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Dreams

(Still experimenting but I kinda like this featured image! It is almost accurate to my vision)

 

Good afternoon everyone!

Today I’ve decided to write this blog post, one about dreams. I know right? Talking about something non-political for once, it’s like a breath of fresh air!

 

Why talk about dreams? What is there to talk about? I don’t know.. it’s just an interesting topic to me and one that I would like to share a few thoughts that I believe some people might find useful or relatable. I’ll also be sharing an old returning dream of mine back when I was an (actual) teenager, and how I reacted to it at the time and what it taught me.

 

 

First of, what are dreams? It is always wise to first describe the word that we’ll be using for an entire post.

 

A dream can be several things to several people. Emotions, images, stories, fiction, solving problems, memories, desires.. the list goes on. These happen when you rest, during one’s beauty sleep. Life taught me that men and women dream differently (though that’s not really important for this post). While there are people that believe there’s a spiritual meaning behind them, that need to be interpreted; there are others that believe that these should be ignored for they are mostly made of nonsense and scraps that are being tidied in the right compartments of the psyche.

Personally, I believe they are all of those.. except the spiritual aspect. I do not believe they come from gods or spirits.. but from our own subconscious. I know, it’s obvious. It has to come from our own mind and, therefore, it has to be based on things that we must known or have seen or thought. Either consciously or subconsciously.

This is the part that I find most interesting and a few may disagree. I don’t believe most dreams hold any special meaning. However, I do believe some do hold a special meaning. The more intense a dream is and the more we are able to remember it everyday, then it is worth investigating! Even more, if it starts to repeat. If a dream makes you worried, or the emotions that you felt on the dream are carried to reality even if for just a few seconds, I believe it is time for an introspection.

However, I also do believe that only the person who dreams it can know what it means. In short, I don’t believe one should ask someone else to interpret one’s dream. The dream came from your mind, from your own thoughts. Only you hold the key to understand what those emotions, images and fiction means. A color may symbolize something that only you know, therefore there’s no way to generalize a color’s meaning in a dream. One must understand oneself to better realize what your dreams could mean to you!

 

I believe that dreams, when they repeat and are intense, can be used to better understand oneself. Our own fears, our own emotions that we may not even be aware! Or even issues in our own mind. But it’s also wise to never fully embrace and act upon one’s dreams. Because, at the end of the day, most dreams may not hold any special meaning. You can never be too sure and dreams are not evidence of anything wrong or positive about your life and mental health. It is a way for your brain to organize itself; based on the things you saw, know or feel. And most of them can be made of incoherent gibberish.

.. But, if we are confident that a dream may hold a special meaning, then I believe we should try to understand it to better understand ourselves. Not with google, or with the aid of others.. but based on our own interpretation of it. We are able to figure it out by ourselves since it came from us. We know what a certain object means, what a certain color means, what a gesture or emotion means. Because our mind is not a separate identity from ourselves. We are the mind and the subconscious holds the thoughts that we refuse to think about on our daily lives.

 

Our brains allows us to breathe without thinking, in the same way that our subconscious deals with certain emotions and thoughts that we don’t want to think about but still have to be part of our being in order to keep our sanity intact.

This is my personal opinion, of what is a dream and if they hold some value. The short answer is: Only you know if a dream is important or not and if you should use it to better understand yourself. And only you can know the meaning behind the dream. Following a literal dream is as foolish as following one’s heart, since sometimes the heart isn’t in the right place. Sometimes, however, one must understand and solve the issues that plague our subconscious. Those warnings may sometimes materialize in the form of dreams. Dreams are a mere symptom that need other real symptoms to be considered legit aspects that need attention. A dream alone without other actual real symptoms is nothing to be worried.

 

With that view on dreams that I hold, it is obvious that I, myself, had a few interesting experiences related to this topic through out my life. Though most of them are personal and private, there is one that I would love to share to whoever has been reading thus far.

 

 

This specific dream that I’ll be talking about did haunt me ever since the beginning of my own puberty. It lasted for nearly ten years. Though not everyday or even every week, it repeated often enough to be remembered even after not dreaming it for around seven years. In fact, this dream became so intense and frightening that it was one of the many things that lead me to “come out of the closet”, as they say! And it never came back since I did so, which means that the dream was associated with my condition and not being honest with myself and others.

The featured image that I used for this blog post is mostly accurate to part of that dream.. down to the colors that I remember.

First, I’ll expose the dream. Then I’ll share the interpretation of it that took me years to fully understand. Then I’ll explain what I did after realizing what it meant.

 

The dream starts in fog, white and slowly revealing the soft beige colors that would be maintained through out most of the dream. It quickly reveals a feminine figure. That figure looked closely like myself. The fog covered my vision of what was bellow my shoulders and all I could see was what was above the shoulders.

A quick note: As most dreams that I have, I very rarely dream of myself in my own eyes but in third person. Though I can act, feel and talk.. my dreams never reveal my own vision but the vision from somewhere else.. like a camera from a movie focusing on the protagonist. Though clearly I am the protagonist and I’m in full control of my own figure, emotions and thoughts.

Despise not being able to see what was underneath the fog, I knew that I was naked. I could not feel what was underneath the fog, but I could use my own hands. My own feminine figure had most of her face covered, exposing only the jaw, nose and mouth. What covered her face was not fog.. but a messy tangled web of confusion.. hair. I wanted to know if that feminine figure was really me and, conveniently, there is a cheval mirror standing in front of me. Given that I am the feminine figure in this dream, I approach it calmly, in a single step.

The mirror reveals what I already had seen. Fog bellow the shoulders and the mess that covered most of the face. This is the moment that I can see myself in first person. My curiosity lead me to use my hands and remove the hair in front of my eyes. I wanted to know if that feminine figure was really me. But dreams are bizarre and, as I try to remove the hair in front of my eyes.. it reveals that there is more hair underneath.

Confused, I keep trying. I start using both my hands and I begin to realize that I’m unable to remove the hair from my face. Underneath hair, there was more hair. I clench my teeth, the frustration starts to build in and my hand movements start to hasten as I try to force my way in hope that I have a glimpse on what’s underneath the hair.

As the frustration grows and I start to yell out the pain, the shades of beige start to get darker. Despise being unable to see my own eyes, I still was able see my hands and the reflection in front of the mirror clearly. But I was unable to see what was underneath the hair.

The colors, as they would grow darker and darker, bring an end to the dream and bring me to reality.. since I would always wake up after that dream still clinging to the frustration and haziness it brought and wondering if that figure was really me.

 

Of course, we could always ask someone for what they think this dream means. Or a specialist, or a spiritual leader. But, as I’ve mentioned earlier, dreams are born from our subconscious, from our own thoughts and feelings. Only we, ourselves, are able to figure out our own dreams. With this dream, I will give an example of what I mean by that.

In order, I’ll explain the meaning behind my dream.

 

The dream starts white. For me, it represents purity and innocence. And it also represents enlightenment. In whiteness, the several shades of beige are born and they form the dream itself. Beige is a soft color and, for me, it represents sensitivity. Since it is also a color quite close to my own skin tone, it is a familiar color. Familiar, truth, sensitive and delicate are the four words that come to mind when beige is presented to me. It also is a color that catches my attention, as something that needs special consideration. It is a warning sign that what is going to happen is very important, emotional and requires thought, delicate actions and soft spoken words.

When these colors are presented to me in such a fashion, it means that what is about to happen is of extreme importance and is life changing. So there is a sense of mystery and high expectations on what is going to happen. The fog underlines this mystery or truths that have yet to be revealed.

The feminine figure is easily identifiable as me. It shares the same mouth and nose. But the jaw line, neck thickness and shoulders seemed off. What could be described as a feminine interpretation of myself (which, nowadays, when I think about it, my brain actually figured out somehow how I would somehow look like without testosterone in the present. That is impressive.. though strange). This added more to the mystery though, clearly, given that I was starting puberty, it was the embodiment of what I wanted for myself.

The fog covers everything bellow the shoulders. Since I know that this feminine figure of myself was naked, it represents vulnerability and delicateness. And also things to reveal, hidden. There is also certain curiosity to how I look like underneath all that fog, though clearly never the focus. This represents sexuality. Since I’m unable to verify the existence of breasts and genitalia, it means that my sexual desires were unknown and yet to be revealed. Yet, again, it never seems to be the focus of this dream since I am more curious to learn about the identity of that figure has really being me or not.

The hairy mess that covered most of my face and eyes represents my negligence. It is there and messy because I’ve allowed it to be that way. It got to the point that it covered my eyes, my identity. This means that I willingly decided to ignore and conceal my identity from myself and others. A web of messy lies and dishonesty that went too far.

I was watching myself in third person, as if looking through an invisible camera that focused on the protagonist. This is the rule in most of my dreams, the default. It means that everything thus far was the norm, the status quo. There was a mirror however, nearby. And as I walk towards the mirror that represents the ability to self reflect, to indulge in introspection; the vision changes to the first person. That means that I still hold the power to find out about my own identity through some introspection.

The fact that I can still use my eyes and see clearly, despise the mirror showing that there is plenty of hair in front of them only underlines that the mess that covers the vision and judgement is nothing more than an illusion. The lies aren’t real, though I can clearly make sense of those lies by doing some introspection. It is recognizing that there is something wrong in one’s identity and that there is still hope since I had not become completely blinded by the very same lies that I’ve created to justify the facade that I used to live when I was young.

I knew that feminine figure was me but, somehow, I wanted to make sure it was really me. This means that I still didn’t had access to my true self, to my personality. That I didn’t fully knew who I was or wasn’t sure that what I thought to be me was really me. The lies that kept my true self hidden meant that I was curious.. yet afraid to be right.

My hands could be used to remove the hair in front of my eyes. It means that, deep down, I really wanted to take steps and find out if that figure was my true self. But there was more hair underneath the hair.. and that caused frustration. It means, after all, the web of lies and illusions were unable to be removed on my own. And that, on my own, even if I tried to remove the lies and understand myself more and more through the illusions that I’ve created, there would always be more lies and illusions underneath. This can only mean that, though there is a necessity to dispel to find oneself, I would still always be fearful and create more illusions and lies to keep my true identity concealed. It means that I was being an hypocrite and working against my own interests with the dishonesty I was continuously creating.

The feelings that it brought, of frustration and helplessness, is the embodiment of high Neuroticism. The dream becomes dark, teeth grinding. The darkness means the end, a conclusion. It also means to conceal, to forget. To interrupt, in this situation. It means something is interrupting my progress, to find my true self. And as I always woke up right afterwards.. it means that reality, my own daily life. That is what was stopping me from finding myself. Life itself didn’t allowed me to be who I am. The frustration is carried through reality and I’m left wondering who that figure really was.

The ironic part is not that the dream forced me to wake up. Deep down, I wanted to wake up because I couldn’t handle the frustration that the dream always brought to the surface.

 

As I grew older, the figure, too, aged at the same rate as myself in reality. And so the frustration and weariness grew alongside it. Because I was starting to become too self conscious and aware of this dream’s existence. Together with the disforia in it by itself. Though it wasn’t a dream that made me realize of my condition, it was still one of the many warning symptoms of keeping myself hidden from the public eye and keep the facade for so long until adulthood.

The dream only ceased to reappear when I decided to “come out of the closet”. Which only shows that the dream represented my denial, of who I am in my essence. It represented the emotions and the facade I had built to keep myself hidden for so long from my conscious reality and from those that I used to deal with daily. My subconscious was filled with the thoughts and emotions that I didn’t want to think or feel. And my subconscious brought that dream over and over because it was loaded with such negative feedback.

Once I’ve opened my mouth and did my own research.. my subconscious was free and became healthier with time. It no longer needed to process those specific emotions and thoughts, finally having time for other issues that also need attention.

 

 

This is why I believe that some dreams can be useful. But it is up to us to figure out if a dream is a warning sign of our own subconscious.. or just another foolish segment of nothing but gibberish nonsense.

Thank you for reading and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this blog post! Sweet dreams~

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“Diversity” is our Strength

(“Good” featured image)

 

Good afternoon boys and girls!

Today we’re getting political and quite critical. Or, as some people would call it, politically incorrect. Fortunately, those words lost all their meaning so, therefore, I feel no guilt in sharing my thoughts on a rather heated topic! “Diversity”.

 

“Diversity is our Strength”, we have heard several times. During our childhood, most of us saw an image that, in concept, is alike the one I’ve drawn as a a featured image! The world, surrounded by people of all cultures and ethnicity. Holding hands, expressing our humanity, our unity and hope for world peace.

I, myself, am used to such images and concepts. These were everywhere when I was young, specially when I was in first grade and all the way to the fourth grade. Though, personally, I see no wrong with such concept and image; I rather prefer the image of a more developed fetus within a mother’s womb surrounded by the stars of the galaxy to represent the human condition. In fact, that’s what I had drawn back in third grade when they asked all the children in my school to draw something that represented our humanity. That got me a bronze medal for my creativity back then… but enough about silly ol’me!

 

But what is “Diversity”? We see it today, people demanding a more diverse environment. Shouting, weeping, becoming emotionally unstable when current politics don’t align with their own view of the world. Spouting labels such as “racist” and “bigoted”, because a politician dared to suggest that maybe there should be more control over a country’s borders. The talk about globalization, millions of people who are pro-immigration and would be shocked if someone else isn’t keen on having fully open borders. In the name of inclusion, justice.

This is when opinions vary. But it is clear that, for some, diversity means having people of all cultures and backgrounds come together and live in peace. To be honest, that does sound great on a very superficial level. Who wouldn’t want world peace?

But.. there’s an issue with such mindset. And the issue lies within the word “Diversity” itself. Again we ask, what is “diversity?”

 

As mentioned earlier, people have grown to get used to and aspire for imagery and the symbolic meaning behind the drawing I’ve made for the featured image of today’s post. But there is something I haven’t done on that picture that I’ve drawn: They lack skin color. I’ve done so on purpose though, for some, the meaning behind diversity is having people with different skin colors. For others it is having people of several religious faiths holding hands. And there are others that see diversity in having people of “all genders” (we’ve been through this but, for the sake of keeping on topic, here’s my view on Non-Binary, for those interested), with all types of body shapes and fashion styles.

So, again, I ask. What is “Diversity”? Though everyone seems to have an answer to that nowadays, I will give my outright opinion and say that I disagree with most people’s view on what that word even means and criticize those who believe that “Diversity” means having a cereal bowl filled with colorful pieces of mere grain and sugar.

 

What exactly is “Diverse” in having people of all skin colors in the same room? Besides the superficial and outlook visual appearance being, admittedly, diverse, is it really.. “Diverse”? To assume that people with different skin colors than our own are.. different, with unrelated life experiences than our own that could never be understood by anyone of a different ethnicity; isn’t it a gross exaggeration and a way to stereotype people based on the color of their skin? To assume that someone with a different skin color could never relate to someone that doesn’t share their own skin color.. isn’t this bigotry in itself? To categorize people based on their appearance and to conclude that, in order to have a rich and diverse environment, you would need different skin colors in the same room; isn’t this racism?

Of course, some would say that this isn’t racism and being colorblind is racism. Again, we can conclude that words have lost all their meaning and that their meanings have changed depending on someone’s ideology. But, for some, having a room with people with black skin, brown skin, white skin and with Asian ethnicity equally represented is, by itself, the true answer to a fulfilling rich and diverse culture.. and that gives strength.

I strongly disagree, since I’m colorblind and I don’t believe a color gives you unique abilities, intelligence or personality. We live in the real world, not in a fictitious Rainbow Brite/Power Ranger parallel universe.

 

How exactly does having all religions gathered in the same room gives society strength? Besides some of them wanting to kill each others because they believe they should be the only true religion in this world; how exactly can you have all religions in the same room and expect one to be shielded from criticism while the others are worthy of scrutiny? How is it fair and non-hypocritical that one seeks diversity in religion yet the very same religions that are protected as “minorities” seek to criminalize those who think differently than they do? In short, how is defending individuals that seek to eliminate the very same “Diversity” you seek.. “Diverse”?

Of course, some would say that criticizing a religion is fine as long it is not a very specific one of their liking. But if you criticize one or two religions who are deemed as “minority” is, in fact, bigotry against the people that follow that religion.

I strongly disagree, since we are talking about ideology. Every ideology deserves criticism and every ideology is different from one another. Some ideas deserve more attention and more scrutiny, because of the things they do in the name of what they follow. To believe that certain religions should be shielded from such is incredibly patronizing and against an equal society. In short, it’s unfair and illogical, it does not bring the “Diversity” you seek.. but more hatred.

 

How exactly is a room filled the same amount of men and women.. equal? Besides mathematics being on point with that sort of mentality, how is one’s genitals and gender identity synonymous of a diverse and a contribution to a diverse environment? How is it fair to say what a man and a woman can do and shouldn’t go? How is that not stereotyping people while claiming that society is the one that manufactured gender itself (despise biology pointing otherwise)? One should be consistent with their views if one wishes to redefine the very core of humanity.

Of course, some would say that I’m sexist and transphobic for not caring for one’s genitals or gender identity. Unfortunately for them, I’m a woman. A transsexual woman. So that would mean that I hate myself, that I’ve internalized some type of bigotry. I’m sorry, I’m not that easily manipulated by schizophrenic sociopaths drunken by their own ideology. I’m a cult survivor, I got my vaccine against those. Though I guess you could blame me for being bigoted against Non-Binary, since I am still waiting for the evidence that such exists (how can you be bigoted against something that doesn’t exist?).

However, again, I strongly disagree. Gender stereotypes are the worst and I’ve felt the pressure of some individuals trying to impose me either male or female tropes down my throat, since I pass as a biological female in society and I was born biologically male. Not everyone is a stereotypical female or male. Tomboys and feminine men exist after all and that shows than men and women are capable of relating with each others in many ways. Being a man or a woman (or an attack helicopter) doesn’t make you unique and diverse. It makes you superficial and dull, that lacks personality. If anything, statistical equality and collectivism is oppressive towards individuals with potential and incredibly patronizing for the “minorities” in the room that are told that they can’t achieve greatness because the room is bigoted towards them.

 

 

Once again we ask, what is “Diversity”? Close your eyes and imagine the following: (wait, don’t actually close your eyes.. else you won’t be able to read!)

You are in a room. In this room, there is a White Atheist Man, a Black Muslim Woman, a Latino Christian Transsexual Male and an Eastern Asian Buddhist Non-Binary Woman. They are happy with the “Diversity” in their room, equally represented by the tokenism present by mere four individuals.

Ignoring the strong possibility of the Atheist criticizing the Muslim for pointing that her faith would never allow the Non-Binary Woman to be in that room with them.. Or the Christian pointing out the flaws of Islam and the Atheist calling the Christian an hypocrite while the Buddhist claims that both the Christian and the Atheist are Islamophobic.. Or the Black Woman and Non-Binary Woman criticizing the White Man for being there (while the Transsexual Man strangely remains silent since he doesn’t want to get involved in this argument)..

Yes, ignoring that all of those things could happen, they somehow manage to stay sane and alive in the same room; in peace.

 

But peace breaks the moment a chair breaks. The four look at each other, wondering who will fix it.

The Black Muslim Woman shrugs lightly and says that she won’t do it, because asking her to do so would be considered racist, because of slavery.

The Latino Christian Transsexual Male looks at the Eastern Asian Buddhist Non-Binary Woman, as if questioning if she’s the one that’s going to fix the chair and break the gender roles imposed by society that women are incapable of such tasks. But she shrugs, because she isn’t a carpenter.

Both men look at each other. It seems it is up to either one. The Eastern Asian Buddhist Non-Binary Woman comes in defense of the Latino Christian Transsexual Male and informs everyone that the Transsexual is, in fact, oppressed and to stop oppressing him with such tasks and gender roles. The Transsexual Male strangely, again, remains quiet.. since he’s lazy and thanks his god (in secrecy) that someone just got him away from such a dull task.

 

The White Atheist Man seems to be the center of attention. He is a White “Cisgendered” Male. An Atheist, opressor of the religious present in that room. This is an opportunity for him to prove that he’s not bigoted, that he doesn’t want to enslave the Black Woman. That he doesn’t discriminate against the Non-Binary and Transsexual. That he respects all faiths.

He walks towards the chair, to try his luck. Unfortunately, he doesn’t do a good job and the chair remains even more broken. The White Atheist Man apologizes and asks if he can invite his friend to come over and fix the chair for free. The four are unable (or unwilling) to fix the chair.. there needs to be one more person on that room.

The Eastern Asian Buddhist Non-Binary Woman asks the White Atheist Man what race, religion and gender is his friend. He says that it is another White Atheist Man. The other three disagree and ask if he has someone that is a Woman or Non-Binary at least. Or at least someone that isn’t White. The White Atheist Man shakes his head, he’s not an individual with many friends after all.

 

Where is the “Diversity”? Who will fix that chair, despise the four being, superficially, different from each others?

It seems they are not that “Diverse” after all. Despise their skin color, gender and religion.. none of them is prolific enough to fix a chair. And since they cannot allow another White Atheist Man to walk inside the room in order to keep the balance.. the chair remains broken, ugly and useless.

 

 

Is this the Diversity you seek? Let’s imagine something different.

Imagine the same room, the same broken chair. But, in this room, there is a Scientist, an Athlete, a Carpenter and an Artist. They talk among themselves and it is obvious that the Carpenter is going to be the one fixing this chair. Carpenter does so, with the aid of the strong Athlete. The Artist remains close, giving advises on how to make the chair look more appeasing to the eye. The Scientist remains afar, perhaps planning on what to do with that chair once it is fixed.

The Carpenter fixed the chair, the Athlete was the helper. Not only did they fix that chair, but they made it prettier thanks to the suggestions given by the Artist. The Scientist, on the other hand, thought it would be a good idea to use that chair themselves in order to sit on their desk and write an hypothesis about one of their new theories.

.. It seems these individuals worked better together. Their skills and traits were diverse and, not only did they work together, but they also made more than just fixing a chair.

 

This is Diversity that gives strength. If we had four Carpenters, the chair would be fixed and nothing more. If we had four Athletes or four Artists or four Scientists, the chair wouldn’t be fixed. But these four, together? The chair was fixed and even more!

And you may ask yourself if it is possible that these four individuals also could had different skin colors.. or gender.. or religion.. from each others. Oh, it is! Completely! But, as you can see, those aspects did not matter at the end. What you are after.. is not Diversity. But a false sense of… “Diversity”.

 

 

 

Thank you for reading this blog post. I’ve enjoyed writing this one!

I’ll see you next time, dear reader~

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The blur of Reality & Online

(Basic featured image is basic)

 

Good afternoon!

It has been a while since I’ve wrote on this blog. I know I know..

Either way, here we are. Another post, one that will sound more like a short incoherent ramble about the future of my online pseudonym!

First, I would like to quote a former post I’ve made on this blog.

“I should know better by now, as someone of my own age, to not behave this carelessly online on my public accounts. I should had kept myself to drawing and sharing stories. Again, that was the original idea when I created the pseudonym “SapphyDe90”. To focus on art, to be genuine yet kind. I guess the “art” and “kindness” got lost somewhere, leaving only the brutal honesty to the public. Unfiltered.. for most part. Lax. Perhaps naive, which is something that goes against what I am in reality.. though it is true that I can act quite childish. Personally, I don’t mind being childish on some aspects, as long I’m mature where it actually matters.”

“More and more I’ve thought to myself what to do with this pseudonym. I’ve been less motivated to draw as time passes by. Yet I’ve been felling the pressure to express my creativity somehow. It pains me that, at the age of 26 (nearly 27), I’m here thinking about what I want to do when “I grow up”. In this case, what type of artist I want to be. Again. I thought I had that set on stone, I was doing well with my art style. My stories and universes were, in my humble biased opinion, well developed and it’s a shame I never shared not even a single one to a wider audience, in a more complete sense! But, alas, people know that I’m changing. It’s a long process, that I’m quite enjoying the results that have been surprising me. But this is not the post to talk about my transition..”

Ignoring the rambling about art, given that it is something that will take some time and patience from my part to do so.. (my daily life does not allow me to fully dedicate myself to do some soul searching and find myself again as an artist) it is clear that, ever since I’ve started my transition, my online presence has changed drastically. And, to be honest, so has my real presence in the real world.. obviously.

 

Some of you are aware of my blue haired cartoon character, an alter ego which goal was to serve as an online persona and a way to humanize my own personality that was locked away in my subconscious. The idea of a blue (actually cyan) haired girl sporting a mix of magenta, yellow and black came in 2013.

 

First appearance – August 2013

First came the face, has I still lacked a art style of my own.

The blue hair came with the idea that, as basic and obvious as it may seem, my name is associated with a gemstone that is typically related with the color blue (even though this gem exists in other colors). However, I gave it a lighter shade, a pure cyan because, at the time, I was finishing a Graphic Design course and I thought it would be funny if I went ahead and used Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Black! For me, it represents the ability to adapt to most social circumstances and events while, at the same time, not losing focus of my individuality. As Sapphire.

The rose tinted glasses, though normally associated with blinded nostalgia, it represents several things for me. First, it simbolizes a one sided vision of the world. Stubbornness, in short. An individual with strong convictions and morals. The rose tinted color represents tradition, since it is connected with nostalgia. Though I am nostalgic about a few things, it means that I hold a more old fashioned view of how things should be. It’s classic. Though, if one looks closer, the eyes behind the glasses are blue. Again, it represents an independent view. In short, I don’t like to impose my own values onto others and I enjoy my right to be an old fashioned individual… the same way that I feel others should be free to follow their own values.. as long they don’t impose those onto me.

 

Another August 2013 drawing

The hairpin, though I rarely included those on my drawings, it represents my geek side. It doesn’t serve any purpose for the hairstyle, nor does it mold it drastically but it means that I’m fine with that aspect of mine.

The wardrobe itself, the clothing.. there was never a special meaning behind it. It was style, ways to represent the other colors mentioned earlier. And often have I changed the clothing, depending on the season.

With Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Black, I could give my alter ego any color I wanted. Which is why, at times (Halloween, for example), my alter ego would be drawn with other shades, other colors.

 

Halloween 2015

The shape of the eyes and the eye-shadow are also peculiar, different from all the characters I have drawn thus far. For one, my alter ego lacks eyebrows. At first, this was a mistake that I’ve realized much later. But I came to like it this way! For me, it symbolizes a faint hint of pride in one self. Though extremely self conscious and a perfectionist, I am still able to maintain a certain level of confidence in my views.

Instead of having eyebrows, the eyeliner extends far above and reaching the brow bone. It is a way to fix a mistake, the lack of eyebrows. Again, it underlines my flaw (or virtue, depending of one’s perspective) of being a perfectionist that tries to correct everything wrong in herself. Certain vanity.

The shape of the eyes and thick eyeliner represents a superficial judgement. It’s bold, a judgmental stare. It means that, despise everything said earlier, I still judge others heavily on their actions, words or lack of those. Though I do not impose my judgement, I still judge others inwardly. This is obviously a gross exaggeration of that aspect of mine.

 

Halloween 2016

Of course, all of this work around a cartoon character, an alter ego, served a purpose in the past. This purpose however, no longer applies.

Things have changed quite a lot since I’ve started my transition. Being online, having an cartoon avatar like this allowed me to keep in mind who I am, to maintain my personality alive and burning in the digital world while, in reality.. I would still had to wait for that to happen. A gross exaggeration of my virtues and flaws was brought to life thanks to a short tempered blue haired hippy looking cartoon character.

The character was never something I aspired to be given that she was, in essence, me. I used to love this character, even though I do admit that her appearance wasn’t friendly for the wider audience to relate to!

 

Given the changes in my life, it is time to say goodbye to this alter ego. Because, with my transition, I no longer need a mask to hide behind.

 

 

And so we move to the future. Given my transition and the fact that my personality is no longer hidden in riddles and chains, it is no mystery to others who I am.

Though I am difficult to be understood.. according to some of the people in my life, complicated. I feel that the line that separates reality and the online presence I used to keep it hidden more from those I deal with in reality, that line is starting to blur. People are becoming aware of the type of person that I am, the things that I like and my own thoughts. I no longer keep it hidden, though I tend to filter those more in reality out of kindness and overall passivity.

Truth is, there’s no point in hiding what I am in reality from the digital (online) realm.. the same way there’s no point in hiding what I am in the digital (online) realm from the people in the real world. Which is why I’ve created an Instagram account and even uploaded a photo of me as a profile picture across all sorts of social medias!

 

I am what I am. I am SapphyDe90, Sapphy, Sapphire, Safira. I have no real shame in what I do, believe and say. I am free~

And yes, I’ve lost a few “friends” on the way. Either because I, myself, walked away from such toxic relationships or they, themselves, walked away from me. Though it is a shame that some of those, who claimed to support me, faded away the moment I exposed my true colors. Nothing of value was lost, it’s all I have to say.. but I would be lying if I said I didn’t hold some resentment over a few of those people. I mean, here I am sharing my happiness and freedom.. and they just walk away after saying that they would support me. If anything, you should feel happy that I’m happy and I’m sharing you the happiness that you wished for me to have!

Perhaps there are a few people that believe that I’m bragging about my own achievements, or that go as far to say that I’ve become a narcissist behind my back. Shows how much you people grasp this situation I’m in and how low your faith is in me. Do me a favor and get lost if that’s your opinion.

Again, it’s no secret that I’m in some sort of pseudo adolescence. Except, you know, this is the right adolescence that I should of had back when I was an actual teenager. You know how teenagers are, experimenting and discovering their developing bodies and emotions. It’s healthy.. and that is what’s been going on in my life in these last few months. The fact that this vanity and self-absorption of mine, in recent months, has turned away a few people or has made them feel insecure and self-conscious about their own appearance and feelings is, at best, amusing! At worst, pathetic and sad. Because how low do you have to be to feel those things over someone with a disorder? Petty, ignorant.. there are no words to describe people who were lucky in life and still, somehow, manage to envy those who, just now, are able to live a normal life. You had your whole life filled with happiness, the teenage youthful bodies that you could relate. At the age of 27, here comes silly me finally having the body and mind that I deserve, much later in life compared to everyone else and still.. people feel the need to moan about it. No seriously.. get lost, don’t ever talk to me, just go away and don’t look back, unfriend me on your social medias, do whatever you want but can you just disappear from my life?

On the other hand, I’ve gained other friendships.. that feel truer. So no, I’m not the one losing here. I lose more keeping the reluctant in my life and/or friends’ list because, when I browse my friends’ list or social media feeds, their faces and names are there and it forces me to remind of their existence.. and that’s what creates resentment. Someday, I might be the one doing the cleanup if they don’t do it themselves with dignity. When my paciente starts to run dry and surpasses my natural submissive and passive outlook, of course!

 

 

So, what does the future hold for my online pseudonym, SapphyDe90? Simple, it holds everything that I am, what I want to do, what I want to say. It is no longer about just art, about my thoughts, about games, about politics, about anything in specific.

Thank you for reading this blog post and I hope you have a nice weekend!

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A Non (Binary) issue

(Obligatory self pat on the back about the featured image)

 

Good afternoon!

We all knew this was going to happen sooner or later. The day I would post something this specific, about a very special group of individuals! The Non-binary. The people that claim there are more than two genders and call themselves “Trans”. Because labels are fun, specially when you don’t even know what the label means!

Of course, before I start spouting my own opinions as if anybody asked or cared, it’s best to describe a few terms.

A non-binary individual is someone that believes they are neither male or female. They claim to be somewhere in between, or nowhere, or all. They also believe that gender itself is a social construct, which ironically goes strictly against what a transgender/transsexual is and has been proven to be (in short, a belief that goes against scientific evidence itself). Normally, though I agree that it is a wide generalization (#NotAll), most of these individuals tend to be left leaning activists that adhere to the ideas and believes of Third Wave Feminism.

In short, non-binary individuals tend to be obnoxiously political about their own believes and feelings. Their evidence about their own core believes is never rooted on science and reality but, instead, on philosophical attempts to question the very basics of life and identity. Fuzzy logic and overall logic fallacies.

Obviouly, they are able to maintain their positions within the supposed “LGBT communities” given how they enjoy waving around the wrongly misplaced label of being “Trans”. Which, for many of the cisgendered people who don’t know any better, fall for it given that most Transsexuals (rightfully so) tend to lead average lives like most members of society (once they are able to “pass”) and don’t spend their entire lives waving around a flag and shouting on the megaphones about conspiracy theories, like the existence of a “patriarchal society”. Which only leaves the politically driven Non-Binary to lead the “movement” in the name of “the Trans”.

 

Yeah, you can tell that this is an issue that upsets me and other actual Transgender/Transsexual individuals. I’m not the only one that says that Non-Binary people have become an issue and a misrepresentation of what a Transgender and Transsexual is. Though that by itself doesn’t mean that our issues with them are automatically valid, I have yet to be convinced that I’m wrong. I am obviously open for debate on these issues! But I do warn that I am stubborn which, to my understanding, it’s a very neat trait. Oh and trying to appeal to my emotions won’t work, given that the damage provoked by Non-Binary individuals is greater than anything they take issues with.

 

The obvious problems with the Non-Binary movement can easily be solved if they, themselves, stop calling themselves “Trans”.

But what are the problems that the Non-Binary movement provoke to actual Transgender and Transsexual people?

 

 

ONE. MISREPRESENTATION.

The number of actual Transgender/Transsexual individuals in the world is roughly less than 1%. Though the exact number is incredibly hard to determine, given that most Transgender and Transsexual people do decide to lead average lives and not be open about their condition once they are able to “pass”. Or, some of them, have decided not to transition and to hide their true feelings from society.

Unlike those who are Gay, Lesbian and Bisexuals; Transgender and Transsexuals are not a sexual orientation but, in fact, are victims of both biological and psychological anomalies that have been wired in their genetics and misfortunes on themselves or in their mother’s womb on an hormonal level. In short, unlike a sexual orientation, that is natural; no matter if one is Heterossexual, Gay, Lesbian or Bisexual; Transgender and Transsexual people are not a natural occurrence, but an health condition. Which is why Transgender individuals search for medical aid to solve their health conditions (both mentally and physical aid).

To determine if someone is Transgender and qualified for proper treatment, it’s best to be absolutely sure that the person claiming to be Transgender does suffer from Gender Dysphoria. Gender Dysphoria is the only determine factor that separates someone psychotic or delusional from someone that has a mental disorder because they are biologically driven and mentally wired to be someone of the opposite sex. The dysphoria itself, though a mental disorder, it does not mean that the gender identity of the person is false/fake. The dysphoria exists because the gender identity (that is true and has to be proven by the doctors before any hormonal treatment) does not match the person’s biological sex.

When a Transgender person is given permission to start their treatment (if they so desire to transition), the correct label for that individual becomes the label of a “Transsexual”. A Transsexual is the term used to describe a Transgender person that has started their treatment, since it has been proven that the Transgender individual does suffer from Gender Dysphoria, therefore Transsexualism.

It is also important to note that, as everyone knows (hopefully), there are only two sexes and the rare condition called intersex, which is an anomaly that happens when someone has a mixture of both sexes and, unlike what some people say, it’s not a third sex. Gender, though something that, in case of an anomaly, can differ from someone’s biological sex, is still tied up to biological factors. And since there are only two sexes, it means there are only two genders. Male and Female. It is binary, though it is true that not every man is incredibly macho masculine and not every woman is a feminine princess/queen. And that is fine and lovely, but that does make it an entire new gender.

 

This is where the Non-Binary come in and misrepresent the facts about Transgender and Transsexual people.

First, they’ll claim that gender is a social construct which, by that logic, there wouldn’t be any Transgender and Transsexual people since that means that society taught them to behave and think exactly like those that share their biological sex. There wouldn’t be any Tomboys or Feminine boys either, since everyone would be close to a perfect male or female specimen. But that isn’t true. Which is why their whole existence and claim that they are “Trans” is, by itself, an offence to people who actually suffer from Gender Dysphoria and have a Gender Identity that doesn’t match their biological sex!

Second, they’ll claim that not every “Trans” person suffers from Gender Dysphoria. This belief comes from the obvious fact that Non-Binary people don’t actually suffer from Gender Dysphoria and, since they want to be called “Trans” soo badly, for god knows what reason since there’s absolutely no pride in calling yourself one (much like yelling out of your lungs “I have cancer”. Having cancer is nothing to be proud about), they try to shoehorn this belief into the “LGBT communities” and, therefore, society. Which is false, much like someone claiming to have cancer but saying that they don’t have cancerous cells in their body. This claim feels like a slap and an attempt to diminish the issues of those who still struggle with their Gender Dysphoria, which is infuriating at best! Given that they pass the belief that, those who suffer from Gender Dysphoria, are the ones that need to seek psychological aid since “not every Trans suffers from dysphoria” or, in short, a mental disorder. Again, it gives the wrong impression that, those who don’t suffer from the mental disorder, should be leading, aiding and speaking on behalf of those who do suffer from it.

Third, they’ll claim that there are more than two genders; which is something that Transgender and Transsexual people know to be false by heart (or I hope that they do because, more than anyone on this planet, our very existence is evidence of such). This diminishes and blurs the meaning of Gender Identity which is, for many people in this world, already a confusing aspect to grasp. Since Non-Binary people don’t seem to understand the difference between Gender and Personality/Quirks/Taste/Expression/Fashion. Again, if they were actually Transgender and/or Transsexual, they would know the difference by heart. But since they are not, they continue to spread this false belief that goes against reality and what being Transgender and Transsexual actually means. Don’t worry though, most cisgender people don’t know the difference either!

 

 

TWO. POLITICS.

We can all pretend that the Non-Binary movement is “Trans” for the sake of being inclusive and sensitive. Which, again, doesn’t work since, ironically, it excludes and is highly infuriating for actual Transgender and Transsexuals who find themselves not identifying with these so called “Trans”, given how their believes are opposite to anything that has already been proven.

But let us point to the elephant in the room in this movement and call out the fact that almost every non-binary person is, in fact, a Third Wave Feminist. Or, if not, they are inclined to agree and support social justice movements directly or indirectly. Which makes it seem as if their claims and activism is nothing more than a way to revolt “against society”. Which is why they are against what they call “cisnormativity”. Against “the patriarchy” (a conspiracy theory that claims that western society is brain washed to always favor men over women given centuries of indoctrination provoked by powerful bigoted men).

It is no wonder that some Non-Binary people, besides being obnoxiously political, have waved the flags of Anarchy and Communism. Let alone that those are two completely different and almost opposite political views (one is extremely authoritarian, the other is extremely libertarian. There’s no way both can co-exist in the same society. And while at it, liberal does not mean libertarian and right does not mean authoritarian. There are left leaning authoritarians and there can also be right wing libertarians. Politics is not a line, but a mostly two dimensional spectrum).

In short, besides, again, misrepresenting actual Transgender and Transsexual individuals (which most of them don’t even care about politics and, some of them, are even right winged); it feels as if non-binary people have a problem against society and, claiming to be non-binary, is yet another attempt to revolt against society rather than a genuine struggle that they might be suffering. It is rather strange, though not surprising that when most people nowadays, when they think of someone that is Trangender/Transsexual; their idea is that they are people who are politically driven and want to change society, challenging the status quo. That Transgender and Transsexual people are showing society that men can wear skirts too and women can be incredibly manly. Again, it is very frustrating that this is the image that society has of actual Transgender and Transsexual people when they see obnoxious left leaning radicals speak on their behalf with their conspiracy theories and what can be, unfortunately, compared to a teenage/mid-age rebellion/identity crisis. In short, it makes it seem like we are all Cultural Marxists! No thank you, that’s not what actual Transgender and Transsexual people are (of course there might actually exist a very small percentage of those that are, because we are individuals and not a hive mind collective/cult).

 

Transgender and Transsexual people are individuals and, most of them, don’t want anything to do with politics or these recent rebellions. They are people who are trying to solve their dysphoria and difference between their gender identity and biological sex. Not all of them are left leaning. Not all of them are communists or socialists. Not all of them are right leaning. Not all of them are libertarian. Not all of them are authoritarian. We are normal people like everyone else who, unfortunately, we’re tricked by nature.. NOT SOCIETY.

We don’t need to be “liberated” from a “heteronormative and patriarchal society”. We don’t need people to think that our condition is “natural” (it isn’t), as if we were Gay, Lesbian or Bissexual. What we need actually, is people to be educated about our HEALTH CONDITION! Not pitied, patronized by simple minded buffoons that refuse to listen. But helped by professionals, who know what they are doing because they didn’t take a feminist degree but studied and spent days and nights doing something in their lives besides complaining about a “wage gap” and that they didn’t get a job because the “patriarchy” didn’t allow them to work or achieve much with a useless feminist diploma!

 

…I hope people realize that this is how I got myself in a political rabbit hole in the last two years. Not because I like politics. Not because I want to “change the world”, politically speaking. But to be aware and be able to debunk these believes that are shared in the left leaning society, thanks to these “LGBT communities” that have blindly and ignorantly submitted themselves to the ideologies that I’ve came to despise more and more with time. And every time I’ve tried to speak up my mind, I’ve always been patronized and silenced by those with opposing views. As if, in their perspective, my “ignorance” is cute and they are the epitome of morality, knowledge and truth; the instructors that have to teach me, to open my eyes.

Bitch, I’m a cult survivor who came to the top and was still able to wait patiently for five years to be diagnosed, given permission to the appropriate treatments. I have a job because I didn’t surrender to the despair of my dysphoria for all eternity. Because I didn’t took a useless degree in gender studies or glued myself to online blogs and eco chambers. Someone that is more than a Transgender, more than your average basic “normie” pop cultured woman. I draw, I have passions and motivations. Dreams. I’m creative, a storyteller, also a designer. I also once took a three year course in programming that, though I don’t remember much since it was nearly 10 years ago, it only means that I have a certain autonomy in most things related to software and customization of webpages and coding (if I’m feeling inclined and motivated). Someone that, despise all the odds, still is able to have a healthy relationship with her family. Because I wasn’t a self entitled rebel adult teenager who cried “bigoted” and ran away from home, giving up on their own parents and loved ones just because they first reacted violently or negatively. Someone who, despise some of you crying that society is “bad” towards Transgender and Transsexual people, I am slowly being accepted (though quite easily may I add) by my own neighbors. Someone who even had an positive effect on certain people that held conflicting views of the world, people that now root for me in silence and prayer. Not because I held signs, flags and megaphones in the air like a pretentious snob; but because I was discreet, kind and respectful towards even my worst enemies. That’s how you change the hearts and minds of those who, at first, oppose you. Not with laws and screeching. So, who are YOU to patronize or pity me and my ideas? I’m a winner that keeps winning, like every other actual Transgender/Transsexual and people who suffered injustice in their lives who, despise all the odds, came out on top with their heads held high and humble after being victims of misfortune. The fact is that most of you wouldn’t be able to survive if you had the lives that we had because you lack the willpower, patience, intelligence and empathy to keep going gracefully! Side rant over!

I’m aware that this previous paragraph wasn’t humble and was quite self congratulatory. It was a rant, a necessary one in hope that some people will wake up, an insignificant mumble in cyberspace. Being Transgender and Transsexual is not something to be proud, much like having cancer. But beating cancer, however, is something to be proud of. And what I admire is, people who actually suffer from major issues and injustices in their lives, they never look down on anyone. They remain humble, kind and respectful towards others, despise the fact that they succeed at life. And it boggles my mind how there are people who look down on those that, despise all odds, came on top as winners. People who look at those as different and inferior, despise being successful while, funny enough, those judgmental assholes probably never had anything that stopped them from having a successful life but, somehow, they ended up with a mediocre boring life in a corner, never to be remembered by history and forgotten after their grandchildren start having children of their own… if they are even lucky enough to have children of their own!

 

 

THREE. BAD ADVISES.

Let us imagine this scenario:

You are genuinely a Transgender individual. Someone that suffers from Gender Dysphoria. You feel that you are alone in this world and you decide to seek aid from those you’ve learned that they are qualified for such. An “LGBT community”. Of course, you are desperate and you are emotionally vulnerable, so you seek this “community”. You are approached and you express your emotions and predicaments. They seem to receive you well and they are ready to offer their aid.

Now, obviously, the best aid a Transgender person can get is directions on which hospital, clinic or doctor they should seek. To be properly diagnosed and given the necessary care. The “LGBT community” role should be to, not only give the necessary directions on how to get the process started, but to also aid the Transgender-soon-to-be-Transsexual individual to have a normal and satisfying life among the other people in society. Help them with their professional life. Advise them on how to talk to their family members and friends. So on.

To some extend, that’s what a Transgender individual gets in most “LGBT communities”. But, again, life tricked you and gave you a non-binary activist as your life coach. You explain that your family and friends don’t understand you. The activist will say that the “patriarchy” is to blame, screw society. You expose your fears of never being able to “pass”, even with your transition. The activist will say that it’s “cisnormative/heteronormative” and that’s bad, blame society. Maybe you aren’t even sure that you are transgender and you explain how you feel about your gender identity. The activist clasp their hands with a smile and suggest that, maybe, that genuine Transgender is.. perhaps Non-Binary. Or maybe you don’t earn enough money for your process and you fear that you’ll never be able to be yourself. The activist will ponder for a moment and suggest that, maybe, you don’t need to transition at all; that maybe it’s best to self-identify as a “Non-Binary”, because it’s cheaper (I wish that I was joking but I’ve heard tales of this happening several times in the past in certain communities and it wouldn’t be far-fetched to believe that this actually happens).

Since you are emotionally vulnerable, you actually consider the things the activist advised to you. The activist starts seeking you to join them and their friends to some good ol’fashioned political activism. To make you feel that you are part of a community (while, at the same time, giving away your precious time and money that you won’t get back. Time that could had been wasted trying to find a job or, god forbid, seeking actual aid from those “gosh darn bigoted” professionals. Ah well, free labor and donations for the community). Slowly, you look around and you find yourself in an eco chamber. All your friends are part of the “LGBT community”. All your friends have the same political position. All your friends are victims of a “patriarchal society”. You start to hate society as it is and blame it for your condition. Those with opposing views… … Oh and you still suffer quite a lot from Gender Dysphoria, and the only suggestions you’ll get is to dye your hair every color of the rainbow and to wear clothing from both the men and women’s aisles.. because that’s exactly how you help someone with Gender Dysphoria (obvious sarcasm)!

Congratulations, you have been indoctrinated and you are now part of a political social movement. In short, a cult. Because cults aren’t a thing that exist only on the spiritual/religious sense. It’s okay, people fall for tribalism all the time, me included.

 

Seriously, do yourself a favor and seek professional aid if you are an actual Transgender person. From an actual psychologist, even if you have to spend some money. Find out how you can find a clinic or medical team in some hospital that can diagnose you, that can aid you with your transition (if that’s what you end up deciding to do).

If you really need to feel like you are part of a community with people that share the same issue as you, find one that is strictly for people with Gender Dysphoria. Not one that is part of a wide umbrella of alphabet soups, since you are less than likely to find someone like us. These smaller communities that only deal with Gender Dysphoria tend to not be politically driven and they will help you with your treatments and to have a mostly comfortable and normal life in society, together with everyone else. They will not suggest segregation, but for you to be an happy individual among other individuals in this world.

And don’t give up on your family and friends. Even if they reject you, don’t throw selfish tantrums around. There are no bad people, only people who have been badly educated. Don’t act with anger, but with kindness. Be nice, even to those that hate you. Do them favors anyway, try to do the things that they ask of you.. even if you know it won’t work. They don’t know it won’t work, they need to see their own advises failing to make you happy. And once they get to see that their aid is making you even more miserable, they will become human and they will start listening to you. Give them time and they will learn to accept you. And who knows, they may even end up supporting you!

 

 

SUGGESTIONS FOR THE NON-BINARY

I know I know. First I mocked your believes. Then I’ve claimed that you are delusional. Then I said that people shouldn’t listen to you.

Trust me when I say this, I don’t hate you. I’m not even upset about what you believe in or identify as. I will respect your pronouns because I like to make people feel good. I gain nothing from being insensitive towards you.

I even had the pleasure to speak and talk to one Non-Binary person before. Someone that has tried to reach out for me plenty of times, which I’m aware that I’ve been declining every attempt by that person to approach me. Though, to my defense, it’s because this person has only been trying to invite me to activities and gatherings that are “LGBT themed”. Sorry, that’s not my thing, I have tried, not a fan… but next time, if you just want to have some coffee or an average lunch/dinner somewhere (without the need to bring a group/gathering of “Trans” or “LGBT folk” with you), feel free to invite me! I would love that, actually. I’m an introvert, not much into “large gatherings of strangers for parties/events”. But small thought out simple yet warm, calm and cozy hangouts are my favorite! Just don’t arrange anything in nature, in the forests or outdoor parks. It’s spring, I have allergies!

 

The issue I take is that, because of your believes and labels, people can’t distinguish between someone that is Non-Binary and someone that is Transgender/Transsexual. It’s not about exclusion or segregation, it is not because you are not “Transgender/Transsexual” enough. Being Transgender/Transsexual is.. not something to take pride of. It’s an issue, much like cancer or even a genetic disease or mutation. You either have it or you don’t. You need to have Gender Dysphoria in order to be Transgender. A Transgender/Transsexual individual only identifies as either male or female.

I don’t mind that you believe there are more than two genders. I don’t even mind that you believe gender is a social construct. The same way I don’t mind that some religious people believe that I’m a sinner. However, the only solution I came up with thus far to make this fair for both groups is… if you stop calling yourself “Trans”. You’ve already labeled yourselves as “Non-Binary”, you already have your own flag. Use those things if it makes you happy and part of something big.

Just.. for the love of everything nice, please do not use genuine Transgender and Transsexual people as your shield for your believes and political agenda. Do not change the laws that support genuine Transgender/Transsexual people just so you can feel more “included”.

I’m already safe, from whatever damage you may cause to the law from this point forward. But I’m thinking about the future of others who will be influenced by your political movements in the name of the “Trans community”. I’m here to say, as someone who wants to also better understand the Non-Binary dilemmas, that I will not remain this silent for too long about your movement. Once my transition (and life overall) becomes more stable, I will take more visible steps to spread my concerns about the Non-Binary movement and how that is an issue for genuine Transgender and Transsexual people. Do not think that I will remain here in this little and insignificant blog for too long, talking to these digital walls.

 

I’ve grown.. extremely tired of this cultural war, of having the “LGBT communities” and certain dominant feminist figures and groups spreading their conspiracy theories about society and misinformation about actual Transgender/Transsexual individuals. I fear for the future of those that have yet to step forward, because I do feel that I have been lucky, considering how I’ve started my treatment and was diagnosed in the right time in history and political climate in my country. If it were one or two years too late, things could had went much worse for me and the laws would be working against me. If it were before 2010-11, the laws would be working against me as well.

I want things to get better, not worse. And I won’t be unfair for the Non-Binary either. But right now, things are heading in a direction that is unfair for those that suffer from Gender Dysphoria. and there aren’t many people in this country offering fair counterpoints to these “LGBT communities” and political movements that support these opposing believes.

 

 

Anyway, I believe that I’ve shared enough about this issue for now. I’m going to enjoy the rest of the afternoon and evening, it’s holiday here (Worker’s Day).

Tomorrow it’s the 2nd May. It’s going to be my birthday! Going to request a new ID (yay, changing my name and sex legally with the approval and diagnosis from a good number of doctors and professionals), going to work and then.. going to have a pleasant dinner~

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Warcraft Short Story – Sanity is an Illusion

 

 

Gnomeregan

The former capital city and true evidence of Gnome ingenuity. Though the Gnomes, to this very day, are still trying to retake their home slowly from the hands of Sicco Thermaplugg, one cannot deny that this race is one of the most intelligent of all Azeroth. Their kindness also knows no bounds, given that they are able to maintain a smile and still aid their allies, despise the events that have placed plenty of their own kind in danger and without a home. It will take a few more years to retake Gnomeregan, to clean it from the radiation, the troggs and from Thermaplugg himself!

However, this story takes place long before the events that have lead to the invasion of the Troggs.

 

 

Midrixie, a female Gnome that was still trying to reach adulthood, was the only child that lived with her loving parents. She was also familiar with a few other members of her family, enjoying a rather cozy social environment with those of the same blood. Together, they focused on forging metals and crafting. To create cogs, bolts and other basic necessities that a tinker needs. It was their business, though some of the family members also possessed other hobbies on their own. Midrixie was no different, being an outgoing Gnome that took interest in the most philosophical questions of the time.

While it’s true that the Gnomish historical records are very scarce, Midrixie would still question the purpose of life and how Gnomes came to be. In a forward thinking meritocratic society that values the inventions and technological breakthroughs and contributions from every individual, there has always been room for Gnomes who enjoyed studying particular fields. Her family and peers saw that aspect of her as only temporary. She was a teenager, still trying to reach adulthood and finding her own path, perhaps even a subtle hint of rebellion. Her questions could very well had meant that her future was one of a devoted in the arts of the arcane.

 

Given her family’s suspicions and predictions, they tried to encourage her thirst for answers to the most existential questions in life by asking one of their own family friends to come and visit their daughter. To answer her questions, to use her curiosity in something productive. Perhaps, even one day, becoming a Mage or, even more peculiar, a Techno Mage. This middle aged female Gnome’s name was Indus; clearly given by ambitious progenitors who wanted her daughter to be just as great as Indus, “the inventor” of Dalaran and member of the Council of Tirisfal more than two millenniums ago.

Indus, when proposed to explore the potential within Midrixie to unravel the wonders of the arcane, felt flattered and pleased with the idea of having an aspiring apprentice. Midrixie, on the other hand, remained suspicious of Indus’ kindness. Indus was, after all, aspiring to become a member of the Kirin Tor. Her support felt dishonest, but Midrixie accepted her aid nonetheless. Indus was quite demanding and she expected much of Midrixie. Growing frustrated and impatient with her student’s failures, Indus was quick to give up on Midrixie and to inform her parents that she was useless as a caster. That this teenager was too emotional and hard to rationalize with, despise her interest in philosophy.

This obviously wasn’t an experience that Midrixie would forget easily, growing some resentment for the society around her. She expressed her dissatisfaction over her family’s business, refusing to work. The signs of rebellion were evident and her parents began to feel and express their disapproval, believing the words that came from Indus on the day she returned to them with their daughter in tears.

 

Time continued to flow, Midrixie was growing older and was near adulthood. Once an extrovert, she was now avoiding contact with the people around her. She could not trust her family members, that continued to label her as a troubled teenager and someone that lacked direction in her life. She still had to invent something, to create a name in Gnomish society. A discovery, anything of importance to her own kind. Was her life destined to be a mere cog in a machine? Was that the life of a Gnome? How did it all came to be and why was no one interested in those questions?

 

Deciding to visit the surface, Midrixie traveled to Ironforge with one of her cousins. It was not the first time, though she never traveled beyond Dun Morogh. But she had seen plenty of Dwarves in her life and, thus, was somewhat familiar with their culture. It was always a refreshing view to be surrounded by Dwarves, given that they were more diverse than her own kind, or so she would always think to herself with a smile in her face. She didn’t felt the pressure to be an inventor, or a wizard. She enjoyed every moment that she was away from the influence of Gnomish society!

That day, she opened to her cousin. She explained her emotions, that she was not happy living in Gnomeregan. That, perhaps, the answer to her questions did not rest within their own capital.. but outside in the world. Touched by her words, her cousin told her that they could stay in Ironforge for a week, instead of a mere night that they had planned in order to trade their goods for a few pieces of silver coins.

During this week, Midrixie had the chance to visit the Hall of Explorers and the Library within. This fascinated her but it did not answer the questions that she had. Even she, herself, didn’t knew why these questions were of so much importance to her. Where was her curiosity leading to and why? Her obsession was a mystery to herself, not allowing her to enjoy the life that her parents had planned for her. But part of life is to grow and to become an individual, able to think for themselves. With this experience, she learned that her questions were only a manifestation of what she was feeling. Trapped, conditioned by the environment she had grown that already had a future planned for her.

She felt ready to come home and tell her parents about this discovery, that her destiny was for her to carve, to answer herself and not to ask others what was her fate as a Gnome. What is a Gnome? What is the purpose in life, for a Gnome?

 

Life isn’t easy. Once she returned home with her cousin, her parents shown concern as to why they came home nearly a week later than anticipated. Midrixie explained, feeling confident that her parents would understand, much like her cousin. To her surprise, they did not and her cowardly cousin wasn’t there to help when she needed! They expected much of her, as the only child. They could never let her go, they only wished for her daughter to remain with them and, if she so desired, expand the family lineage. Again, they concluded that it was yet another manifestation of her rebellion.

From that point forward, Midrixie was forced to work for her family. The family business, within Gnomeregan. Again, this lack of acceptance for their daughter’s free will and emotions caused her to retract from any meaningful conversation with anyone! Apathy was her companion, her heart grown cold to any form of flattery to her performance in the tasks given to her. She started to question herself, to question Gnomish society in her mind. She didn’t felt safe and loved enough to express her doubts and dark emotions.

She stopped to read, she stopped to wander in the streets of Gnomeregan. She also stopped spending time with her family outside of working hours.

 

Her thoughts were only hers to listen. And that’s when she started to talk to herself out loud, privately. Away from those that could hear her nagging, her complains, her questions, her tears, her hatred and rebellion.

But.. there’s always someone that can hear, even the darkest of secrets. Gnomeregan is an underground capital city. Within the ground, a large shadow is cast in every corner. It’s cold, logical. Much like the machinery that is build within it. And there are Gnomes that can fall into despair. Is any Gnome truly sane? There are stories that warn about the corruption of those with the most brilliant of minds when they are rejected by their peers. Midrixie, as trivial and not as tragic as her example can be compared to so many, is one of them. Born from a mere rebellion, never solved in adulthood. Her life was an illusion, created by her family and friends, much like the idea of being sane.

 

 

This darkness, this shadow.. it spoke. And it told her that “Sanity is an Illusion”.

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The Art of Patronizing

(While I can’t figure out my art style, have another basic vector drawing/featured image)

 

Good afternoon! I’m going to regret posting this on my blog but hey.. my blog, my rules~

If I’m going to regret, why post? Because, sometimes, you need to scream at a pillow. And there are those rare moments that the best pillow you have is.. your own public blog! I know right? How dreadful to go on and use an open public corner of the web to whine and complain about some first world problems! There are people that dedicate their entire lives to self pitying in the (figurative) public square and, somehow, they earn money out of that. Isn’t that nice? Eh..  I need to start writing about happier and more relatable topics. But in the meantime, here we are!

 

Patronizing. Oh my.. there will be a few people that are going to twist my words to such a degree that they will take it as a personal jab and injury to their own egos. So, here’s an advise. If you feel this doesn’t apply to you, great, move on with your life! If you feel this applies to you, then it must be for a reason. And you know how it goes, we don’t need to get along with everyone so there is no point in getting upset. The best insult you can give to someone is.. to completely ignore them!

Anyway, disclaimers aside…

 

Most people have been patronized one way or another. More so, people that belong to specific demographics that host some form of public dissonance. Either someone with a disability, from other nationality or other arbitrary factors that shouldn’t matter that much on someone’s daily life and social interaction with others. Most of all, people should be treated as individuals, with dignity and respect. Unfortunately.. that doesn’t happen all the time and that’s a shame.

Some of you may be wondering, based on that last paragraph, if this means that I’ve suffered from any form of discrimination. I mean, of course I have. Who doesn’t nowadays? I’m not that unique and special when it comes to being discriminated based on something that doesn’t affect anyone but the individual. You don’t need to be part of a “minority” or an “oppressed group” to suffer that type of discrimination. And yes, I’m using quotes since I loathe this type of thinking. My readers know how much I dislike labels and segregation, since I’m an individualist and like to treat everyone as such.. though I am quite keen on criticizing certain ideologies.

You may be wondering if I was beaten, called out on the streets, got glares and so on. Well, the amount of times I was called out have been counted with one hand so.. yes, it’s bad but at least it hurts and scares me on the moment, fearful that the individuals might do more than just one ocasional and random verbal expression of their lack of civility. But then it’s gone and you move on. Because you know those people are merely poorly educated individuals, easily dismissed. Glares? In the past I used to get more of those. Now it mostly comes from certain people who knew me for some time and look at me now. Being physically assaulted or even touched for malicious intends? Never, which is a good thing because this is the worst thing that could ever happen.. obviously!

Nah. We are going to talk about a much more subtler approach to being completely obnoxious. Of course, that of being patronized. That’s what’s been troubling me of late and I’m sure a lot of people can relate to that, no matter who they are and their own backgrounds.

 

 

 

Hopefully, I do not need to describe the act of patronizing someone. Simply put, to patronize means to express a form of sympathy for someone while, at the same time, trying to subtly convey superiority over the victim.

Normally, that leaves the victim in an awkward situation that they cannot easily reprehend the patronizer. Since doing so could easily make the victim someone rude over someone who is “just trying to be nice and helpful”. Or, worst yet, it can create a situation where the people nearby could easily, in spite for the victim’s “outburst”, avoid contact with the victim or even flatter or offer aid to the victim in any other occasion.

So, therefore, usually the safest reaction to someone that patronizes is to smile, thank them and, for future encounters, avoid any significant conversation with said individual… since the victim knows that the patronizer doesn’t actually care that much for the victim. The patronizer only wants to feel good about themselves or to virtue signal those that get to see their “kindness”.

 

Unfortunately, the patronizers have become the most common form of annoyance in today’s western society. More so than the so called “random and rare bigots on the streets”. My theory as to why is rather simple. It’s a consequence of the modern form of political correctness and the continuous adaptation to the social media’s requirement to get as much approval from the other peers as possible. The current trend, politically speaking, is to be kind to everyone.. specially if they are considered a “minority”. “Minorities” are oppressed so, if you are a good self righteous individual, you might want to share as much cases of oppression towards “minorities” as possible! Bonus points if you actually be-friend someone who is part of said “minority”.

 

The modern patronizer tends to express their support towards a “minority” or individual that suffers as often as possible. At the same time, if the victim tends to open up about their struggles once in a while, the patronizer is prone to never quite understand what is being said. They will usually paint a picture and make an overall wrong judgement of the victim’s personality and interests, their overall view of the victim is that of an stereotype.

This is easily noticeable when the victim is having a trivial conversation with the patronizer and the patronizer tries to guess what the victim did, said or is thinking in a certain situation. They never get it right, since they don’t bother to actually get to know the victim outside of their struggles and figure out how the victim would act in trivial every day situations.

It is also noticeable when the patronizer tends to exclude the victim in situations that it wouldn’t make sense to create division or segregation. This can be heard and seen, again, in everyday conversation. The patronizer, no matter what, will make sure that the victim knows that they are different from the rest.. despise their need to make sure that the victim and everyone knows that they support the victim.

In some less common cases, they will try to create situations on which they can humiliate the victim. Either subtly or less subtly when in private with the victim or when the victim is not near, in order to avoid confrontation. The patronizer does this by, occasionally, point out the flaws that the victim possesses that the patronizer, on the other hand, doesn’t. Of course, they do this to maintain some form of power and superiority over the victim, since the victim is unable to confront the patronizer without sounding psychotic. After all, the patronizer “supports” the victim, as far as everyone is concerned. If a victim is unable to avoid the patronizer’s influence over them, this tends to frustrate the victim and lower their own self-esteem, which is what some patronizers intend. Though these specific type of patronizers are actually abusive narcissists who are draining the sanity of a victim in order to maintain some superiority that they think they deserve.

 

 

So, what is the best way for a victim to break free from a patronizer’s influence?

Well, if you’re a victim of one, you’re in luck! I know a thing or two about these types of people since I still have to deal with some of these occasionally.

But one thing is important to distinguish. Do not mistake an honest compliment or a few words of support for the act of patronizing. Some people are.. not that great when expressing their true intentions. Specially if you are the “first one” they ever met of “some group” or “minority”. The difference is simple, to distinguish a patronizer from someone that genuinely cares. Someone that genuinely cares will treat you like a human being. They will bother to actually get to know you and they will talk about other things that are of common interest, never bringing up the aspects that plagues you. However, they will always be there if you feel the need to occasionally express yourself! They will never try to make you feel outlandish or “exotic”, different. They will try to invite you to their own gatherings, groups, activities. They will try to treat you like any other member of society, like any of their friends. That is the type of support that you want. You don’t want a patronizer, that will always make you feel like you are an alien that needs to be reminded that they are aliens and need to be treated as such.

With that said, here are a few advises from yours truly.

 

  • If you hardly know the person and the individual expresses their support to you, for whatever reason.. thank them but do not try to take steps to be-friend said person. Remain civil, polite and kind but allow the individual to be the one to take the first steps to form any meaningful connection/friendship. From there, it should be easy to know if you are dealing with someone that is honest or a patronizer. It much depends from how they behave from that point forward and what type of conversations they have with you. If they are a patronizer and you want to keep your sanity, remain distant and passively dismiss any attempts to form any meaningful connection/friendship. They will get tired eventually and move on, since they prey on easier to manipulate victims.
  • If you know the person and the person turns into a patronizer, be extremely careful if you both share a few friends. The patronizer will try to speak in your behalf and, if you are submissive in nature, you will want to make sure that your common friends know that there are things you don’t agree with the patronizer. Instead of criticizing the patronizer, criticize their ideas without making it personal. Make it clear that the patronizer does not share the same ideals as you and the patronizer will step back gradually. Again, they prey on easier victims. If you show to them that you are strong willed, they will not waste their time trying to patronize you. They might attempt in private to “convert” you to their way of thinking but, if you are stubborn enough, they will let you be. Though always keep a close eye to your common friends and if their behaviors change towards you. If these do, you are not dealing with a mere patronizer, but a sociopath or a narcissist. Or, least worrying, a mere zealot to whatever ideology they stand for.
  • If you know the person and the person turns into a patronizer.. but you are confident in your social skills and know how to play the emotional and psychological game.. have fun! Patronizers are society’s modern social leeches. They might think they are better than you (whenever they consciously are aware of their belief or not), but you know, deep down, you are much better than them. Find out why they are trying to patronize you, the passion that drives them to act that way and.. be sure to poke on their insecurities in order to “sedate” that horrendous aspect of their nature. Expose their flaws with dignity by pointing out your own virtues that they do not possess. Remember, they want to feel superior in a world that shames “bigotry”. So, the best way is to show confidence on your own qualities and make sure that you and they are aware of it. Of course, they will try to underplay your qualities while, at the same time, saying that they support you. But this all part of the fun, just keep doing it until they give up! But remember to always keep a close eye on your common friends.. the least you want is to be seen as egocentric, which the patronizer will try to paint you once they get frustrated enough~

 

 

And with that, I conclude this blog post, feeling like I’ve made use of one of my emotional pillows. It feels good and I hope that this post has made someone relate to the things I’ve written. Anyone can be a victim of a patronizer. It doesn’t matter what their background is or what is the aspect that they are being patronized about constantly. My advises aren’t flawless, nor is my description of a patronizer. There’s more nuance to what I’ve written.. but I do feel that it is a good summary!

Thank you for reading this and, if you’ve enjoyed this blog post, be sure to browse this website for more! Also remember to subscribe on my social media channels/accounts, share, etc~

 

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Creative Expression – The Crossroads

(Eh.. I kinda gave up midway on this featured image)

 

Good morning. Technically, I wrote this on the 1st of April.. but, to make sure people wouldn’t mistake this for a April Fools’ joke, I’ve decided to make it public today!

 

 

Creativity. That was something I used to say more proudly that I had within myself. Though I used to draw more often, create characters easily and develop entire worlds and stories out of thin air; refining those along the years.. I can’t say that’s the case currently.

It’s to no surprise for those that follow my content and posts, as little as that number actually is since I do not create content that resonates with a more visible audience. What I’ve always created publicly has been based on things that I enjoy or concern me.. rather than generating content for the sake of pleasing and attracting a larger gathering of followers or subscribers.

There has been no direction to the things I post nowadays. No obvious goal or motive behind my channels, website and social media. What was once an attempt to make my own art, stories and characters public for everyone to enjoy; has dissolved itself to posts about politics, silly things that I find amusing and sharing my own predicaments. There has been no art, no drawings, no stories to tell. Only opinions, from a voice that should probably just stay silent and allow the “grown ups to do the talking” while cheer-leading from behind the voices of reason. With likes, shares, subscriptions, comments and so on.

 

I should know better by now, as someone of my own age, to not behave this carelessly online on my public accounts. I should had kept myself to drawing and sharing stories. Again, that was the original idea when I created the pseudonym “SapphyDe90”. To focus on art, to be genuine yet kind. I guess the “art” and “kindness” got lost somewhere, leaving only the brutal honesty to the public. Unfiltered.. for most part. Lax. Perhaps naive, which is something that goes against what I am in reality.. though it is true that I can act quite childish. Personally, I don’t mind being childish on some aspects, as long I’m mature where it actually matters.

 

More and more I’ve thought to myself what to do with this pseudonym. I’ve been less motivated to draw as time passes by. Yet I’ve been felling the pressure to express my creativity somehow. It pains me that, at the age of 26 (nearly 27), I’m here thinking about what I want to do when “I grow up”. In this case, what type of artist I want to be. Again. I thought I had that set on stone, I was doing well with my art style. My stories and universes were, in my humble biased opinion, well developed and it’s a shame I never shared not even a single one to a wider audience, in a more complete sense! But, alas, people know that I’m changing. It’s a long process, that I’m quite enjoying the results that have been surprising me. But this is not the post to talk about my transition..

 

It irks me that I haven’t found myself time to properly think about what direction I want to take. How to express my creativity. I look at the time, as it flicks by. Appointments, work, resting, feeling like the worst person ever for rarely paying attention to my friends as of late. I come home, hardly feeling like doing anything productive at all. No time to think about the future.. except the treatment or the job that I have. Sometimes thinking that I should probably take time to do that one thing or another that is also important; which I do end up doing, occupying more of my time and continuing to postpone any actual attempt to find a new way to express myself.

But where is the time to think about how to express my creativity? This has been one of the most important aspects of my life, to expose my stories, settings and characters to the world; to make people feel and to make them think. To watch and smile when I see people coming up with their own interpretations. Perhaps even broaden a few minds. To also learn from the criticism, to learn more about myself and others.

 

It’s true, I’m an introvert. I’ve always been more of a listener rather than someone that talks and, while I do enjoy being with my friends, social gatherings drain me rather than invigorating. Since I’m a listener and an observer in nature, environments that produce a lot of stimuli tend to tire me easily.. given that I pay attention to every detail and really think about those details, unlike extroverts. And when there’s too many things going on, it’s no wonder that I get often lost thinking about everything around me. Which is why my definition of resting is.. not engaging with anyone and do my own thing for a while. As such, I spend most of my time soul-searching!

I dwell with emotions rather than facts, though I do appreciate (quite a lot) those that can provide facts. With facts provided by trustworthy sources, I tend to interprete how those facts affect society and the people around me. Psychology and emotions.. the human mind fascinates me and I feel that my role in society is to provide some form of guidance and emotional support. To look at society, or part of it, take note of these patterns and think abstractly about what is the passion and emotions behind the actions and words of groups and individuals. It’s not about what people stand for, say or do. But why are they acting that way? What is really going on, what do they fear, what do they actually believe?

While facts are necessary, and I do hold facts above any type of belief, I feel that the best way to tackle the issues in society is to appeal to the passions and emotions of the individuals interested in listening to the aid that I can provide. Instead of being blunt and talk about the issues and facts, I would rather express my concerns and opinions publicly by the use of symbolism, storytelling and art. What if’s, fiction, abstract. Characters, groups, universes that reflect the emotions and passions that are relatable to our own reality, daily life and current events.

That’s the type of artist I am and has been dormant of late.

 

 

When I was a child, I wanted to be an Obstetrician. Yes, I know. I was a child that, when people used to ask what I wanted to be in adulthood, I would say “I want to be a doctor that delivers babies”. Considering everything, it makes sense why I would say such a specific, yet silly thing.

I don’t think the passion behind it changed at all.. it simply took another path to reach the same goal. To nurture. When I look at everything that I’ve done and continue to passionately talk about, it becomes clearer. Why an Obstetrician? Why storytelling? Why art? Why did I chose to draw cartoons? Because I probably realized, at a really young age, that I couldn’t have children of my own.. at least the way I’ve always desired. Perhaps, before undergoing this treatment I’m currently in; drawing, storytelling and becoming an obstetrician was my way to make manifest my desire to be a mother. To teach, to love, to help someone grow and become a better person.

 

Perhaps the question is not how will I express my creativity.. but how can I nurture others? And it becomes clearer!

I don’t want to make hasty decisions. I really want to continue my treatment and reach a point that I know I’m emotionally and psychologically settled enough to decide how will I do just that. When I asked that question to myself, a few ideas came to mind. But I’m not on estrogen yet.. it’s best to wait and decide once everything becomes even more obvious.

 

 

Thank you for reading this, dear reader and here’s an advise.. analise your desires and passions, your motivations and feelings. If you have never done that honestly and with time, consider doing it.. you’ll be surprised~

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[English and Portuguese] One year later… and still shunned

 

(Para quem não sabe ler Inglês, a versão em Português encontra-se no final)

 

ENGLISH

 

Good evening.

 

This blog post is going to be a little different, for it has been a year since I’ve been disfellowshipped from the Jehovah Witnesses.

No, it’s not going to be written in the same fashion as my open letter to that cult. That one had some form of debatable humor and snarkiness. The emotions were there for that kind of writing, which I half regret. Not because I don’t think they deserve it.. but because it may have came across as hostile. Not this time.. I don’t want to be wrongly labeled as an apostate, since I respect their faith (even though I no longer believe in it).

 

I wasn’t considering doing anything of the sorts as this blog post, an “anniversary” post. There’s nothing really to celebrate here, but only to reflect. But something happened on the 13th March this year.. almost on the 15th March (which was the day and month I got disfellowshipped, back in 2016). My family tried to emotionally manipulate me. A simple action that brought me to tears when I was tricked and shown my former best friend, a Jehovah Witness. And then victim blamed by my own family, that I’m the one to blame for the shunning. The one to blame for the fact that my former best friend won’t talk to me. That my friend.. and all the people I once knew and talked to since I was child, I’m the one that knew the consequences when I was baptized at the age of 11. That, after baptism, if I decided to walk my own path, I would be shunned.

I won’t go into detail about how it was when I was a Jehovah Witness. My open letter does a good job at making a quick summary. Instead, let us talk about how my life has been after that.

 

 

Obviously, I went ahead and continued with my goals. My transition is coming along quite well! I have gained a lot from it and will continue to attain even more happiness from it. Unfortunately, you won’t be around to witness it closely. Though that’s not really something that affects me that much. I can live with that sadness.. or should I call it for what it is? Pity. Some of you are such great individuals and it is sad to see that you have chosen to repress your humanity and critical thought because you have believed and you fear for a revengeful God that will smite you down in Armageddon unless you follow blindly the words of some men.

And no, I’m not trying to persuade anyone to abandon their faith, if that’s what they want to keep. I’m lamenting, since I do still love some of you very very much and I want you to be happy as well. Most of you suffer depression, I know. Such a burden, to abandon your own inner child just for a false sensation of fulfillment and unity. Yet, you are judged on every step you take. Never perfect enough, never doing enough to please the organization. Abandoning your jobs to do more preaching. Not resting enough. Always listening and hearing the same voices over and over, voices that you sometimes don’t even want to hear! But you have to, because you are in it together. Yet you listen to men that have no idea how the human mind works, instead of the psychologists and psychiatrists who went to college to get their degrees. Degrees you don’t have, because you had to abandon everything to do even more, to be more perfect.

 

It’s fine.. I’ve looked back less and less along the year. Except for the last few months but that’s obviously because there has been a few.. emotional and psychological changes. Plus, you have been provoking me, by using my parents. Emotional blackmail, manipulation.. you know I love my family more than anything else. I am thankful, very grateful that, despise everything, you have allowed me to stay with my parents. However, I would be lying if I didn’t say that it has become a major fear of mine that, one day, a group of elders is going to pressure my parents to kick me out of the house.

As I’ve mentioned on the open letter, I have a few theories as to why. Maybe it’s because of the economic crisis we are facing here in this European country, thus you realize that I just can’t survive on my own, with the kind of money I earn.. even with a job. Maybe it’s because you think that I’m insane, given your ignorance about my own predicament that you have avoided to do some research about.. since the world is “controlled by Satan” and thus everything that goes against your believes must be wrong and manipulative, period! Or maybe because you have hope that my parents will be able to persuade me, to come back. After all, I was someone quite dear to a lot of the local Jehovah Witnesses on this area.

Or maybe.. you do have a heart. Maybe you do realize that there is something not quite right with the way things were handled. After all, my family left the congregation and joined another on a different area.. just a few months after the announcement. I know they were unhappy with how things were “solved” in that previous congregation. And I agree, even for Jehovah Witnesses standards, you dealt with my own case sooo poorly and sourly! You just wanted to strip away my father’s privilegies, didn’t you? And once that was done, you acted more formally.. less preoccupied. It’s like you no longer cared that much for what happened afterwards. That is.. until the congregation got new elders, then they were the ones that got worried and that’s when I was disfellowshipped.

But hey, my parents are happier in the new congregation. Good on them! They are in their 60’s, they deserve a calmer and simpler life from now on. And I’m sure some of those elders from the former congregation are happier too without us. Can’t say the same about some of the local baptized publishers.. .. hmm.

 

 

To conclude this blog post, I want to talk about what made me decide, on the last second, to write this blog post instead of getting ahead with my third month update (as in, related to my transition). I’m sorry, but this became a sudden priority over that post. I’ll write a late third month update on the next weekend though!

It’s good to note that this was quite coincidental. It’s the 13rd of March, as I write this. Translating all of this to Portuguese on the 14th. I didn’t had this planned on my mind at all, even though I was aware that we were near the 15th of March.. and the meaning behind that day. Actually, funny story. I was baptized on the 15th of February 2002. Disfellowshipped on the 15th of March 2016. I also started my transition on the 15th of December 2016. The number 15 is starting to symbolize something in my life, at least that’s the pattern! Anyway..

 

It was a Monday. I left work a bit early because, again, I had yet another appointment. It makes me feel bad for having to leave work sometimes, because of health related aspects. Fortunately, the people I answer to, they know it’s simply something I have to do. To go. So I left, to travel home and eat before the appointment. It was important to eat before this appointment, for reasons that I will not go into detail.

I had little time to be at home. However, after eating dinner, I found myself around 10 minutes to sit on the living room before walking off to my appointment. My parents were there, I was checking on my phone and messaging a friend of mine.

Suddenly, my father calls for my attention and I gaze over to what he wanted to show me. From afar, I saw the face of someone I haven’t seen for years.. my former best friend, a Jehovah Witness that lives in the United States, California (near LA). I couldn’t see her face properly from afar, the quality of the youtube video he was showing was bad and I do need better glasses (I’m short-sighted).. but I knew that face. I narrowed my eyes because I couldn’t believe that I was watching her. But then, from his headphones, I heard her singing and playing the piano. She loved playing the piano.. and singing.

My heart felt, together with a longing feeling of nostalgia. I had to look away.. acted dismissively to what my father was trying to show me. “I don’t want to see that.. why are you showing me this?” But even though I wasn’t looking, he didn’t lower the volume from his headphones. I could still hear her. I had to look back.. telling him to lower the sound. I had to repeat that a good number of times, because he didn’t hear me or didn’t understood me. Until I had to say “I don’t want to hear or see that as long I’m in this room, please.. get that video away from me.”

He acted offended.. probably because I somehow raised my voice and sounded like I was ordering him, instead of understanding that what he was showing was causing me distress. But he turned it off, and I reluctantly thanked him.

 

In that brief silence, I started to remember the good moments I had with her.

The things we talked, the things we laughed about. Of the things we shared, the things that made me suffer, the things that made her suffer. Her goals, my goals. All over the internet.. until I went on a vacation by myself to LA, in August/September 2010.

For three weeks, I slept and shared her family’s house. I hardly spent a dollar, except for the plane tickets I bought to get there and later come back, a meal or two at best, one souvenir and Disneyland tickets that I bought for myself and her (it was the minimal I could do, considering how much I saved money from everything). The people I’ve met, her friends. The places we went together, the memories. The silly things she and I did..

Her family was awesome as well! Her parents treated me like one of their own children. Even at one time, when I started to lose my senses after the first week, when we were out having dinner with a large group of people that were their friends. I was aided back to their car and was treated with special care until I lied in bed to sleep and recover (extremely long travels affect you). Her younger sister, a delight and polite child back then (must be a teen right now).

When I tried to mimic their Spanish accent (She was American, but her parents were Mexican immigrants), so that I could be able to read their language correctly. When they asked me to sing in my own language.. and I did horribly but they were fascinated anyway because they were hearing Portuguese straight out of a Portuguese native in their own backyard on a summer night.

When the last day came and I cried.. tears of both happiness and also of sadness. Because I wouldn’t be able to see them anytime soon. But a promise was formed, they were going to visit Portugal in 2012 during their planed European trip.. and they did.

Two years after, I saw them again face to face in my own house. They didn’t pay for much, just the same way I didn’t pay for a lot when I was there. The amazing car travel we did between Portugal to Barcelona (Spain), for them to catch their cruise across the Mediterranean Sea and visit a few other European Countries. Such an adventure, I had my driver licence less than a year and still I drove, with my father leading the way in his own car.. given that we brought two cars for the two families and they couldn’t drive in Europe.

The tan I’ve gained from that trip that lasted me a full year (not even joking). The things we talked again, the laughter and the jokes. I still remember very well when we were close to Madrid, a 100 KM long slow traffic to reach it, lasted four to five hours. An elderly Spanish family was looking at us, in their own car next to us. They smiled at us.. but the man sneezed. My friend turned to me, saying that he was probably allergic to youth. For some reason.. that made me laugh for 30 minutes to the point that everyone in the car felt awkward about it. I was laughing.. because I was happy. I didn’t wanted it to end..

But it ended, when we reached Barcelona. Both my family and theirs shared hugs, tears.. and a promise was left in the air. That next time, my whole family would visit the US, instead of just me…

That last promise.. it never happened.

 

She got herself busy, trying to get a job after finishing her education. Then started to dedicate herself more to what used to be the same believes as mine. She started to learn other languages, to become a better publisher.

I came out to her, about my own predicament. She was there, she listened.. though her advises weren’t exactly helpful. But her attention was. Her intentions were good.

She shared more of her own worries, about how some of her close friends and even crushes were getting disfellowshipped, or moving elsewhere to another congregation or country. This.. at a time that I knew it was eventually going to happen to me. I knew I was going to make her suffer more.. but I comforted her, said the things a Jehovah Witness always says in these situations. She thanked me..

That was the last meaningful talk we had. She got herself too busy and, after that encounter, I stopped answering her messages too. I wanted our bond to fade away slowly with time, before the inevitable. So that we could both.. maybe suffer less.

When I was disfellowshipped, by coincidence, she decided to reactivate her Facebook account just a few days afterward. She always said that Facebook was a distraction for her spiritual goals, but now that I look back, I believe Facebook reminded her of those friends she had lost in her life. She didn’t know.. she didn’t know I was disfellowshipped. She started interacting with my posts on Facebook.. and I had to tell her.

Her reaction and the last words I’ve heard from her, over at Facebook:

“I understand… I appreciate you informing me… Unless you decide to change your mind later on, I must now say goodbye. Goodbye.”

 

It was over, because I told her I was disfellowshipped. She suffered, the same way she suffered when all of those former friends moved on with their lives elsewhere or also got disfellowshipped.

And I too suffered.. and continue to suffer.

In the meantime, I’ve also learned that her mother got cancer. Of course, I couldn’t do anything about it. Not even send my best wishes to the family. I don’t know what type of cancer. I don’t know.. a lot.

 

When I heard her sing on youtube, when I saw her face.. the way she played the piano. It felt that she was in pain. I’ve felt that she was not only singing.. but she was releasing the pressure within. Or maybe.. it was all my imagination, that maybe I was the one in pain at that moment when all of those memories came to mind, projecting my emotions onto her. Maybe wishing that she, too, missed me.

 

 

After all that, I cried.. and all I’ve heard was my mother blaming me, that I shouldn’t be crying because I knew what was at play when I “decided” to walk my own path. Needless to say that we argued. And I obviously didn’t went to the appointment at the end..

 

… This is how shunning feels like. Tears, nostalgia, pity, loss, sadness, anger, rebellion. For a Jehovah Witness, you become less of a human, you are worst than dirt. You are a corpse that will never sink under the ground. Like a body that has been possessed by a demon, you are a walking mongrel that brings bad memories to the faithful and righteous Jehovah Witnesses. Completely selfish and evil. Your feelings don’t matter. What matters is that the Jehovah Witnesses suffer just by your presence. If you are suffering, it’s your fault.. no matter what. “You know what you did, it was a choice, you choose to abandon us. So you shouldn’t be crying and complaining.”, that’s what they’ll say.

 

You’re.. cruel, Watchtower. So very cruel! Using my friends and family as emotional blackmail.. how dare you.

 

 

P.S. I still have the gift my former friend gave to me when she visited me and my family in Portugal. It has been resting on my desk, always on a visible spot.

 

 

 

PORTUGUÊS

 

Boa tarde.

 

Este post vai ser um pouco diferente, visto que já fez um ano desde que fui desassociada das Testemunhas de Jeová.

Não, este post não vai ser escrito da mesma forma que a minha carta aberta para o culto. Aquele post continha algum humor e sarcasmo questionável. As emoções que tive no momento foram oportunas para esse estilo de escrita, pelo qual arrependo-me um pouco. Não porque pense que eles não o mereceram.. mas porque poderia ter sido interpretado como uma mensagem hostil. Desta vez não.. eu não quero ser acusada erradamente de ser uma apóstata, porque respeito a fé deles (apesar de a não compartilhar).

 

Eu não estava a considerar fazer algo de especial como este post de blog, um post de “aniversário”. Não existe grandes motivos para celebrar, mas apenas para reflectir. Mas algo aconteceu no dia 13 de Março deste ano.. perto do dia 15 de Março (o dia e mês pelo qual fui desassociada, em 2016). A minha família tentou manipular-me em termos emocionais. Uma simples acção que me fez chorar visto que fui enganada a ver a minha antiga (melhor) amiga, uma Testemunha de Jeová.  E depois fui acusada pela minha própria família, de que eu é que tinha culpa das Testemunhas de Jeová evitarem qualquer tipo de contacto comigo. A culpada da minha amizade antiga não falar comigo. Que a minha amiga.. e todas as pessoas que conhecia e falava no passado desde a minha infância, eu sou aquela que sabia as consequências quando fui baptizada aos 11 anos de idade. De que, depois do baptismo, se eu decidi-se caminhar o meu próprio caminho, que toda a comunicação seria cortada com as Testemunhas de Jeová.

Eu não irei detalhar o meu passado quando era uma Testemunha de Jeová. A minha carta aberta faz um bom resumo. Em vez disso, vamos falar de como tem sido a minha vida após a sentença.

 

 

Obviamente, eu continuei com os meus objectivos. A minha transição tem corrido bastante bem! Eu estou a ganhar muito com este tratamento e irei continuar a adquirir ainda mais motivos para sentir-me feliz. Infelizmente, as Testemunhas de Jeová não irão presenciar essas mudanças positivas de perto. Mas não é algo que me afecta assim tanto. Eu consigo viver bem com essa tristeza.. ou será que deveria chamar este sentimento pelo nome correcto? Pena. Alguns de vocês são indivíduos maravilhosos e é bastante triste ver que vocês escolheram reprimir a vossa própria humanidade e pensamento crítico porque vocês preferem acreditar e de ter receio de ser punidos por um Deus vingativo durante o Armagedom, a não ser que sigam de perto e cegamente um grupo de homens imperfeitos como o resto.

E não, não vou persuadir ninguém a abandonar a sua fé, se é isso que querem manter. Eu lamento, porque eu ainda amo alguns de vocês e desejo a vossa felicidade também. Alguns de vocês sofrem de depressão, eu sei. O peso, de terem abandonado a criança que vive em vocês apenas para obterem uma falsa sensação de realização e de fraternidade. Mesmo assim, vocês são julgados por tudo aquilo que fazem e dizem. Nunca suficientemente perfeitos, nunca fazendo o suficiente para a organização. Abandonando os vossos trabalhos para pregar ainda mais. Falta de descanço. Sempre a ouvir as mesmas vozes vez após vez, vozes que até mesmo nem querem ouvir mais! Mas têm que ouvir, porque estão unidos na fé. Apesar de terem que ouvir a homens que não fazem a menor idea de como a mente humana funciona, em vez de ouvirem os psicólogos e psiquiatras que estudaram nas suas universidades para obterem o diploma. Diplomas que não tem, porque tiveram que abandonar tudo para fazerem ainda mais, para serem mais perfeitos.

 

Não há problema.. eu tenho olhado menos para trás ao longo deste ano. Excepto nestes últimos meses mas isso é porque obviamente tem existo algumas.. mudanças emocionais e psicológicas. Ainda mais, vocês tem estado a provocar-me, usando os meus pais. Chantagem emocional, manipulação.. vocês sabem bem que eu amo a minha família acima de tudo. Eu estou grata, muito grata que, apesar de tudo, vocês permitiram que eu fica-se com os meus pais. Mas estaria a mentir por omissão se não dissesse que um dos meus maiores medos tornou-se a possibilidade de, um dia, um grupo de anciãos decida pressionar os meus pais para mandar-me fora de casa.

Como mencionei na carta aberta que escrevi, eu tenho algumas teorias pelo qual vocês decidiram assim. Poderá ser devido às condições económicas deploráveis que vivemos no nosso pais Europeu, logo sabem que eu nunca conseguiria sobreviver por conta própria, com o dinheiro que ganho.. mesmo com um trabalho. Também poderá ser porque acreditem que sou maluca, devido à vossa ignorância com respeito ao meu dilema, pelo qual não fizeram a vossa pesquisa.. visto que o mundo é “controlado por Satanás” e logo tudo o que vai contra as vossas crenças deve ser errado e manipulativo, ponto final! Ou se calhar porque vocês tem esperança que os meus pais irão convencer-me, para voltar à organização. Afinal de contas, eu fui alguém muito querida para muitas Testemunhas de Jeová nesta localidade.

Ou se calhar.. vocês até tem um coração. Poderá ser que tenham percebido que algo não esteve bem na forma pelo qual o meu assunto foi manejado por vocês. É bom notar que a minha família saiu da congregação e juntaram-se a outra numa localidade diferente.. apenas alguns meses depois do anúncio. Eu sei que eles ficaram tristes com a forma como as coisas foram “lidadas” na congregação anterior. E concordo, mesmo de acordo com os princípios que as Testemunhas de Jeová seguem, vocês lidaram mal com o meu caso, com frieza! Vocês queriam apenas retirar os privilégios do meu Pai, não é? E assim que o fizeram, vocês agiram de forma mais formal.. com menos preocupação e cuidado. Até parece que vocês não queriam mesmo saber do que poderia acontecer após isso. Isso é.. até que a congregação recebeu novos anciãos, então aí sim ouve preocupação, acabando na minha desassociação.

Mas não há problema, há males que vem para o bem, os meus pais são mais felizes na nova congregação. Ainda bem para eles! Eles já estão nos seus 60’s, eles merecem uma vida muito mais simples e calma a partir daqui. E tenho a certeza que alguns desses anciãos da congregação antiga até estão contentes sem nós. Não posso dizer o mesmo com respeito a alguns dos publicadores baptizados.. .. hmm.

 

 

Para concluir este post de blog, eu quero falar acerca daquilo que me fez decidir, no último segundo, escrever este post em vez de adiantar a terceira actualização mensal (isto é, no que diz respeito à minha transição). Peço desculpa, mas isto tornou-se uma maior prioridade. Eu irei escrever essa actualização tardia no próximo fim de semana!

É bom notar que isto foi uma pura coincidência. É dia 13 de Março, neste preciso momento. Traduzindo tudo para português no dia 14. Eu não tinha planeado nada, apesar de estar consciente que estamos perto do dia 15 de Março.. e o significado desse dia. Aliás, curiosamente, eu baptizei-me no dia 15 de Fevereiro de 2002. Desassociada no dia 15 de Março de 2016. Eu também comecei o meu tratamento no dia 15 de Dezembro de 2016. O número 15 está a conter um significado especial na minha vida, pelo menos é esse o padrão! De qualquer forma..

 

Foi uma segunda feira. Eu saí mais cedo do trabalho porque, de novo, tinha uma marcação. Sinto-me culpada o ter que sair do trabalho assim tantas vezes, por motivos de saúde. Felizmente, as pessoas pelo qual lido no local de trabalho, elas sabem bem que é algo que tenho de fazer. De ir. Por isso eu saí, para voltar a casa e comer antes da marcação. Era bastante importante comer antes da marcação, por motivos que não vou entrar em detalhe.

Eu tive pouco tempo para estar em casa. Mesmo assim, depois do jantar, eu consegui arranjar 10 minutos para sentar-me na sala antes de ter que sair. Os meus pais estavam lá e eu estava a ver o meu telemóvel, a escrever para uma amiga minha.

De repente, o meu pai chama-me, pedindo atenção. Eu dou-lhe, olhando para aquilo que ele queria mostrar. De longe, eu vi a cara de uma pessoa que já não vejo à alguns anos.. a minha melhor amiga, de outros tempos. Uma Testemunha de Jeová que vive nos Estados Unidos, Califórnia (perto de Los Angeles). Eu não consegui enxergar bem a cara dela, a qualidade do vídeo do youtube que ele estava a mostrar era mau e eu estou mesmo a precisar de uns óculos novos (sou míope).. mas eu reconheci a cara. Eu ajustei a minha visão porque eu nem estava a acreditar que estava a ver a ela. Mas, dos headphones do meu pai, eu ouvi ela cantar e a tocar o piano. Ela amava tocar o piano.. e também de cantar.

O meu coração caiu-me aos pés, juntamente com as saudades. Eu tive que olhar para outra direcção.. agir de forma desconsiderada ao que o meu pai estava a tentar mostrar-me. “Eu não quero ver isso.. porque é que estás a mostrar-me isto?” Mas mesmo apesar de não estar a olhar, ele não baixou o som dos headphones. Ainda conseguia ouvi-la. Eu tive que olhar de volta.. para dizer-lhe para abaixar o som. Eu tive que repetir várias vezes, porque ele não tinha-me ouvido ou não tinha percebido. Até que tive de dizer “Eu não quero ver ou ouvir isso enquanto estiver nesta divisão, por favor.. tira esse video da minha frente.”

Ele agiu de forma ofendida.. provavelmente porque eu aumentei o tom da minha voz e isso deve ter sido interpretado como uma ordem, em vez de ser entendido como um momento de aflição associado ao que ele estava a mostrar-me. Mas ele pausou o video, e eu relutantemente agradeci-lhe.

 

Naquele momento de silêncio, eu relembrei-me dos bons momentos que tive com ela.

As coisas que falámos, as coisas pelo qual nos fizeram rir. As coisas que partilhámos, as coisas que fizerem-me sofrer, as coisas que fizeram-lhe sofrer. Os meus alvos, os alvos dela. Tudo pela internet.. até que fui de férias sozinha para Los Angeles em Agosto/Setembro de 2010.

Durante três semanas, eu dormi e partilhei a mesma casa que a família dela. Eu mal gastei um cêntimo, excepto o dinheiro que gastei nos bilhetes de avião, uma refeição ou duas, um souvenir e dois bilhetes para a Disneyland que comprei para mim e para ela (era o mínimo que poderia fazer, considerando o dinheiro que poupei com quase tudo). As pessoas que conheci, as amizades dela. Os locais que fomos juntas, as memórias. As tolices que ela e eu fizemos..

A família dela também foi um espanto! Eles trataram-me como se fosse filha deles. Mesmo naquela vez, quando comecei a perder os meus sentidos após a primeira semana, quando estávamos a jantar fora juntamente com um grupo enorme de pessoas que eram amigos deles. Fui ajudada de volta para o carro deles, tratada com carinho e preocupação até ao momento que deitei-me numa cama para dormir e recuperar (as viagens longas afectam as pessoas). A irmã mais nova, um amor e muito bem educada (agora uma adolescente sem dúvida).

Quando eu tentei imitar o sotaque Espanhol-Mexicano deles (Ela era Americana, mas os pais dela eram Mexicanos imigrantes), para conseguir ler a língua deles correctamente. Quando eles pediram para cantar na minha própria língua.. pelo qual fiz horrivelmente mas eles estavam fascinados porque eles estavam a ouvir Português directamente de uma Portuguesa nativa, no quintal deles durante uma noite de verão.

Quando chegou o último dia e eu chorei.. lágrimas de alegria e de tristeza também. Porque eu não iria os ver durante muito tempo. Mas foi feita uma promessa, de que eles iriam visitar Portugal em 2012 durante a sua viagem de sonhos pela Europa.. e eles o fizeram.

Dois anos depois, eu os vi de novo cara a cara na minha própria casa. Eles não pagaram muito, tal e qual como eu não paguei muito enquanto eu estive lá. A viagem de carro maravilhosa que fizemos entre Portugal e Barcelona (Espanha), para eles apanharem o cruzeiro que iria viajar pelo Mar Mediterrâneo e visitar alguns países da Europa. Uma aventura única, eu tinha a minha carta de condução à menos de um ano e mesmo assim conduzi, com o meu pai a liderar no próprio carro dele.. visto que as duas famílias foram juntas e eles não podiam conduzir na Europa.

O bronze que adquiri naquela viagem que durou um ano inteiro (não estou a brincar). As coisas que falámos de novo, as gargalhadas e as piadas. Eu ainda me lembro bem quando estávamos perto de Madrid, a 100 KM e com uma fila lenta à nossa frente que durou entre quatro a cinco horas. O casal Espanhol idoso a olhar para nós, no seu próprio carro ao lado de nós. Eles a sorrirem para a nossa direcção.. até que o homenzinho espirrou. A minha amiga virou-se para mim, dizendo que ele provavelmente era alérgico à juventude. Por qualquer razão.. isso me fez rir durante 30 minutos ao ponto que toda a gente no carro sentiu-se embaraçado com a situação. Eu ria-me.. porque sentia-me feliz. Eu não queria que essa felicidade acaba-se..

Mas chegou a acabar, quando chegamos a Barcelona. As nossas famílias abraçaram-se, partilharam lágrimas.. e uma promessa ficou no ar. Que para a próxima vez, a minha família inteira iria visitar os Estados Unidos, em vez de apenas eu…

Essa última promessa.. nunca foi comprida.

 

Ela ficou ocupada, a tentar arranjar um emprego após o curso. Depois ela começou a dedicar mais tempo naquilo que pelo qual ambas acreditávamos. Ela começou a aprender outras línguas, para se tornar uma publicadora melhor.

Eu falei-lhe com respeito ao meu dilema. Ela esteve lá, a ouvir.. apesar dos conselhos dela não serem de grande ajuda. Mas a atenção dela ajudou. As intenções eram boas.

Ela partilhou mais as coisas que lhe preocupavam, acerca das amizades próximas que ela tinha e até mesmo paixonetas que foram desassociadas, ou mudaram para outra congregação ou país. Isto.. numa altura em que eu já sabia que o mesmo me iria acontecer cedo ou mais tarde. Eu sabia que iria fazê-la sofrer mais.. mas eu dei o apoio moral e emocional que ela necessitava, dizendo as coisas que uma Testemunha de Jeová diria numa situação dessas. Ela agradeceu-me..

Essa foi a última conversa significativa que tivemos. Ela continuou a ocupar-se e, depois daquele momento, eu também deixei de responder às mensagens dela. Eu queria que a nossa amizade fosse quebrando aos poucos com o tempo, antes do inevitável. Para que ambas pudéssemos talvez.. sofrer menos.

Quando fui desassociada, por coincidência, ela decidiu reactivar o Facebook dela uns dias depois. Ela sempre dizia que o Facebook era uma distracção para os alvos espirituais dela, mas agora que olho para atrás, eu acredito agora que o Facebook lhe fazia relembrar das amizades que ela foi perdendo ao longo da vida. Ela não sabia.. ela não sabia que tinha sido desassociada. Ela começou a interagir com os meus posts no Facebook.. e eu tive que lhe dizer.

A reacção dela e as últimas palavras que ouvi dela, por Facebook:

“Eu percebo… eu agradeço o teres informado a mim… A não ser que decidas mais tarde mudar de ideias, eu tenho que te dizer adeus. Adeus.”

 

E acabou assim, porque lhe disse que tinha sido desassociada. Ela sofreu, da mesma forma que ela sofreu quando todas as outras amizades seguiram as suas vidas ou também foram desassociados.

E eu também sofri.. e continuo a sofrer.

Durante este tempo, eu vim a saber que a mãe dela tem cancro. Claro, eu não podia fazer nada com relação a isso. Nem sequer enviar os meus melhores desejos para a família. Eu não sei que tipo de cancro ela tem. Eu não sei.. muita coisa.

 

Quando eu ouvi-a cantar no youtube, quando eu vi a cara dela.. a forma que ela tocava o piano. Eu senti que ela estava a sofrer. Eu senti que ela não estava apenas a cantar.. mas que estava a livrar-se da pressão dentro dela. Ou se calhar.. foi tudo minha imaginação, se calhar eu era a pessoa que estava a sofrer naquele momento quando aquelas memórias vieram ao de cima, projectando as minhas emoções nela. Se calhar desejando que ela, também, senti-se minha falta.

 

 

Depois disso tudo, eu chorei.. e tudo o que ouvi foi a minha mãe a culpar-me, de que eu não deveria estar a chorar porque eu sabia bem o que estava em risco quando eu “decidi” caminhar o meu próprio caminho. Escusado dizer que nós discutimos. E eu obviamente já nem compareci para a marcação que tinha..

 

… Isto é o que uma pessoa sente após uma desassociação. Lágrimas, saudades, pena, perda, raiva, revolta. Para uma Testemunha de Jeová, tu perdeste o valor como uma criatura humana, és pior que o pó do chão. Tu és como cadáver que nunca mais volta para a terra. Como um corpo possuído por um demónio, tu és uma desgraça que transporta as más memórias cada vez que uma Testemunha de Jeová fiel e reto olha para ti. Completamente egoísta e má. Os teus sentimentos não importam. O que importa é que as Testemunhas de Jeová é que sofrem pela tua presença. Se estás a sofrer, a culpa é tua.. não importa o que se diga ou faça. “Tu sabes bem o que fizeste, foi uma escolha, tu escolheste nos abandonar. Portanto nem devias estar a chorar e a queixar-te.”, isto é o que eles te dirão sempre.

 

Vocês são.. cruéis, Watchtower. Tão tão cruéis! Usando as minhas amizades e família como chantagem emocional.. como se atrevem.

 

 

P.S. Eu ainda tenho o presente que a minha antiga amiga me deu quando ela e a família dela visitaram-me a mim e a minha família em Portugal. Tem estado na minha secretária, sempre num local visível.

Pages:

Politics

 

(This has to be the dumbest choice for a featured image I’ve came up with so far)

 

Hey!

 

Let’s talk about a fun topic that everybody absolutely adores to talk about! Politics, am I right?

Such a broad topic, what is the purpose of this blog post? To click bait you, of course! No, but really.. the goal is simple, to expose what I personally stand for. To mark a position within the madness and extremists. To define and attempt to explain to my small small audience why I talk about politics the way that I do, because there seems to be some confusion and misrepresentations of what I believe and stand for when I post on my Twitter (which, in return, posts on my public Facebook page).

People have been on the edge within their own eco chambers and are quick to toss around a few neat labels to me personally (and others, for that matter) because I don’t go along with some flawed narrative. And you know what that means! It means I’m a rebel on the opposite side of the political spectrum! That’s not very nice and a gross generalization of people with different opinions. Please stop that..

 

First of, I hate politics. Left, Right, Center, sideways, slightly to the left, a little bit to the right.. I don’t care. I really don’t. I’m not aligned with any political party, they are all terrible (granted, some tend to be louder and more annoying now and then). I’m not aligned with any politician, some are better than others but I’m not loyal to any. I just criticize stupidity, no matter what shape and color it has. Simple!

So let’s avoid labeling me as X and Y supporter or belonging to this or that political or social movement. Screw that and screw you, from the bottom of my heart. I have no time for cult thinking and I don’t argue with people who are quick to regurgitate labels around to the point those very same words mean absolutely nothing from the mouth of venom dripping snakes. You tend to gain immunity to venom when it’s spilled everywhere. But hey, whatever makes you feel self righteous! Glad to have helped~

 

Now, to explain my political view of the world, it’s best to describe my political journey. So let’s lower our pitchforks and holy waters and be humans for a moment..

 

As some people are aware, I was born within a christian cult. Of course, people tend to not know what that implies and are quick to rationalize that I was just part of a christian religion. No different than a Catholic or whatever other religion. That’s quite a wrong way to look at things and a very naive approach, because there are some religions that do provoke more psychological damage to an individual than others. And my former religion was a CULT, with capital letters.

To make it brief, since this is not the right blog post to talk about the cult in question, the cult has a quite defined “us versus them” mentality in the form of “Our religion against the whole world”. Plus, it’s a doomsday cult.. so some paranoia exists between the members of the cult who can’t wait for Armageddon to come! Then there’s the whole aspect that the cult believes that the entire world is controlled by Satan, much like an invisible demonic chess board that nobody is aware. And Satan controls the world by the use of Politics, Economics and Religion.

If, for some reason, you no longer want to be part of the cult or be micromanaged on absolutely everything by the superiors of this cult.. you are shunned by every member of the very same cult. Including family members and friends who are part of it. And what I mean by shunned is that they can no longer talk to you, literally. So you can imagine that it is not a very pleasant feeling when you have to make a decision between keeping all your social connections OR stay true to your own ideas and views. You can’t have both, unlike pretty much the majority of the religions where people are free to leave without any form of major punishment.

 

In this environment, I didn’t really cared for politics. Because it wasn’t worth it, Armageddon was coming eventually so why waste time with such petty things?

But then I left the cult, I no longer believed the things that they preached. On my search, when questioning my former beliefs, I came across a few atheist Youtube channels who criticized the Bible and provided convincing evidence that Christianity and, for that matter, every other religion was.. wrong.

But, with that search, I started to notice that some of those very same channels were criticizing a few political movements. Modern Feminism and all of that Social Justice nonsense. I never heard of those things until then, but something caught my attention. That somehow, among the drama, transgender people were involved. “Transgender people.. and politics? Okay, now I have to know what was going on, all the nuance!”, that’s what I thought three-two years ago.

And from there, I found a rabbit hole that I’ve been digging for a long time. American Politics, European Politics.. Left, Right, Alt-Right, Social Justice, Feminism, Gamergate, Libertarians, Authoritarians, Nationalism, Anarchists, Socialists, Communists, etc etc etc.

 

It has become a hobby that I have to keep myself updated. It’s actually amazingly frightening how everything is connected and to witness the world react to these things without the average person even knowing the origins of the political mess we are in.

 

I tend to do my own research, though it is true that there are some very specific people that I tend to listen the most as my source of news. Because I’ve listened to the way that some of these people talk and analyzed their own world views and ideals.. to the point that I trust them enough. And also because I’ve witnessed the mainstream media lying constantly to the point that I can’t even take them seriously without getting mildly annoyed about certain news articles that I’ve learned beforehand and know most of the nuance before anyone walks up to me and says “Have you heard about…”. And every single time that someone comes to me and asks that, I already have built a narrative and came to my own conclusions about the topic before it reaching the newspapers or national TV.

I never understood why some people get mad when someone points out the lies the media sometimes comes up with. Surely the people know that the media does that now and then, so why the surprise? The truth is that journalism is kinda dead. It has been about sensationalism for quite some time and whatever makes the people click on the news article to read it. Whatever gets the clicks, that’s what’s reported on. Sometimes, it doesn’t matter if it’s the truth or not but whenever or not it will get a response. And does anyone actually believe that journalists do a deep research into the issue? They don’t.. they just replicate the same news articles from the more mainstream news outlets. They see what the major news outlets are talking about and they go with it. Which is why I don’t spend time reading my own country’s news articles. I know where they get the news, which is why I’m one step ahead before the people around me ask “Have you heard about…”. Yes, I’ve heard about it. Have you looked at the nuance though? No? Too complicated? Don’t have time? Oh, you just want to feel good and will say anything that sounds good to the ears of those who know little about the subject? Oh, do go on, I can’t wait for the moment you slap me with a grossly exaggerated label just because you didn’t do your homework! I’m the degenerate here after all who spends at least an hour a day to get updated on the many daily shenanigans all over the world while you are the morally upright individual that ecos the words you heard on TV or from everydayfeminism or buzzfeed or infowars.. how predictable.

 

Anyway, I tend to not care that much for the things that happen in my own country, politically speaking. Why? It’s just an eco of what happens everywhere else. Test it for yourself! Look at something that happens on one of the major countries in the European Union. Look at what happens in the United States or Canada. It will most likely happen in a few weeks or months right afterwards. A year or two at best!

Want an example? Here:

1st February – United States | 7th March – Portugal

I don’t need to look deep into my own country’s insignificant and downgraded version of what happened in the United States on the 1st of February to know what happened. Students gathered and decided to label the speaker as a fascist and a bigot, rioted and the speeches got canceled. Nothing quite fantastic and spectacular, except the usual name calling, gross exaggeration of the public figures in question and their views.. and thus they were silenced for a day because of their “hate speech”. Now, I don’t defend these two public figures and, to be completely honest, I know nothing about Jaime Nogueira Pinto in specific.. but I defend their right to speak whatever they want. I defend EVERYONE’S right to speak, without censorship. Even the most crazed lunatics. Clearly there’s an audience and if someone has strong feelings against whatever these two believe, why not have a debate instead of crying loudly about “hate speech”? Just.. argue, debate, provide evidence, debunk their ideas and strip away their audience fairly. But you don’t do things fairly, do you.. oh left?

 

Oh.. don’t you go shouting that I’m “right winged” or “alt-right”. You are soo far on the left to know what a right wing is, of course everything that is different to your view is “right winged”. But you should feel flattered! I give the left side soo much attention and critique, it’s like I actually care for the things you say and do. And you’re right, I do.. more than the right. Because I know the right side is obviously just as silly. The reason why I’ve been criticizing the left mostly is because you have become a nuisance on my daily life. I wish I could sit here, typing a wall of text as to why Trump’s awful. About his ridiculous wall against Mexico. About how he deny’s Global Warming and whatever the hell is an “alternative fact”. About his Anti-Science policies. About his hair.

I wish I could.. I really do. But my schedule is filled with debunks about something that some left side individual said that is completely detached from reality. You know, things like some underground reptilian armies and Satan– oh.. sorry, I mean patriarchy and identity politics! They kinda fall into the same category of conspiracy theories with no actual concrete evidence. Probably some “alternative facts” or something a feminist at some college wrote, much like a biblical prophet writing a book that cannot be questioned or else you will be shunned or stoned to death!

 

Plus, it’s not like the right winged side doesn’t have their own insults against my own person. I’ve been called a social justice warrior just by the fact that I’m a transsexual and have a blue haired cartoon character as an online alter ego! It’s just a cartoon character.. I don’t actually have blue hair nor do I aspire to dye my hair with an exotic hair color. I don’t like that kind of attention, I just want to blend in with society. I like modesty, yet elegant. Yes, I know radical feminists tend to dye their hair in such colors but it is of extreme importance that one knows the difference between a cartoon character and reality! No, really.. I don’t look like my cartoon character. I believe that I’m better looking in reality, though I guess that’s subjective.

I’ve also been called a Cultural Marxist by those who are nationalist right leaning individuals. Because I believe that being proud of your own nation is just as ridiculous of being proud of your own skin color. Or gender. Or sexuality. How can one be proud of something they didn’t chose? Don’t you have something else to be proud of? Maybe of your own achievements or of your parents? Or of your friends? No? Just some arbitrary aspect that people shouldn’t care about? I say no to segregation!

 

But really, you may ask (if you survived thus far without plugging your ears and spasm about how I’m wrong.. without any sort of counter argument).. what is my real political alignment? What do I stand for?

Simple. When it comes to left and right, I see strengths on both sides (and also plenty of weaknesses). Sometimes, having left leaning ideals isn’t bad and they should be considered. Sometimes, being a little conservative isn’t wrong and becomes a need.  But, most of all, I don’t look too keen on authoritarians. And those can be found on both sides.

I cannot stand segregation. I do not care about your nationality, your religion, your skin color, your sexual orientation, your gender. I really.. do not care. I like individuals who can think for themselves and not in boxes. Individuals who are free, that have equal opportunities to reach far and wide. To punish those who step on someone else’s freedom and rights. Give the freedom to the people to believe whatever they want to believe, talk whatever they want to talk about.. but never allow personal believes to affect another individual’s freedom without consent.

 

Overall, I’m all about individualism. Against loud and angry authoritarian voices who believe they have the right to silence and subjugate individuals to their own will.

In short, if you feel like labeling me something, the closest thing you’ll probably get is a Classic Libertarian (though not 100% accurate, but the closest thing I’m familiar with). Do not dare to put me in a box together with self identifying Libertarians..

So, when I see liberties being breached, those ideals and morals that that I have very strong feelings about; I defend those who can bring hope, some balance to politics. Not because I agree with them, or support them. But to remove the crown and scepter away from those who are stepping on my toes (or are about to), on my individual freedoms. And right now, I believe the left side needs to have their crown and scepter taken away from them for some time. Not because I agree or support the right wing. But because the left has become the Authoritarians. My struggle is not against left or right.. but against up and down. And no, I don’t stand for Anarchists. Didn’t I tell you I don’t like extremes of anything? Balance is key!

 

I -really- hope that answered a few doubts.. though it most likely didn’t. We are dividing ourselves further and further to extremes. So I bet some people will read this and misinterpret everything I’ve said and just throw around a few unrealistic labels in hopes that they will stick.

I.. really hate politics. But the current political climate doesn’t leave me with much choice. Once I start feeling confident about my own voice and appearance, I’m thinking about creating a few videos about these topics. Not because I believe my opinions are important, not because I believe people will listen. Not because I’m prolific when it comes to politics. In fact, I believe that my opinions are just as good and valid as the child on the left. But I feel confident enough that I’ll be fine against the opinions of children like this one on the right.

Instead, I’ll do it because I feel morally obligated to do so, to make a stance for my own freedom and rights.

 

There’s also another plan, to eventually migrate away from the European Union. But that one’s more complicated and needs to be well thought out. There’s a very high chance that’ll never happen. But it would be awesome~

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Hi! I’m a [Label]

 

(Obligatory comment about the featured image)

 

Good afternoon!

 

It’s been a while since I wrote something more.. existential, abstract yet sententious. This is a topic that I’ve been personally invested for years since I decided to look outside the little cult indoctrination box that I’ve, since then, abandoned completely.

 

Labels. Personally, I loathe them. Such a convenient social trap that we all fall into, with no exception, without even noticing. With labels, comes the human desire to form our own tribes, our own bubbles. And within the bubbles, a cult mentality is developed. And when there’s a cult mentality, it is acceptable to demonize those outside of it. To invite others into the tribe, into the cult. The cult of a [label], where you have abandoned your individuality, your potential. Molded to fit the criteria and the ideology of the tribe, which then leads to the development of stereotypes to those from the outside. Our happiness exists as long the other members agree that you belong in this tribe. Singing in one voice, such a beautiful shallow melody!

And all of this.. because being part of a cult of a [label] makes you feel safe from your own fragile unfulfilled ego that has never bloomed because society pressured you into tiny little boxes. Boxes are easier to organize, to label, to talk in praise or distastefully.

Or perhaps a label makes you feel unique, special. It gives you the love you need from those who look up to the label you carry. Either with amazement or as an oppressed individual that needs to be heard. The virtual signaling, the voices that perceive you as a complex human being with enough experience to raise the voice with authority against those from other tribes and labels. Clearly, an individual with a good moral compass and intentions that could do no wrong. Proudly informing about the [label]. They are the [label]. Without it, they are nothing, lost, boring. No one likes an average.

But enough about the abstract thinking. This has always been a problem with society, with humanity.

 

It’s.. so easy to fall. I’m no exception, and neither are you. Even if we vainly, yet graciously, remind our acquaintances of how we avoid labeling ourselves and others and, instead, treat everyone and oneself as an unique individual.. we still decide to label ourselves over things that are nonessential and, when our individual egos are under pressure, we are quick to dismiss others and label them. Because it’s easy to label.

The reasons as to why we resort to labels depends from person to person. Either to protect our own egos, to attack or because of our biases. Plus, it’s easier to communicate! Instead of revealing your personality, likes and dislikes, little by little and within the boundaries of your own vocabulary.. how about packing everything into a nifty worded label? Someone already did the job for you, to wrap part of your being into a word, in the dictionary.

 

But.. is it really worth it? Is it worth to carry the burden of calling yourself a [label]? Of introducing yourself by the use of a [label] or two? Can you handle the pressure of those who have gained a bias or dislike over your labels? Will you crumble and decide to fight back by talking down to those of the opposing tribes by insulting them with more labels? Will you ever reach your true potential as an individual?

Will you.. truly be happy? Or will you destroy the child within you as you walk the path?

 

If you ask an average person about what is the key to achieve true happiness, they’ll answer with a cliche that almost everyone knows it deep down. That, most of all, be yourself. Do the things you truly enjoy, be with those who know you for what you are and not for something you are not.

No one knows who you are except yourself. It’s a life journey that requires you to reflect on your own emotions, your own subconscious and thoughts. The way the world reacts to your presence, to your words, to your gestures and actions. To release the chains that society will try to impose on you in order to mold you into an ideal. To join the tribe, the nation, the religion, the cult, the tribe, the family.

Society will try to label you. As a child, you will swallow those labels and you will accept them, accept what society wants of you. Will society choke you, with all the chains they’ll wrap you up with? Like a riddle, will you find yourself beneath the darkness? And if you do indeed break some of those chains, will you learn nothing from the experience and repeat history against yourself and others?

 

It is more than obvious that we are social creatures and we live in society. We cannot excuse ourselves from society in general, from other people. We will repeat the same mistakes over and over and it will always be a never ending struggle.

However, there are plenty of ways to avoid most of those issues and mistakes. We cannot expect society to change according to our own flawed ideals. People will use labels, people will form tribes, people will eventually form cults. People will love and people will hate.

 

Obviously, being aware that humans have that quirk that they cannot avoid is a good way to be self conscious when we do it. We can become aware when others do it and, as such, avoid unnecessary pain and repression. After all, we don’t want to regress to a state of blind devotion to a cult like mentality, do we? Knowing when we are being dismissive to an opposing view given to preconceived biases and, thus, feeling no guilt over labeling someone as something hurtful; allow us to stop, reconsider our stance and make the necessary adjustments to avoid any form of bigotry and offence.

 

Examining ourselves will also allow us to reach our true selves. No one knows you better than you. And you want people to know you for what you truly are. There’s no better felling than being loved for what you actually are and not for what you aren’t. This is basic and common knowledge yet, regardless, we hold ourselves back all the time. This is not wrong by itself depending on the circumstances and the people around us but the goal should always be to not lose focus of your own self and not fall for the pressure of those who speak louder and with authority.

 

Of course, again, it’s important to note that we do live alongside other people. Basic etiquette should never be dismissed. We cannot expect the whole society to bow down to our own individual thoughts that may, or not, be controversial for the majority. Instead of being arrogant about our self perceived superior ideologies that we believe to have, it is perhaps more beneficial for ourselves and for society if we respect the opposing view. Or, if the topic really matters and both sides want to remain civil, have an honest yet polite discussion. Never demonizing, but acknowledging the differences and allow the other side to move on, an agree to disagree.

 

Avoiding to use labels to describe ourselves and others is also a good method to avoid conflict and further divisions. We will never know how a certain person feels about the [label]. When you use a label on yourself (specially if it represents a very small group of individuals), you are allowing others to create an image of you that may very well be incorrect. Or, also just as worse, you are allowing others to use you as an example for future encounters with anyone that shares the same label. And not everyone is able to look beyond the labels and the stereotypes, the bigotry that blinds them. When you label yourself and someone already has a few biases that affect their judgement, everything you say or do will be taken accordingly to their biases. Like a translator, their interpretation of your own words and actions may not be accurate to reality. Because they cannot look beyond the stereotypes and the biases. You’ve told the world that you are a [label]. The world will judge you has a [label], specially if you make your own public life and personality around the [label].

 

So it’s best to avoid the use of [labels], specially when you are introducing yourself to a person. With most people in society! Can you handle the pressure of being judged because of the label that you carry on your chest at all times? You lose your individually and you become “that one [label]”.

Labeling others is also not beneficial. It matters not how much they appear to act, present themselves or even the words they use seem alike to those of whatever [label]. When you label someone, you can no longer see them as the way they truly are. And people aren’t blind. If they feel they are being judged wrongly by you, they will avoid you. Or, worst case scenario, they will judge you back and just as harshly. Plus more divisions occur. Is that what you wish? To humiliate and to be humiliated in return? Not everyone will stay quiet when they are constant targets of wrong accusations over things they are not guilty of.

 


 

Anyway.. I’m quite sure that I’m rambling at this point over things that most people are already aware of. And quite an unorganized ramble this was!

 

Yet here we are. Walking back to previous times. Society is fracturing more and more. No one wants to listen to the other side. No one wants to respect the other side. Demonizing the other side is acceptable. Violence is becoming acceptable in some cases, over petty disagreements. Sensationalism, virtue signaling, bigotry on all sides (no exceptions). Labels being thrown around quite wrongly and names being tossed on the mud because someone said something that they shouldn’t or wasn’t understood. Over-sensitive, adults throwing tantrums, more division, more segregation. More labels, no debate, no arguments, no facts, no truth.

All of this.. because we want to be heard. We want to be loved. We want to be fulfilled. We want to save.. our own egos, to satisfy it, to feel safe. For others to tickle our ears with the things we want to hear and not the things that should be said. Because everything is offensive. Because everything is wrong. Because I’m a [label].. and you are a [label], thus less human.

 

The time to be honest, the time for civilized conversations and respectful debates.. is needed. But those times never existed on the full extent. There were no golden days of liberty and freedom of speech. But just different shades of ignorance, on every side of the spectrum.

The most important thing to remember is that no one believes that what they are doing.. is wrong. No one believes to be doing something bad. There are no bad people, just people who sometimes do bad things that they feel justified to and, ultimately, see it as good. And some of those bad things are written in history books and will be reminded by everyone.

As long as we know that, as long as we know that we are all humans who just want to be good people, honest to their true selves.. we will be able to respect them and to criticize their ideas without resorting to mockery, witch hunting or personal attacks. That has never worked in the long run..

 

But why? Why is there a need to explain the obvious? I believe everyone knows all of these things that I wrote within their own hearts. It’s common sense, there’s nothing new in what I’m saying. But again.. here we are. We are.. so dumb. Going back, instead of going forward. Times are changing again.

But hey, we have labels to make things easier for us! Just pick a [label], join a tribe (and, therefore, a cult), slap others with [labels] (virtue signaling) and everyone on your tribe will love you because you totally showed them! Oh you.. prolific snob you!

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Dear Jehovah Witnesses…

 

(Para quem não sabe ler Inglês, a versão em Português encontra-se no final.)

 

ENGLISH

 

Dear brothers and sisters in faith,

I am writing this open letter to you, filled with emotion, to express my deepest appreciation for everything that Watchtower has provided us. But, what the fuck? Are you serious? Are you kidding me? Are you completely barking mad? Oh sorry, pardon my French… I got a little carried away! Let’s pretend that never happened. It’s easy to simply forget mistakes, you’re professionals at that. Anyway, back to the subject to which I’m writing this lovely letter…

It has come to my attention, from a source that asked another source and that this source informed me that, after I’m done with my transition and when my legal documents are changed in order to reflect the name I’ve chosen for myself and the appropriate gender. If I still hold love for Jehovah and his organization, I could literally start from zero, since my old publisher card carries the old name and biological sex. Get a study, probably getting baptized for the second time in my life.. all sunshine and rainbows, praise Jehovah!

Tempting..

But let’s analise my experience with the Jehovah Witnesses. Allow me to meditate out loud about my nostalgic moments with the Jehovah Witnesses, exposing a little of my background. This could very well be one of the most macabre examples of that one parable, the Prodigal Son. Except, you know, the son is now a daughter. Awkward, I know.

 

I was born within a household/family that are Jehovah Witnesses. When I was born in 1990, my father was already an Elder for nearly 10 years. And may I add that he was part of that one initial generation of Portuguese Jehovah Witnesses, being preached at the age of 11, together with my grandparents when there were no more than nearly 2000 of them in the country back when there was a dictatorship (Salazar, Estado Novo)? There are around 48.000 at the moment. Anyway, this is only to give everyone the idea of the comfortable, established and somehow privileged position my family and I were positioned within the local area’s pecking order. I’ve met very important Jehovah Witnesses within the area we live in. Ate with them on the same table. Talked, laughed, shared words of wisdom, learned.. and so on.

Basically, for those who aren’t Jehovah Witnesses, I was the preacher’s child. Me and my brother, for that matter. But, though he was older, I was the one that advanced in the pecking order first. I “decided” to baptize at the age of 10, being baptized at the age of 11. Why did I used the quotation marks, you may ask? Because, according to what I was taught, baptizing is the most important decision in one’s life. More important than getting married! And last time I’ve checked, people can only get legally married at a much latter age than 11. Yet, the most important decision in my life was made at 10.. and you thought it was a good idea to baptize a child. Good job, though I know I’m not the youngest case. I was the youngest case, however, in this region during my time.

 

My experience with the Jehovah Witnesses has been mixed. On one hand, you have a good number of the people pretending to like you just to score points with my father. On the other hand, you also have the majority of the people around my age thinking that Prince of Persia is Satanic.. but Sex in the City is a good choice for a christian to watch at the local theater (I love to tell this story to people) and trying to ostracize you because you are considered a threat to their own silly goals within the congregation of their choice; though I can’t really blame those since this is pretty much what happens among elders too and we should always follow the example of those who lead! (Oh, I know. I’m not blind. And it’s not some conspiracy or just someone gossiping these things to my ear along the years. I just know. Call it intuition and a nag at reading people’s personality and shady intentions like an open book. Some elders just like to play Game of Thrones).

And then you have those that are genuine when they say they want to serve Jehovah. That genuinely like you. Too bad they never had the chance to know me for who I really am. Now they would had the chance to do so.. but hey, I’m disfellowshipped and they aren’t allowed to talk to me. I really wish I could just blame it all on them and say that they weren’t friends to begin with. But I know they live in fear, fear for what the elders would do to them if they knew that these people, that were once my friends, were talking to me somehow! It’s okay, I’m aware that some of them, to this very day, still care for me. I am saddened that they will never be able to finally get to know me. That all they knew was an incomplete human being, that lacked a fulfilling personality. Even more, I know that some of them actually do support my transition and are hopeful that you, someday, accept people like me into the organization. Because they actually did their research on the issue. But they fear. They fear you. They do not fear Jehovah. Trust me. They just think that there’s a very good reason why you are far behind the current discoveries. They have that hope, I do not.

 

Let’s also evaluate the way that you have dealt with my little predicament here.

So, first, I talk to a special pioneer that I once knew, that has done a few jobs within Portugal’s Betel. He didn’t know the answer to my predicament and told me to “send a letter to Brooklyn” (as in, what was at the time, Watchtower’s/Jehovah Witnesses Headquarters), since I know how to express myself in English. I did, a 7-8 page long letter explaining what I felt, my emotions and what I thought to be the best solution, transitioning. This was way back in 2011. After a month, I get an answer from Brooklyn and share it with the local elders/circuit overseer. I was disappointed with their answer, because it made no sense. The answer wasn’t satisfying, it didn’t solved anything. Though kind words were written on the paper, the justification as to why I was wrong was.. lacking.

So I did my own thing, started carving my own path in order to start my own transition. But I also really wanted to stay within the Jehovah Witnesses, so I said a few silly things to the doctors and that.. made the process difficult. I was naive, I wanted both worlds because I thought, and still firmly believe, that I’m right in what I’m doing. Even more so now, that I’ve started my treatment and feel much better. With room for improvement, obviously. But I already had a taste of what awaits me.. and it’s exactly what I wanted. I am happier, with a more fulfilling personality. I am turning to the girl I knew I always was but couldn’t rightfully bring it forward. Because I was lacking “ingredients”. I am now being given those, little by little. Again, I’m sad that you won’t be able to witness these changes first hand.

Eventually, after 2 years of not going to the meetings and doing my own thing, without any elder bugging me about my inactivity.. I did a mistake. I went to a meeting after so long, and that’s when people started to remember that I existed. And even more, how different I looked! Oh no, the people were shocked.. it’s like the queen of England just passed out, with a tea cup on her hand and falling on the floor, just because she saw someone with tight pants. In short, a bunch of elitist snobs, instead of being glad that I was there in a meeting after soo long, decided to whisper their favorite elders about how odd I looked. It took a week or two for them to come knocking on my door to invite me nicely to the kingdom hall, for a “little chat”. Of course, I was no fool and I knew what it meant. It was a judicial committee.

It was the first judicial committee, I was terrified! I wasn’t ready to be disfellowshipped, even though I knew I was right. So I felt for your demands and wore what you wanted, cut my hair the way you like it. All in two days, just like you asked of me. It was.. traumatizing. And when I went to the meeting, just like you demanded, I was empty. And more, the fake smiles given by some of the local Jehovah Witnesses. Has they greeted me, just to look good on the picture. To get a promotion or for their peers to look at them as examples. Nothing new there, I saw much of that during my childhood and adolescence. Not every Jehovah Witness gets the privilege I once had to go to the Assemblies and District Congresses and have a few random people come to you when your parents are near, with wide smiles and exaggerated gestures, greeting you as if you know them. And having them ask you if you still know them, because, apparently, they greeted you once 5-10 years ago and that means they are somehow relevant enough to be remembered. And that is if they don’t remind you that they once changed your diapers and that, as such, you should totally recognize their name and face! Or greet you and tell you that they are your father’s friend. Empty and void greetings… I know I sound spoiled and ungrateful. But when most people you greeted as a Jehovah Witnesses only smiled and greeted you because of your father, you know that you are nothing more than a dog that people pet just to look like a friendly person towards the owner. They don’t give a shit about the dog, they want the owner’s attention and approval. Some Jehovah Witnesses were like that and I have no sympathy for them.

And let’s not talk about your attempts at masculating me, as a means to “solve” my issue. Yes, let us not talk, for your own sake. It’s embarrassing, it was painful and so many times I had to hold back my words, like a feline holding back the claws that were ready to shred and roast on your ignorance.

But let’s pause for a moment and appreciate the biggest crime you committed here? The thing that really annoyed me? Because the rest I can forgive just by the fact that you are so blind by your own ignorance. But what I can’t forgive is the fact that you took that opportunity, after my commission and, after a week, you decided to strip away my father’s privilege of being an Elder! Don’t play dumb, I know how elders work. It’s Game of Thrones in most congregations and you took advantage of me just to remove my father’s nearly 40 years of work. Yes, because my actions, as an adult, mean that my father has to pay for my crimes. That or you thought that my condition is my father’s fault. Either way, whatever the reason, those are all disgusting and terrible reasons! And once I decided again to do whatever I wanted and ignore your laughable attempts to “aid me”, I brought this up several times. And all the times, you always answered my concerns and outrage with arrogance and out right dismissing my points. Or blaming the “other elders”. Or also getting mad or trying to manipulate the situation to make it seem like I was bringing that issue as if that was a reason why I was rebelling against your will.

No, allow me to explain. That’s not the reason. The reason is simple. I was tired of your shit. I was tired of fake people. I was tired of your political games between elders. I was tired of your ignorance. I was tired of the people that were constantly ostracizing me and my family. Of the gossips. Not every Jehovah Witness is a terrible person.. but some of you are. And some of those lead. And what makes you think that there aren’t people even higher on the pecking order that are just as vile? There probably are, it’s not difficult to imagine. As someone that was born within the organization, for the things I saw.. I am confident when I say that there are people like that in most congregations, Betel’s and even the Watchtower’s HQ.

 

I stopped fearing you. If there’s a god, clearly you don’t speak on his behalf. In fact, I go as far and saying that there’s no human that can talk on behalf of god. So, thank you, Jehovah Witnesses. You are right. Religions are awful. What makes you think you are that different from the others? You pride yourselves in being an organization that seeks the truth at all costs, no matter how unpleasant. Well, I gave you chances to learn more about my predicament, the truth. You tossed the truth aside, as one of the elders said on the second and last judicial committee (15th March 2016), the one I got disfellowshipped: “We don’t care about what science has to say.” Next time you print a magazine that exposes a scientific discovery that somehow fits with your narrative, about butterflies and amazing scenery.. please do remember that you don’t care about what science has to say. So don’t go around saying that some scientists are on your side and then claim that science is bad when it’s convenient.

But thank you Jehovah Witnesses. You taught me a few good things too, so let’s not deny ourselves. There were also a few good Jehovah Witnesses, people that were actually friendly and cared. You taught me to seek the truth, no matter how unpleasant. I still carry that in mind, in everything I do in life. That’s why I followed the path that I saw to be the right one. And the results only confirm that I was right.

You disfellowshipped me, which means that Jehovah Witnesses can’t talk to me, form any sort of social connection (unless business related). I lost connection to all the Jehovah Witnesses but my own family. I am still surprised (but grateful) that I’m allowed to still be able to talk to my family. I have a few theories has to why.. but I don’t care, I just accept and appreciate it as much as I can. The economy sucks and I wouldn’t be able to live on my own with the kind of money I earn. If I had the money, I would find another place to live, trust me. But though I did listed a good number of flaws, I know that you are not cold enough to throw me off the streets with nothing. And I know my place, I respect my parents and keep my thoughts to myself about the organization and my new religious perspective (or lack of). I do believe my parents are in the right organization. They are near their 65’s, they deserve to have a calmer and simpler life from now on. I will always love them and I will always respect their religious believes. Your religious believes.

 

And after all this, after my experience as a Jehovah Witness (and I did touched it quite lightly. I could go into more detail but this passionate letter is already quite long and I still have to translate it), I quote:

It has come to my attention, from a source that asked another source and that this source informed me that, after I’m done with my transition and when my legal documents are changed in order to reflect the name I’ve chosen for myself and the appropriate gender. If I still hold love for Jehovah and his organization, I could literally start from zero, since my old publisher card carries the old name and biological sex. Get a study, probably getting baptized for the second time in my life.. all sunshine and rainbows, praise Jehovah!

.. Right. Tempting but I will have to say that, for now, it is a big no. But it’s okay, I may go to a meeting or two someday. For nostalgia’s sake. As in, to see a few familiar faces from afar.. since I can’t talk to them. And they can’t talk to me either. But at least they’ll know that I’m now happier~

And to those that faint, like the judgmental snobs they are, because of my new appearance.. I’m not there for those so I don’t really care that much if they do faint.

 

But let’s imagine that I accept this.. proposal.

You know, when most of you decided to ignore my very same existence, do you know who was here for me? Not the Jehovah Witnesses.. but the “Worldly People”. Yes, those people you always tell to not befriend with because they will turn you away from Jehovah. The smokers, those from other faiths, LGBT people, those that think differently but love you just the same, etc…

So, when you abandoned me, when I needed you the most, you are telling me that I could join you and start all over.. and then hear from you that all these people that were there for me.. that they are bad people and I need to slowly break my connections with them? OR WAIT, even better, start preaching to them about.. .. .. the truth?

… Yes, I’m laughing. It’s a ridiculous proposal. Call me when you start respecting other people’s opinions and stop micromanaging people’s lives. You just look silly. Considering my own experience with most of the Jehovah Witnesses I’ve met.

 

And, as such, I conclude this public letter with plenty of hugs and kisses.. to those Jehovah Witnesses that actually care. I am fine, don’t worry. Quite fine in fact! I hope you are fine too,

SapphyDe90

 

P.S. Don’t worry! My friend’s list is private. If you fear that people will find out, don’t. From me, they’ll never find out. Unless they are a mutual friend. But, if we go down that path, the other person would only know if they are also part of my friends’ list. So they can’t tell anything unless they want to be told that they are also part of this friends’ list 😉

 

 

 

PORTUGUÊS

 

Queridos irmãos e irmãs espirituais,

Eu estou a escrever esta carta pública para vocês, cheia de emoção, para expressar a minha profunda gratidão por tudo o que a Watchtower tem providenciado para nós. Mas, que raio? Estão a gozar comigo? Estão doidos? Oh desculpem, peço perdão pela minha linguagem ultrajante… estou um pouco sensível! Vamos fingir que eu não escrevi aquilo. É fácil de esquecer as falhas, vocês são profissionais nisso. De qualquer modo, de volta ao tópico pelo qual é a razão de eu estar a escrever esta carta amorosa…

Chegou à minha atenção, através de uma fonte que perguntou a uma outra fonte e que essa fonte tinha informado que eu, depois de completar a minha transição e quando os meus documentos legais reflectirem o nome pelo qual escolhi para mim própria e o género apropriado. Se eu ainda tiver amor por Jeová e a sua organização, eu poderia literalmente começar do zero, visto que o meu antigo cartão de publicadora contém o nome antigo e sexo biológico. Começar um estudo, ser baptizada pela segunda vez na minha vida.. tudo um mar de rosas e arco-iris, louva a Deus!

Hmmm, tentador..

Mas vamos analisar a minha experiência com as Testemunhas de Jeová. Permitem-me que medite em voz alta a nostalgia que eu sinto com respeito aos momentos que tive com as Testemunhas de Jeová, expondo um pouco do meu passado. Isto até poderia ser um exemplo bastante macabro tal e qual como aquela parábola, a do Filho Pródigo. Excepto, claro, o filho agora é uma filha. Esquisito, eu sei.

 

Eu nasci dentro de um lar/família que é Testemunha de Jeová. Quando eu nasci em 1990, o meu pai já era Ancião já quase por 10 anos. E esta é a parte que digo que ele fez parte daquele grupo pequeno inicial de Testemunhas de Jeová em Portugal, tendo aceitado as Testemunhas de Jeová aos 11 anos de idade juntamente com os meus avós, quando não existiam mais de 2000 Testemunhas de Jeová no país no tempo da ditadura (Salazar, Estado Novo). Existem cerca de 48.000 neste momento. De qualquer forma, isto apenas serve para dar a idea às pessoas de que eu e a minha família beneficiava-mos de uma posição confortável, estabelecida e privilegiada dentro da hierarquia local. Tive o prazer que conhecer algumas Testemunhas de Jeová importantes na região que vivo. De comer na mesma mesa que eles. Falar, rir, partilhar palavras inspiradoras, aprender.. etc.

Basicamente, para aqueles que não são Testemunhas de Jeová, eu era a “filha do pastor”. Eu e o meu irmão. Mas, apesar de ele ser mais velho, eu fui a que dei progressos primeiro. Eu “decidi” baptizar-me aos 10 anos de idade, concretizando tal aos 11. E agora perguntam do porquê de colocar aspas. Porque, de acordo com o que aprendi, o baptismo é o passo mais importante na vida de uma pessoa. Mais importante do que casar-se! E a última vez que verifiquei a lei, as pessoas casam-se mais tarde do que com 11 anos de idade (pelo menos de forma legal). No entanto, a decisão mais importante da minha vida foi feita aos 10… e vocês pensaram que seria uma excelente idea baptizar uma criança. E eu não sou a pessoa mais jovem que o fez. Mas eu fui o caso mais jovem na minha região durante o meu tempo.

 

A minha experiência com as Testemunhas de Jeová tem sido mista. Por um lado, existem um bom número de pessoas que fingem gostar de ti só para parecerem bem para o meu pai. Por outro lado, tens jovens da minha geração a debaterem que o Príncipe da Pérsia é satânico.. mas que O Sexo e a Cidade é uma boa escolha para um cristão ver no cinema (Eu adoro contar esta história para as pessoas) e tentarem por-me de parte e a espalhar rumores só porque consideraram-me uma ameaça para os seus alvos espirituais dentro da congregação de escolha; apesar de não poder lhes culpar muito porque isto é o que acontece dentro de muitas congregações entre os anciãos também e nós devemos seguir o exemplo daqueles que estão acima! (Oh, eu sei. Não sou cega. E isto não é apenas uma conspiração ou alguém a espalhar rumores deste estilo para os meus ouvidos ao longo dos anos. Eu simplesmente sei. Chama-lhe de intuição e uma afinidade para enxergar personalidades e intenções obscuras das pessoas como se fossem um livro aberto. Alguns anciãos simplesmente gostam de brincar à Guerra dos Tronos).

E depois tens aqueles que são genuínos quando dizem que querem servir a Jeová. Que genuinamente gostam de ti. Infelizmente eles nunca terão prazer de me conhecer por aquilo que realmente sou. Agora poderia ter oportunidade de tal.. mas pronto, estou desassociada e eles não podem falar comigo. Eu gostaria imenso de poder culpar tudo neles e afirmar que eles nunca foram meus amigos de verdade. Mas eu sei que eles vivem com medo, medo do que os anciãos fariam se soubessem que alguém, dentro dessas amizades, poderiam estar a falar comigo! Não há problema, eu sei que alguns deles, até ao dia de hoje, ainda se preocupam comigo. Fico triste que eles nunca poderão me conhecer de verdade. Que tudo o que conheciam de mim era apenas uma pessoa incompleta, sem personalidade. Ainda mais, eu sei que alguns deles até estão de acordo com a minha transição e tem esperança de que vocês, algum dia, aceitem pessoas como eu na organização. Porque eles fizeram a sua pesquisa. Mas eles tem medo. Tem medo de vocês. Eles não tem medo de Deus. Acreditem em mim. Eles apenas pensam que existe uma boa razão pelo qual estão muito atrás no que diz respeito às descobertas mais recentes. Eles tem essa esperança, eu não.

 

Vamos também avaliar a forma como vocês lidaram com a minha situação.

Primeiro, eu falei com um pioneiro especial que antes conhecia, que já fez alguns trabalhos no Betel em Portugal. Ele não tinha resposta e aconselhou-me a “enviar uma carta para Brooklyn” (o que era, na altura, a sede das Testemunhas de Jeová/Watchtower), visto que sabia expressar-me em Inglês. Eu escrevi, 7-8 páginas a descrever o que sentia, as minhas emoções e o que seria a melhor solução para o meu problema, a transição. Isto foi em 2011. Depois de um mês, eu recebi a resposta deles e partilhei-a com os anciãos locais e o surpreendente de circuito na altura. Fiquei decepcionada com a resposta deles, porque não fazia sentido. A resposta não era satisfatória, não resolvia nada. Apesar das palavras amorosas, a justificação do porquê estar errada era.. fraca.

Por isso fiz aquilo que quis, comecei a andar no meu próprio caminho para começar a minha própria transição. Mas eu também queria imenso continuar a ser Testemunha de Jeová, por isso disse coisas aos médicos que me arrependo.. pelo qual fez com que o processo complicasse um pouco (neste caso, o diagnóstico). Eu fui ingénua, eu queria ambos os mundos porque pensei, e continuo a pensar firmemente, que estou certa naquilo que estou a fazer. Ainda mais agora, que já comecei o tratamento e já sinto alguns dos efeitos positivos. Claro, ainda mais tem que acontecer. Mas já senti o suficiente para saber que foi uma excelente decisão! Estou mais feliz, com uma personalidade mais completa. Estou a tornar-me na rapariga que sempre soube que era mas que nunca conseguia demonstrar. Porque faltavam “ingredientes”. Agora os ingredientes estão a ser fornecidos, aos poucos. De novo, fico triste de que não vão poder presenciar estas mudanças ao vivo.

Após 2 anos de não ir às reuniões e de fazer as coisas à minha maneira, sem nenhum ancião a chatear-me com respeito à minha inactividade.. eu cometi um erro. Eu fui a uma reunião após tanto tempo, e isso fez com que as pessoas começassem a lembrar que eu existia. E ainda mais, o quão diferente eu estava! Oh não, as pessoas estavam chocadas.. pareciam a rainha de Inglaterra com uma chávena de chá na mão e a falecer, caindo no chão, só porque a rainha viu alguém com calças mais apertadas. Em poucas palavras, um grupo de elitistas pretensiosos, em vez de ficarem contentes pelo facto de estar lá após tanto tempo, decidiram cochichar com os seus anciãos favoritos com respeito à minha aparência “estranha”. Demorou apenas uma semana ou duas para eles virem bater à minha porta para me convidarem cordialmente para o salão do reino, para uma “conversa”. Claro, não sou parva e eu sabia muito bem o que aquilo significava. Era um comitê judicial.

Foi a primeira vez que estava a ser julgada daquela forma, tive muito medo! Não estava pronta para ser desassociada, apesar de saber que tinha razão. Por isso cedi às exigências e vesti o que queriam que eu vestisse, cortei o cabelo da maneira que vocês gostam. Tudo num espaço de dois dias, tal e qual como pediram. Foi.. traumatizante. E depois quando fui para a reunião, como tinham exigido, senti vazia. E ainda mais, os sorrisos falsos que algumas Testemunhas de Jeová deram. Quando me cumprimentavam, só para parecer bem para a foto. Para receberem uma promoção ou aprovação das outras Testemunhas de Jeová. Isso não é novidade, eu vi muito disso durante a minha infância e adolescência. Não são todas as Testemunhas de Jeová que tem o privilégio que eu tive de ir a Assembleias e Congressos de Distrito e ter pessoas estranhas a vir ter contigo quando os pais estão por perto, com aqueles sorrisos largos e gestos exagerados, cumprimentarem-te como se conhecem de algum lado. E depois terem eles a perguntarem-te se ainda os conheces, porque, aparentemente, tu fizeste o mesmo com aquela pessoa à uns 5-10 anos atrás e isso significa que são pessoas assim tão relevantes para serem relembradas. E é se não disserem que mudaram as tuas fraldas e que, como tal, devias totalmente reconhecer o nome e a cara delas! Ou cumprimentam e dizem que são amigos do teu pai. Comprimentos fúteis e vazios… Eu sei, pareço uma mimada ingrata. Mas quando tens pessoas a cumprimentarem-te como Testemunhas de Jeová, apenas a sorrirem e a cumprimentarem-te por causa do teu pai, tu sabes que não és nada mais de que um animal de estimação pronta para receber festinhas só para parecerem pessoas simpáticas à frente do dono. Eles não querem saber do animal, eles querem é a atenção e aprovação do dono. Algumas Testemunhas de Jeová eram assim e eu não sinto nada por elas.

E vamos nem tentar falar das tentativas que fizeram para masculinizar-me, como “solução” para os meus problemas. Sim, não vamos falar disso, só para não esconderem as vossas cabeças na areia com vergonha. Sim, vergonhoso, doloroso e tantas vezes que tive que aguentar as minhas palavras, como felina a conter as minhas garras que estavam prontas para desfazer ou escarnecer a vossa ignorância.

Mas vamos fazer uma pequena pausa por um momento e apreciar o maior crime que cometeram, okay? Aquilo que realmente me chateou? Porque tudo o resto, eu até posso perdoar só pelo facto de estarem tão cegos com a vossa própria ignorância. Mas o que não posso perdoar é o facto de que aproveitaram-se desta situação e, após uma semana depois da minha comissão, vocês decidem retirar o privilégio do meu pai como Ancião! Não tentem fazer-se de parvinhos, eu sei como os anciãos são. É como a Guerra dos Tronos em algumas congregações e vocês aproveitaram-se desta minha situação só para remover o cargo que o meu pai teve e amava e pelo qual trabalhou por quase 40 anos. Sim, porque aquilo que faço, como pessoa adulta, significa que o meu pai tem de pagar pelos meus crimes. Isso ou porque culparam o meu pai pela minha condição. De qualquer modo, seja qual for a razão, foi um acto nojento e horrível! E quando decidi voltar a fazer aquilo que queria e ignorar as vossas ridículas tentativas de “ajuda”, eu levantei essa questão várias vezes. E todas as vezes, vocês responderam às minhas preocupações e ultraje.. com arrogância ou por simplesmente ignorarem aquilo que dizia. Ou por culparem “outros anciãos”. Ou por ficarem também zangados ou tentarem manipular a situação para fazer com que eu fosse aquela que estava a relembrar do assunto só para ter uma justificação para me rebelar contra vocês.

Não, permitem-me que explique. Essa não foi a razão. A razão é simples. Estava cansada da vossa merda. Estava cansada das pessoas falsas. Estava cansada dos vossos jogos politicos entre anciãos. Estava cansada da vossa ignorância. Estava cansada das tentativas das pessoas em tentar difamar a mim e à minha família. Dos cochichos. Nem todas as Testemunhas de Jeová são pessoas terríveis.. mas alguns de vocês são. E algumas dessas lideram. O que vos faz pensar que não existem pessoas com posições mais elevadas na hierarquia que são exactamente assim tão ruins? É muito provável que existam, não é difícil de imaginar. Visto que sou uma pessoa que nasceu dentro da organização, pelas coisas que vi.. estou confiante quando digo que existem pessoas desse género dentro de muitas congregações, Betel’s e até mesmo na sede.

 

Eu deixei de ter medo de vocês. Se existe um Deus, claramente vocês não são o porta voz dele. Aliás, eu até vou mais longe e digo que não existe humano nenhum que fale por Deus. Portanto, obrigada, Testemunhas de Jeová. Vocês tem razão quando dizem que as religiões são todas horríveis. Mas o que vos faz pensar que são assim tão diferentes das outras? O vosso orgulho em serem a organização que se preocupa com a verdade a todos os custos, não importa o quão desagradável. Bem, eu dei uma chance para aprenderem mais com respeito a situações como a minha, a verdade. Vocês não quiseram saber da verdade, como um dos anciãos disse no segundo e último comitê judicial (15 de Março de 2016), aquele pelo qual fui desassociada: “Nós não queremos saber do que a ciência diz.” Para a próxima vez que imprimirem uma revista que expõe o progresso cientifico que, por coincidência, vos é conveniente, acerca de borboletas e cenários lindos da natureza.. por favor lembrem-se de que vocês não querem saber do que a ciência diz. Portanto não estejam a dizer que os cientistas concordam com vocês e que é prova de que tem razão.. e depois, ao mesmo tempo, dizem que a ciência é má quando diz as coisas que não gostam.

Mas obrigada, Testemunhas de Jeová. Vocês ensinaram-me algumas coisas boas, portanto não vamos eludir-mos. Existiram algumas Testemunhas de Jeová boas, pessoas que foram simpáticas e que se preocuparam. Vocês ensinaram a amar a verdade, não importa o quão dolorosa seja. Eu ainda tenho isso em mente, em tudo aquilo que faço. Por isso é que segui o caminho que vi ser o correcto. E os resultados apenas confirmam ainda mais o quão certa estou.

Vocês desassociaram-me, o que significa que as Testemunhas de Jeová não podem falar comigo, formar qualquer ligação social (a não ser por razões de negócio. Que conveniente). Eu perdi a minha ligação com todas as Testemunhas de Jeová, excepto a minha família. Ainda estou surpreendida (mas grata) de que tenho permissão para falar com a minha família. Eu tenho algumas teorias da razão pelo qual isso seja possível.. mas não quero saber, eu simplesmente aceito a aprecio aquilo que tenho o máximo que posso. A economia está mal e eu não conseguiria viver por conta própria com base no meu salário actual. Se tivesse dinheiro, eu moraria noutro local, acreditem. Mas apesar de ter descrito um bom número de falhas da vossa parte, eu sei que vocês não são frios o suficiente para atirar-me fora de casa para viver na rua sem nada. E eu sei o meu lugar nesta situação, eu respeito os meus pais e mantenho os meus pensamentos para comigo própria acerca da organização e a minha nova perspectiva religiosa (ou falta dela, neste caso). Eu acredito que os meus pais estão na organização certa. Eles estão perto dos seus 65 anos, eles merecem ter uma vida mais calma e simples a partir daqui. Eu sempre irei amar os meus pais e eu sempre irei respeitar as crenças deles. As vossas crenças.

 

E depois disto tudo, depois da minha experiência como Testemunha de Jeová (e eu não detalhei tudo. Eu podia continuar a dar ainda mais detalhes mas esta carta cheia de ternura já está a ficar exaustiva e eu estou a traduzir isto tudo para Português. Sim, escrevi primeiro em Inglês), eu relembro:

Chegou à minha atenção, através de uma fonte que perguntou a uma outra fonte e que essa fonte tinha informado que eu, depois de completar a minha transição e quando os meus documentos legais reflectirem o nome pelo qual escolhi para mim própria e o género apropriado. Se eu ainda tiver amor por Jeová e a sua organização, eu poderia literalmente começar do zero, visto que o meu antigo cartão de publicadora contém o nome antigo e sexo biológico. Começar um estudo, ser baptizada pela segunda vez na minha vida.. tudo um mar de rosas e arco-iris, louva a Deus!

.. Uh-uh. Muito tentador mas, por enquanto, é um grande não. Mas não se preocupem, eu poderei ir a uma reunião ou duas algum dia destes. Para matar saudades. Ou seja, para ver umas caras familiares de longe.. visto que não posso falar com eles. E eles não podem falar comigo. Mas ao menos poderão ficar descansados ao ver que estou mais feliz~

E para aqueles que desmaiarem, visto serem elitistas preconceituosos, devido à minha nova aparência.. eu não estou lá para eles portanto tanto me faz se caírem ao chão com tanto escândalo.

 

Mas vamos imaginar que eu aceito esta.. proposta.

Sabem, quando vocês decidiram ignorar a minha própria existência, vocês sabem quem esteve lá para mim? Não foram as Testemunhas de Jeová.. mas as “Pessoas do Mundo”. Sim, essas pessoas pelo qual vocês estão sempre a dizer para não formar amizades porque eles vão nos desviar de Jeová. Os fumadores, aqueles com outra fé, as pessoas LGBT, aqueles que pensam de maneira diferente da vossa, etc…

Portanto, quando vocês me abandonaram, quando eu precisava mais de vocês, agora vocês estão a dizer que eu poderia voltar e começar tudo de novo.. e depois ouvir de vocês que todas as pessoas que estiveram comigo.. que elas são más pessoas e que eu preciso de quebrar a minha ligação com elas? OU MELHOR, começar a pregar a elas.. .. .. acerca da verdade?

 

… Sim, estou a rir. É ridículo essa proposta. Chamem-me quando começarem a respeitar a opinião das outras pessoas e quando pararem de micro manejar a vida das pessoas. Parecem um pouco tolos, digo eu. Considerando a minha experiência pessoal com muitas Testemunhas de Jeová que conheci.

 

E, assim, concluo esta carta pública com muitos abraços e beijinhos.. para aquelas Testemunhas de Jeová que realmente se preocupam. Eu estou bem, não se preocupem. Muito bem, para dizer a verdade! Eu espero que também estejam,

SapphyDe90

 

P.S. Não se preocupem. A minha lista de amigos está em privado. Se tem medo das pessoas descobrirem, não tenham. De mim, nunca irão descobrir. A não ser que seja amizade em comum. Mas isso, se vamos por aí, a outra pessoa só poderia saber se também estivesse na minha lista de amizades. Logo não poderão dizer nada sem que vocês digam que eles também estão na minha lista de amizades 😉

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Major Status Update (January 29th 2017)

 

(How basic can you get with a featured image?)

Good evening!

This is an improvised blog post, in order for those that visit my website, learn of the major news I have to share about the future of my content. Specifically, my drawings!

 

As you are aware, I drew almost nothing during this month. And the reason is quite simple..

I’m becoming a different person than I was. Emotionally, psychologically. My HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy), though it has been a month and a half, it has changed me on those aspects. And the way that I express my creativity is a little different now, and it is showing signs that it will continue changing for a while. As silly as it may sound, I can no longer replicate my art-style the way I used to. In fact, it has become much harder to do so. There has been little motivation to draw and, when I do so, the results have been bellow what I used to deem acceptable. They have been mediocre, terrible. Garbage. Embarrassing!

During a whole month, I was only able to produce this. There’s sooo much wrong in that drawing that I took a few hours to muster enough courage to click that “Submit” button on both my DeviantArt and Tumblr accounts, sharing on my Facebook and Twitter.

 

That’s correct. The HRT is affecting my creativity and the way that I express it. Which has lead me to decide and announce that I’ll be taking a big break from drawing in general. I have a drawing tablet. I’ve decided that, during this long break, I’ll be developing a new art-style that better suits my new form of creative expression and “dropping the mouse” once and for all. It will take a few months, I’ll be waiting to see what the Estrogen will also do when the time comes, instead of assuming that I’m only going to be affected emotionally and psychologically by the Antiandrogens I’m taking currently over the last month and a half.

If you want to stay updated, be sure to follow me on Twitter OR Facebook.
twitter.com/SapphyDe90
www.facebook.com/SapphyDe90/

In the meantime, I’ll stick to my political commentaries, blogging and gaming (I might start streaming stuff or make gaming related videos)
Thank you for reading and I apologize for the lack of art during this month and the few others to follow. I hope that my reasons I’ve provided have allowed you to understand why.

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