im tiiied. white fragility, feeling overwhelmed, what are emotions?

anybody else tired of white folks? cis folks? responsibility?

im supposed to be packing right now. i been “supposed to be packin'” for days now. lol.

but im TIRED. tired of white people draining my energy, of cis folks feeling entitled to my name, tired of being too poor to afford the things i need, let alone the things i want.

when you’re poor and multiply marginalized, you are constantly in a state of precarity. when everything in your life is so tenuous, you do not have a lot of space to fuck up. because fuck ups cost you real shit. the other day, i overpaid my credit card bills so i didn’t have enough in my account to refill my metro card so i could get to work.

due to the fuckshit of a customer i was serving yesterday, i was over an hour late to take my afternoon meds. when my mood is relatively stable, taking it 15 minutes late results in a slight mood dip. but after the exhausting past three weeks ive had? im currently averaging a 2/10 on the daily. i spent the next four hours of work incredibly low energy, full of thoughts of self harm, and also hungry af–because my depression fogged up brain forgot to pack lunch for that day. (i don’t typically pack lunch nohow, do i look like i got lunch money and lunch energy? but i spent money i wasn’t supposed to spend on some good ass pasta from a restaurant with a name that slightly bothers me, and had wanted to eat the leftovers the next day. smfh, i can’t even feed myself).

like Ella Mai y’all i am TIIIED. I had wanted 2021 to go so much differently than how she is rn, it’s a lil ghetto (to quote a community member of mine loll). right now im struggling to put clothes into suitcases. i should be prepping for an interview for tomorrow morning, but im tryna figure out how to tell a friend im platonically in love with them. and also tryna figure out if the vibe is still the same in person, since we’ve haven’t been in person for so long. but also, emotions.

im tryna figure out how tf im gonna get all this shit im supposed to be packin to where it needs to go to begin with. im workin on a passion project that i can’t tell nobody about cuz it’s a surprise. except, i can’t work on it because i be fieldin calls left and right from my niggas at my university about the mishandling of an attack on Black Trans folx. I be tryna not sound like too much of a negro in applications, but be speakin negro to myself because im scared of losing another part of my culture. im out here tryna make playlists and take my meds on time, think about sex and not feel responsible for white women’s guilt. read a book or two. yameen?

let’s talk about that, actually. white women tears. white women’s guilt. white women’s “pain.”

white people go through shit, yeah. but white people seem to never realize that the way they operate in the world, nothing matters until it happens to them. and so when Black folx be like “fuck white people” we are not sayin “your pain is not valid.” some of us are saying, your pain is valid but so is ours and you ignored us so fuck you. some of us are saying “your pain is valid, and fuck you anyhow.” but lowkey, i feel like most of us are saying “what you are going through is ten thousand times more difficult for us, and we are still able to keep things moving. it feels so hard for you, because you don’t have as many losses as us, as often, or as intense. but we see Black bodies murdered everyday. we have our rights stolen from us from everyday. we have our lives disrespected, everyday. and it can almost always be traced back to white people. so fuck you, because none of us would be here if it weren’t for your asses.” or at least, that’s what im thinking when i say “fuck white people.”

not that i need to say this, but i have multiple white people in my life currently, and in the past, that i love and care deeply for. that i consider family, friends, even potential platonic partners (word of advice: as a QTBIPOC person, avoid gay men/men adjacent people at all costs. it’s not worth it, platonically, romantically, spiritually. ive only been hurt. gay men of color and those that are color deficient). including white women. this does not change the fact that (cis, in particular) white women are D A N G E R O U S.

White women who become teachers, particularly in communities of color, have the power to traumatize a Black or Brown kid in one second for the rest of their life. White women who have no idea how to do their fuckin jobs can have a person of color gone in seconds because they don’t like the “vibe” that they give off. White women are used to being protected, of society rushing to their aid, to defend them, to destroy for them. White women can comfortably live their lives without having to acknowledge the existence of those are not both “whyte” and a (cis) “woman.”

In other words, to be a white women is to be able to wield the sword of harm without having to think about accountability for a second. Cishet, able-bodied, affluent/ugly rich, white men may have the most direct capacity for destruction and harm of bodies, livelihoods, homes, and peace. But white women are just as dangerous, because their weapons are disguised in such a way that it can feel almost impossible to locate them as the cause of harm.

This past week, I felt responsible for a white woman’s tears. I felt responsible when she said “this is the most not okay week that i’ve ever had” (since the passing of an important community member). I felt responsible for her anxiety, her fears, her stress. And it was hard, it took a moment, but i had to ask myself, “does she feel the same for your wellbeing? for the wellbeing of your Black TGNC fam?” and the answer is, no the fuck she does not. her actions, behavior, language, and attitude towards me told it all. but i had been conditioned for so long to feel responsible for my abusers pain, frustration, anger, sadness. and so the same thing happens to anyone who is in a position of authority above me. and im unlearning it yeah, im unlearning it. because i know, no matter how fragile a white woman presents herself to be, her privilege can crush my throat in a blink of an eye.

so im carrying heaviness with me, yeah. im carrying other people’s bullshit, collecting performative displays of allyship like charms on a bracelet…but im also calling on my ancestors for guidance, for their wisdom. im also collecting moments of peace.

im overwhelmed, my body is stressed, so this was jumbled. there were coherent thoughts i meant to share, but now is not the time.

take a moment to listen to my beloved Bisexual Icon, Victoria Monét. Her new single, here. Here EP, JAGUAR, is also 🔥🔥🔥🥵🥵🥵

“Silent” Violence

[ID: “Give Us Our Flowers” Billboard from SaveArtSpace. Two dark-skinned Black Trans individuals, one thiccc with an Afro and one thin with twists in their hair, reach out to each other, placing flowers in each other’s hair. They are both kneeling in a field of flowers. Above their heads is a rainbow, with black text overlaid that reads “Black Trans People Are Sacred”]

What I’m Listening to as I’m Writing; Second Chances by Kiana Ledé ft 6lack

People in positions of power and with privileged should be more conscientious of the violence their seemingly innocuous privilege inflicts on the other privileged. What do I mean by this?

I work in retail. On the days that I am working the register I come into contact with hundreds of people a day (do all of these people really need to be out shopping during a pandemic? prolly not. especially since this is a bookstore, where most of the clientele is mid-to-upper middle class). People who have worked in retail before, or through their lived experiences have been put in the position of helping and interacting with people who can comfortably live their lives without even once acknowledging your existence, tend to be more aware of their relationship to you at the register. That does not necessarily mean that they are kinder or are better customers. But in acknowledging the fact that there is a relationship between me and you is an acknowledgment of my humanity. Too often, that is not acknowledged.

White men at the register rarely look at me. They will toss their membership card at me and sigh because I am not able to bag their merchandise at the speed of light. One cis white guy did not say a single word to me throughout the entire transaction until the very end, to yell at me for putting his change on the counter “which is dirty because so many other people touch it” and to demand that next time I deposit his change directly in his hand. The hands that were in his pockets. Wonder how I was supposed to do that.

Customers sometime receive the incorrect order or are serviced by someone who comes off as “rude” or “standoffish” and decide to take that anger and frustration out on those of us behind the register, only two days new into the job and having no idea how things are supposed to work. But the most violent interactions for me are not the people who yell the loudest or the 57 year old men who hit on me. It’s the cis white guy who throws his hand in my face as I try and offer him his receipt. It’s my cis white male manager leaning over my shoulder. It’s my cis Black male manager threatening to write me up for “raising my voice” at him, when all I was doing was answering his questioin.

These instances probably mean nothing to these people (mostly men, though I will talk about the particular violence that white women in particular can inflict). But what they are telling me, explicitly or implicitly, is to make myself smaller. That I am taking up too much space, that I am an inconvenience to them, that I am doing something wrong. That I am wrong.

It is these same people that tell me to smile more, that ask why I am so quiet, why can’t I be more bubbly and open like my other cis female coworkers, who seem to be able to let everything wash right off of them? Or even be “assertive” (or “aggressive” depending on who you ask) when appropriate? Never mind the fact that they are white, or NBPOC, or light skinned Black women with straightened hair past their shoulders. Unlike me, dark skinned with nappy, kinky hair. tragically failing at cis femininity, fat, and too poor to afford “real” work clothes, so I cycle through the same two pants and three shirts every shift.

One of the most disappointing, but classic examples of “silent” violence is being on the receiving end of negligence of cis white women. Y’know, the well-meaning Sandra Bullock type white girl who invites her Muslim friend over for dinner and the main meal is pork–she can’t believe that she forgot that you don’t eat pork! Silly her, here’s some bread.

About a week and a half ago, on Facebook I came across someone promoting a film that features “an asexual relationship” (I’m not a fan of that terminology, but whatever). I had my reservations about it–I only seen white people posting about it and white people in the trailer and on the website. I direct messaged one of the co-producers (a cis white woman) asking if there were POC involved, and she assured me that yes! there were! But that they did have “a diversity issue” and she asked me for suggestions for recruiting more POC to be involved in the project. This was my response:

[image description: white text on a purple to blue ombre background reads:

hi! I appreciate the ask.

I am not super active on social media (cuz mental health reasons) but at one point I was a part of a number of POC LGBTQ+ groups on Facebook. You could message the mods of those types of groups asking if you could promote on their pages maybe? Or post in LGBTQ groups specifically asking for BIPOC, like you said. You could also formally email LGBTQ content creators asking if they’d like to share/talk about the filnm on their platforms (jade fox & Charlie the Prophet are two youtubers that come to mind. Also maybe michael paramo (they’re ace) the founder of AZE. or any AZE contributor lol).

something I would like to note though–diversity is more than just “numbers” or how many people you have at the table when it’s time to get the word out. It can feel awkward and like you don’t know who to ask and how to ask questions when you’re looking to recruit folk when the project is mostly completed. I’m not familiar with how production went down, but having poc & people from marginalized communities involved in all steps of the process increases the likelihood of people finding out organically as they spread the word through their own communities. people love to share the work that they’ve been a part of. Less so the work that they don’t see themselves represented in.

idk if any of those ideas would be helpful, and I know you also have to manage the ask without it seeming completely transactional/like your just looking to take something from communities (which I don’t think is your intent!) none of this is meant to be rude or off putting or anything (I know tone can be misread over text lol) the ace community struggles a lot with being white washed/white facing, and so I appreciate the fact that you are thinking about making an inclusive space.]

I went into the Zoom call this past Sunday mildly annoyed that she (the producer of the film) had mispelled my name in the email, but also cautiously excited. I’m always curious to meet other ace people, particularly ace and aro people of color.

Imagine how shocked and disappointed when I realized that not only was I the only Black person on this zoom call, I was the only person of color.

My immediaite instinct was to leave, but I decided to give it a shot. And this is what I regret.

I gave a (zoom) room full of white people my time and energy on my one day off…for no reason at all. My responses to the questions asked about our lived experiences seemed to be dismissed, as they did not align with the white aces that I was in this space with. Everyone was cis, and I was the only person who introduced themselves with pronouns. Repeatedly I was cut off/forced to rush my responses. Affirmations were made when the white folk spoke to each other, but I felt incredibly vulnerable, sharing and my words seeming to resonate with…no one.

Having intentionally created and curated ace and aro specific spaces before, I know what it’s like to create a space that is affirming for everyone, regardless if we share identities or communities. But no care was taken by this cis, white, US based woman, to be inclusive of POC or non-cis community members. She clearly hadn’t done any critical thinking about her relationship to the ace community as a cis white women. When I mentioned that the asexual community is very white washed and white facing she said “I’m just now finding that out!” Like girl, I done told you.

What hurts more than being tokenized, is that I allowed myself to be. It’s probably unfair to victim blame myself, but I do it nonetheless. An extremely huge part of me is still hurting, a day later. Time after time after time again I have allowed people who did not deserve it access to my body, my energy, my soul, my intellect, my love. I shared stories with someone who clearly doesn’t get it.

I really have no words to describe the pain that I am experiencing, but I know other POC get it. Anybody who has been more than qualified for a job but was rejected because “their accent is too difficult to understand” knows this feeling. Of not being valued, even when you know your worth. You know you have value, that you are important, capable, and deserving and respected. What that white girl doesn’t realize is the level that she disrespected me. She may feel a little bad, but is probably like “damn I just lost a diversity point” because to her this is all still a numbers game. I’m like a collectible that she done lost. But it’s fine, because I wasn’t really needed anyay.

I tried to explain this to a white friend of mine, and she didn’t really get it. Which is what it is, but I was already feeling so hurt that this was a disappointment that I couldn’t really bear. Because the amount of energy that it takes for me to communicate with white people right now is more than I have to give. And so I won’t.

The “silent” violence that cis men, cis women, white people, cis white women, have inflicted on me and countless others is ingrained into our skin. Those of us who are able to spend our entire lives trying to unlearn the warped sense of self these experiences cause, and learn to love ourselves, appreciate our value and worth, and protect our peace.

In looking for inspiration for a Black Trans Storytelling even that I am hosting in a couple of weeks to celebrate and affirm and love Black Trans & Gender Nonconforming Lives, I came across these billboards created around the theme Trans Lives Are Scared.

Here’s one of my favorites!

[ID: On a pink background, three Black Trans individuals are gathered together. One is standing, the other two are sitting on the ground together, forming a triangle. They are surrounded by different kinds of plants and mushrooms. In the upper right hand corner in white block letters it reads “Black Trans People are Sacred.”]

Protect your Peace, My loves. Black Trans Lives Matter.

OMG.

i like

had the most important realization that i have ever had in my life i think lol

awhile ago, probably last october or so, someone that i looked up to had dinner with me.

and in that conversation with them, they have probably said the wisest thing that i have ever heard. and of course, like all youngins, i did not take it to heart and i laughed and it went in one ear and left a faint imprint on my brain and mostly went out the other.

and in talking about and thinking about my frustrations with cis Black people, cishet Black women, cis queers, cis qpoc, my struggle to figure out if im gay or a lesbian or a “complicated queer” and sad gay™ forever…ive realized that i knew the true answer all along?

my trans, nonbinary, and non cis friends are the only people who i consistently feel safe and comfortable and WHOLE around, all the time. no matter what, it seems like.

and gender is not necessarily the most prominent part of my identity (which certainly changes all of the time depending on the spaces im in and the place i am in my life at the moment) but it is an increasingly important part and i think something cis people can never really understand.

and so the wise words that came from this person who i can only aspire to be as powerful (in the nurturing sense) and beautiful and caring were: “I’m T4T. Trans for Trans. and once you’re T4T you’re never going back.”

and while this person meant it in a romantic and sexual sense, i think for me, someone who is all over romantic, platonic, sexual, queerplatonic, and sensual spectrums and forms of experiencing attraction, this is probably the most ACCURATE description of the type of people that i desire to have intimacy and friendship and closeness with in my life.

and no, that does not mean i am about to cancel all the cis queers and cishets in my life.

but it does mean that i think that i’ve been looking for the kinds of relationships that i want in the wrongs spaces and the wrong people. or maybe not “wrong,” but at least not the most “appropriate” ones.

some of my Black friends are like, Black before anything else. but in a conversation that I had with a Black non-cis person (!!!) we talked about how some cis queer and cishet Black people are the equivalent of the Karens and the white gays that they hate and like to shit on so much, and give us shit for having a white Jewish boyfriend (in their case) or for me spending so much time with “white gays” (when really, it was white trans folk and not the white gays in the sense of the white cis gay men who are like, “i am so discriminated against because of my sexuality” and don’t realize the levels of privilege that they have).

but honest to goodness, i feel safer and comfortable and more at ease with my white trans friends than i have EVER felt with any of my cis friends or Black friends. periodt.

and it really is no accident that my role models, that the people who i call my family and call me fam right back, that the people i first text when shit hits the fan and when i need a hug (virtual ones, these days. lol) or when something super exciting or super mundane or just like, when ANYTHING happens in my life…they are all non-cis people. i can’t believe i didn’t connect the dots earlier.

I love my trans folk, my nonbinary folk, my non-cis folk (and I use non-cis, because for me and some other folk, using English/the language of our colonizers to describe and define our gender feels like an erasure of the histories of our ancestors whose beliefs about gender and gender systems we may never know, or are currently inaccessible to us. I allow people to call me nonbinary because it’s ~somewhat~ understood in a lot of spaces, but i don’t necessarily believe that there was ever a gender binary in the societies of my ancestors. so yeah).

my life has been so DRAINING, my energy levels so DEPLETED and i can’t believe that the only people ive regularly been talking to and feel restorative and safe and protected and even welcomed wherever im at rn…they’re all not cis. wow.

LOVE BLACK TRANS WOMEN. AND INDIGENOUS TRANS WOMEN. AND ALL OF US BLACK AND INDIGENOUS TRANS FOLK. AND PROTECT US.

Here’s a care package (https://transgenderlawcenter.org/resources/carepackage) that a trans friend of mine sent to me when this current manifestation of the abolitionist and anti-racist movement had reached what unfortunately seems like the height of its momentum (or at least, that’s how im perceiving it in this moment) and when my body and soul were in so much pain and i was feeling overwhelmed by that pain in a way that i have never felt before. it really is a beautiful exercise.

anyway. i feel loved. i feel like my love is everywhere just radiating out of my body into…somewhere. and i hope all the baby trans folk out there feel the spiritual hug i am giving all of them rn💜 so, so much love

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btw, this person did not create the term T4T they just exposed me to it lol. here’s an article (https://parlourtalk.com/blog/t4t-when-trans-people-date-each-other/) about someone explaining their thoughts about T4T and why trans people may specifically seek out other trans people in all kinds of relationships. and as they say, this isn’t to romanticize trans/trans relationships, to ignore the fact that trans/trans relationships are not perfect and can be unhealthy, or to say that trans/cis relationships can’t be healthy and loving. it’s just like, to say that it makes sense that we just wanna be with each other ❤