end my life. It's hard when you have a day where people are exceptionally cruel, wanting to just say fuck it all and end it. I remember sitting on the floor of the shower, water pouring down on me, shaking uncontrollably, gasping for breath, thinking that if I did not exist, the pain that I felt would not exist.  It was at that moment that, believe it or not, I felt clarity.  

It was at that moment that not only did I understand that what I was feeling was very much not right.  It was in that moment and the days and months that followed that I realized that I wasn't the only one carrying this around.  Kacy had been carrying the exact same feeling her entire life.  That was also when I think we truly started understanding each other.  

It has been a process to getting back to some semblance of "average."  I say average because normal is in the eye of the beholder.  We have our routine, our house is ridiculously harmonious and we're putting down roots, despite the possibility of having to flee.   We love our home and really don't want to leave it.  I am hoping that as a country we do the right thing and I hope that the people who have been hateful realize that there is no right way to human.   

I just hope that we get the opportunity to be whatever human we want to be and I'm going to fight like hell for EVERYONE to be allowed to be who they want to be - even the hateful fucks out there that want to end me and mine.