7/3/2021 0 Comments My Horrid Views From My PastI am not a good person. If I’m being honest, much of what I do (mostly on my podcast, which is be an advocate for trans liberation mostly, but also for other oppressed minority groups) is to try to make up for the horrible views I had in the past and advocated for. As you may know by now, I grew up in a fundamentalist church and family. We were super conservative in every way. Politics was everywhere around me as a kid, politics was important to my mom and grandparents on my mom’s side, who we saw quite often. I grew up watching Fox News, especially Bill O’Reilly, reading Christian conservative news magazines and evangelical talk radio such as “Cross Talk,” a right-wing extremist program that regularly pushed some of the most insane conspiracy theories ever and extremely racist looking back at it. I still remember it’s election night coverage and the things they said about black people. It genuinely was indistinguishable from rhetoric I hear from alt-right figures. This is what I grew up with. As I got older and got more access to the internet and became more interested in politics I started listening to Glenn Beck. I listened to the first hour live, then did school (I was homeschooled, so I could get away with it), and listened to the rest of the show via podcast. I don’t think I missed a single episode for several years. I was addicted to Glenn Beck. I can honestly say that no one influenced my political beliefs more than Glenn Beck from 2013-2019. Then, I started getting into some of the even more hardcore stuff. I got into Erick Erickson, Steve Deace, Michael Berry, and eventually, Alex Jones. I loved Alex Jones. I couldn’t wait for the day I made money to buy his stuff. That’s how lost I was. I genuinely took Alex Jones completely seriously (minus the Illuminati stuff, I never believed in the Illuminati). I only stopped listening to him when he started getting friendly with Trump because I was a Never Trump conservative (in 2016 I voted for Gary Johnson, the Libertarian Party candidate). I started reading websites such as The Daily Caller, Townhall, The American Thinker, Red State, Right Scoop, The Gateway Pundit, Brietbart, Liberty Treehouse, TheBlaze, InfoWars, and some other websites that I genuinely don’t remember the names of at this point. I also read a lot of TruNews, and watched Newsmax TV and OAN. I remember going to OAN’s website the day it launched I was so excited for it. So, yes, I was quite well acquainted with both networks before the rest of the world took notice of them last year. Oh, I also just remembered: I was a huge fan of Caiden Cowger and was a supporter of the Constitutional Freedom Party (a conservative party trying to keep the spirit of the Tea Party alive after seeing the rise of Trump and it’s founders and members being terrified of it). I grew up believing that government needed to be extremely small, but the military needed to be big. In fact, the military was practically worshiped. Being a soldier was the highest calling there was in my family, that and being a cop, and we worshiped cops almost as much as we did military members. I remember being taught that any black person who didn’t act white (though those words were never used) or dressed white or talked white were a bunch of thugs and welfare queens. Black people were often the cause of the nation’s problems I was taught, especially because the black fatherless myth was instilled in my brain from an early age. I was taught that Obama was a Muslim from Kenya. I genuinely believed that. Just about everyone around me believed it, and pushed it regularly, along with the notion that Obama was a communist. I also grew up a “pro-life” (let’s call it what it really is though, pro-forced birth) and quite an extremist at that. I believed, and so did everyone around me (and most people I know are still in this position) that abortion should be illegal under ALL circumstances. The woman got raped? Too bad, that fetus in her stomach is more important. It’s a high school girl who got pregnant? Well, shouldn’t have been sleeping around the boys. I mean, that’s why you’re supposed to wait ‘til marriage. She asked for it. Terrible, sure, but this is the consequence of sin. Is the mother going to die if the baby isn’t aborted? Well, then the mom must die. Nothing is nobler than a mother dying for her baby. No, I’m not exaggerating or joking about any of those stances. These are the beliefs I was raised with. I was told that these are the only reasonable positions on abortion. Otherwise, you were worshiping Moloch. I was raised believing in the war on Christmas. I was raised to believe that gay and trans people were subhuman scum who chose to be queer for attention and to usher in acceptance of pedophilia. Heck, the reason 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, Boston marathon bombings, school shootings, all happened because we lets gays out of the closet. Once I realized that I was trans, it terrified me. I believed I was a hell-bound monster. So, what did I decide to? Become even more hard-line against LGBT people in hopes if I became more hard-line against LGBT people, then maybe I would stop being trans. I remember posting on The Daily Caller that gay people should be stoned. It only got worse once my parents found out I’m trans and sent me to conversion therapy. I made myself genuinely hate the LGBT community with every fiber of my being. I became obsessed with LGBT people and bashing them. I was so desperate to not be trans, to convince myself that being trans was bad and I needed to just choose to not be trans. The first scale to fall from my eyes was immigration. My dad got involved with a local ministry that worked with refugees and immigrants. I was a hard-line anti-immigration person. Well, over time, hearing about how broken the immigration system was and meeting refugees I became a pro immigration person in about the span of a year. This was probably in about 2015, I’m guessing. Then the next scale to fall from my eyes was to realize that racism was still alive and well in America. I didn’t believe in systemic racism until the Black Lives Matter marches of last year, but I realized racism was still a thing in America and the drug war was inherently racist in about 2018. Listening to rappers such as Propaganda, Derek Minor and Lecrae helped me understand that. Then in 2019 I couldn’t pretend to myself that I wasn’t trans anymore. My gender dysphoria got too severe. I started coming out to people. So, because of that, I stopped trying to force myself to be anti-LGBT and started trying to find community. The first thing I did was start this blog. Then, I started a Tumblr blog and became a part of the transmedicalist community. Then I got onto Discord and joined several trans Christian Discord servers. Blaire White and Kalvin Garrah were the trans figures I listened to the most as a transmedicalist. Eventually, on Tumblr I started finding people who weren’t transmeds and on YouTube I discovered the channel “Jammidodger” and Sam Collins. Due to these influences on Tumblr and YouTube I started moving away from trans medicalism. This was the turning point to becoming a pro-LGBT activist. Around 2017 I went from being conservative to libertarian. Figures such as Austin Petersen and Jason Stapleton were instrumental to becoming a libertarian, that and the radio show Free Talk Live. Even as a libertarian I still remained a loyal Glenn Beck listener. Stopped listening regularly to him in late 2019 and stopped listening completely early 2020. Eventually I started reading Reason Magazine and watching their YouTube channel. Then I got into John Stossel. Then it was Tom Woods, Bob Murphy, Dave Smith, and Michael Malice. It was a fascinating ideology to get into. Libertarianism was exciting, it was basically conservatism, but more open-minded. It was pro-immigration, something I already was, which was good for me, because I was tired of being the lone conservative fighting for immigration on conservative forums. Libertarianism seemed a lot more logically consistent than conservatism. It seemed like the only true response to the looming threat of communism in America. I was genuinely convinced that we were diving straight into communism and would soon look just like Venezuela or the Soviet Union, and libertarianism was the best weapon against it. Over time, I got even more extreme in libertarian beliefs. I ended up a Minarchist, borderline full-on Anarcho-Capitalist. For a brief amount of time I flirted with Objectivism due to Yaron Brook and being influenced by books written by Ayn Rand such as “Socialism.” Most of the libertarian intellectuals I was influenced by were Ludwig von Mises and Tom Woods though. I still own my libertarian books by Rand, Mises and Rothbard. I don’t really remember much about my exact beliefs during this time to be honest, outside of the growing misogyny I was feeling. I was getting more and more desperate to not be trans, so I decided I needed to “man up.” So, I started looking around the internet to figure out how to be manly. I eventually stumbled onto the MGTOW community (MGTOW is short for “Men Going Their Own Way”). Basically, it’s a hate group. They hate women, because according to MGTOW, feminism has ruined everything and it’s in women’s basic nature to be gold-digging whores, to be liars and psycopaths. Women need to be put into their place, according to this ideology, by being treated as sub-human. According to MGTOW beliefs, women are nothing more than sex dolls for men, who exist merely to suck dick and make babies. They exist for no other purpose and are overall, pretty useless. In fact, it is beyond generous that men would even put up with such useless creatures. This is the hate group I fell into because it seemed to me to be the manliest there was because I was so desperate to not be a trans woman. In the end though, there were two talking points I could not accept which allowed me to get out of MGTOW, and those were: that mothers hate their children, and I genuinely cannot remember the other one. My favorite fringe belief of MGTOW: the trans people exist because of feminism. According to MGTOW, trans women exist because they have been taught by feminism to hate being men, and trans men exist to water down what it means to be a man. It’s basically TERF beliefs, just in reverse. In 2019 I got introduced to 5G conspiracies. My dad bought into them completely and made the whole family watch a bunch of videos talking about why 5G is dangerous. Eventually, I bought into it completely. Heck, I was even pushing the conspiracy that 5G caused COVID on Twitter early in 2020. Not joking. You can still find those tweets. I don’t think I ever deleted those tweets. I genuinely believed it. I’m extraordinarily embarrassed about it now, but it’s what I believed. So, what helped push me away from such fringe hateful beliefs for good? It was finding a YouTube channel called “Philosophy Tube” late in 2019. I grew up not knowing a single person on the left who talked about their beliefs. So, I just assumed that it was impossible to be intelligent and be on the left. Abigail Thorne completely destroyed those assumptions. I was amazed at how well-spoken and well-thought-out she was. An intelligent leftist. I had just found a unicorn. I binged her videos and subscribed to watch future ones. Her channel opened my eyes so much. Single-handedly she made me an enlightened centrist. Before I saw her channel, I was on the verge of going full-on Anarcho-Capitalist. Now, I was a centrist because of one leftist. Eventually, I found other YouTube channels such as Thought Slime, Vaush, Xanderhal, David Pakman, Secular Talk, Actual Jake, and Majority Report. They pushed me over the edge to put me firmly on the left (to be more specific, while I call myself a socialist, I push more for anarcho-communism, but communism is still such a dirty word I just call myself a socialist). After finding more channels such as The Serfs, Contrapoints, The Young Turks, The Damage Report and Ring of Fire. I started watching Twitch streamer Hasan Piker. I became aware of hate groups and beliefs, and how they were started and how to figure out what hate groups are. So, with more awareness of hateful beliefs, I genuinely hope my days of bouncing around to different hate groups is over, but now I’m left with nothing but shame and disgust for my days of having such hateful beliefs. It’s something that brings genuine shame to me. It’s something I would love to just hide and pretend I never had such beliefs. That said, I know I can never truly move on until I shine a bright light upon the things I once believed.
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6/29/2021 0 Comments Where is God?I just paused the song “Ancient and Brave” by John Mark McMillan. The first chorus just played and the words “where’s God at a time like this, where is God?” are ringing through my head. It’s in so many ways such a simple question, but it really is a profound one. One that so many have asked throughout the ages. One often asked in a desperate, depressed and/or sad state. It’s a question one asks when they feel abandoned. It’s one I have asked many times. It’s one that I often don’t have an answer to, because if I’m being honest, I’m not always convinced in the existence of God, or to be more specific, in the existence of Yahweh at the very least. I definitely believe in a spiritual realm. I have had too many spiritual experiences to not believe that there is something spiritual out there that we can’t physically interact with or see. But, where is Yahweh, the God whom I am supposed to serve? The one who supposedly created me? I remember asking that back right after conversion therapy ended. The first time I hit rock bottom. I hated life so much that I was literally praying to God to kill me. I had no hope for life even one bit. I just finished two years of hell. Two years of having no other option to hate myself for being trans and being forced to “man up.” I remember just asking God “where are you?” I felt that God abandoned me. I felt that it was because maybe because the therapy didn’t work, because I was such a horrible sinner that I remained trans. I prayed for death, waiting for it to come. That’s the first time I can think of asking that question. I probably asked it before then, but that’s as far back as my memory will allow at the moment. I remember having no hope. I remember thinking I was a failure. Everything was collapsing in my life, especially my mental and emotional state. My mental health after conversion therapy was so bad I genuinely paranoid. I remember being too scared to go to sleep because I was genuinely afraid that my family was waiting for me to do so in order to come in to rape and kill me. That’s how bad of a state I was in. I was paranoid, dehumanized, and felt completely alone and abandoned, especially by God.
Lately I have really been thinking a lot about the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. One of the most impactful moments for me in all of it is the moment when Jesus cries out from the cross: “Father, why have you abandoned me?” God the Father abandoned His own son, Jesus in His weakest moment. God straight up abandoned Jesus. Our own Savior knows how we feel. Heck, He understands it to a deeper level than I could understand. For me, this might be the most amazing moment in the whole crucifixion and resurrection story. The God who created me understands how I feel. The God I cry out to “where are you?” felt what I feel. Not saying it makes everything ok. It doesn’t, but it does help me feel slightly less alone. “Where is God” is a question I have been asking a lot of lately. I haven’t been feeling much hope for now or the future. In many ways right now feels very similar to when I first exited conversion therapy. I feel as if God has left me. I feel that I can do no right. I feel quite alone. I find death appealing. Ever since I was a child I wanted to die young. I knew even back then I could never live life as a man, so if I couldn’t be a woman, I would rather be dead. That was my thought process as a mere child. As I got older and my gender dysphoria only got worse, suicidal tendencies got added to the mix. Then I started to have to reckon with the fact that my parents were abusive and I couldn’t handle the abuse anymore. It became firmly embedded in my mind that a young death was desirable, preferably before age 25. Today, it still stands. My numerous physical problems (I got all the bad genes in the family), my severe trauma, and so many other things have only contributed to a strong desire I currently feel for death. To die in my sleep or something like that. Just pure hopelessness. Dreams that have been shattered. Having to have been my own parent growing up. Constant dehumanization. Lack of any prospects for a future life. So many things. Earlier I mentioned that it was nice knowing that God understands how I often have felt over the years. Now, I turn the table and realize that I understand, to a small degree the hopelessness He almost certainly felt at that point. The despair. The loneliness. In many ways it makes me love Him all the more. What other god can you share the same emotional experiences with like that? A god who has experienced despair like that? Help me to believe dear God. Help me to have hope again, like I did as a child. Hope that everything will be alright. Hope enough to not wish death upon myself all the time like I do. Be my provider. Jesus. Be there for me, especially when no one else is. Help me to trust and believe. 6/27/2021 0 Comments June 27th, 2021I have a mutual on Twitter named Shari Smith (Her Twitter: https://twitter.com/faithandcoffeee?s=09) and she has started this weekend to attempt take over a hashtag, #ModestIsHottest. The reason for this is a song and video (the video has since been taken down) by Matthew West who wrote a song titled "Modest is Hottest." Personally, I haven't been able to submit myself to that kind of torture that would be listening to that song. I listen to enough shitty Christian pop as it is (I'm still recovering from the crime against humanity that is MercyMe's newest album. It was so bad I haven't been able to bring myself to listen to any music at all in the last few weeks since listening). That said, I have seen and heard enough to get the gist of the song. It's toxic. Basically, it promotes the old misogynistic trope that women must cover up to protect boys from themselves. But, because Matthew West is a woke misogynist he frames it as covering yourself up completely and showing no skin is actually a lot hotter than, God forbid, showing a little cleavage or a shoulder. I can't even how much trouble it must be for some guy to keep it in his pants if he sees a female knee or upper leg. Will someone think of the poor boys? Obviously, I'm being extremely sarcastic at the moment. So, let me move beyond my trademark mockery and sarcasm and attempt to behave myself more than I do on my podcast and actually be serious (shameless plug, I know: https://anchor.fm/trans-ramblings). So, for a very brief background if you have no idea who the hell I am, I, Anna Hudak (pronounced "Who-Doc" not "Who-Dak" like most people pronounce it) am a trans woman. I was assigned male at birth and started transitioning to female 15 months ago. I grew up in a very fundamentalist church. The church I grew up in, girls and women wore long dresses and skirts every Sunday and boys and men wore, at the minimum, button-down shirts if not suits and ties (I hated ties with every fiber of my being so I never wore them unless I was forced to). Male modesty, of course, was never talked about. When it came to guys, the only things we were ever talked to about was how girls were a walking and talking sexual temptation for us and it was our duty to keep it in our pants until we married one right out of high school then we could fuck our brains out, and do it on demand because women are sub-servient to men. We also learned in indirect ways that rape happened because women dressed too inappropriately, so if a rape happened, it was a woman's fault. Because of all this, I remember when I was little, my sisters and mom always wore dresses or skirts while out in public. NEVER pants. It was considered scandalous and we would look down in judgement upon all the women wearing pants in public. I even remember when we would go swimming my sisters in addition to their bathing suits had to also wear shirts and skirts over the suit, to, you know, make sure they weren't tempting any boys. Meanwhile, as someone assigned male, I could go out merely in swimming shorts and no shirt, heck, I was expected to (which I rarely did before puberty and never did during puberty thanks to gender dysphoria, and therefore always covered up, heck, I tried to convince my parents to let me wear pants into the pool because of how dysphoric my legs made me). I remember being looked down upon for wearing a shirt while swimming, because apparently, I wasn't taking full advantage of all the privileges that being assigned male afforded me. I also remember looking up to the Duggar family. We were hooked to their TV show and idolized them for their "modesty." Our family saw them as role models. Not only for covering up but also requiring courting instead of dating in a romantic relationship (another toxic fundamentalist belief pushed on me, and one I admittedly, haven't deconstructed yet, mainly due to being aromatic and asexual). So, these are the things I remember growing up. The purity culture lessons I learned. As I got older things changed. My sisters and mom could wear pants in public. I learned that women weren't asking for rape if they went out showing some skin. Yet, purity culture prevailed. I continued to be taught that sex before marriage is one of the worst sins one could commit (the Bible isn't anti-fornication and I will die on that hill) and therefore my sisters were given purity rings. My dad called my youngest sister a slut for wearing shorts that went above her knee by about a centimeter. I watched these things as a gender dysphoric teenager going through male puberty and taking all these lessons in. I can only imagine how these lessons only made accepting myself as a woman only that much harder. Being taught that women were lesser than men and needed to cover themselves up to hide themselves from the "male gaze." So, now we're in the present. I'm transitioning and openly living as a woman, and now, all these years of purity culture is affecting me more than ever. I have been shopping for women's clothing and while I have finally mostly figured out what all the different types of clothing are and am figuring out my style, I find myself repulsed when I try something on that shows any skin, because of all the ingrained lessons. Last year, one of the very first outfits I bought was a long shirt and leggings. I thought I looked really cute in it, but, those leggings though. So immodest! Sure, they didn't show any skin and aren't completely form-fitting, but still! So immodest! No self-respecting women would ever go out wearing those! Well, I did buy them anyway, but have been terrified to wear that outfit in public. I did it once at a friend's request, but that was it. It was scary, and the thought of doing it again is scary. Doing so goes against every bit of programming I was programmed with. Then, there's a dress I bought for myself this year. It's a long dress that has no sleeves (sin #1) and is a v-neck (sin #2) that is low enough to show cleavage (sin #3), though in my case isn't an issue at all because quite simply, I don't have a cleavage at all (thanks to the HRT gods hating me and despite having taken stuff to grow breasts a year even before transition, they're still stupid small). I love the dress, but am terrified of actually wearing it in front of anybody because well, I have been informed quite simply that it's immodest. So, while I have not gotten over my purity culture programming, I'm on the road of doing so. I have started on my way, as scary and long as it is. Hopefully someday I can gain the courage to go out wearing a dress that makes me feel pretty that shows my non-existent cleavage. So, please, if you're so inclined, take a pic of yourself with an outfit showing some skin and post it with the hashtag #ModestIsHottest. Let's beat back purity culture in any way we can. Let's take over this hashtag from the fundies (and Matthew West) and get out this good message.
P.S. I was thinking about this post and re-reading it and realized I actually had a bit more to say. Purity culture is not only misogynistic but anti-queer fundamentally. Many an article and book has been written about how misogynistic purity culture is, putting the blame for men's inappropriate behavior on women, making women think lesser of themselves, and teaching men that women are nothing more than sex objects. But, it also works to work against gender variance. I genuinely believe that purity culture helped make it harder to accept myself as a woman, because, purity culture leads to one seeing women as lesser than (in addition to everything else in society). Then, once one transitions, they have all those lessons ingrained in their heads and even if you have deconstructed all those beliefs from a male point-of-view, you still never needed to do so from a female point-of-view. Now you are the one expected to live out purity culture and have to fight against it. Before, as a guy, I could learn that it was wrong and just move on with my life. Now, as a woman, someone this is pushed upon, I can't anymore. I have to unlearn these lessons from a more personal view. Before I saw it all from a macro view, now it's from a micro-view. These are the things no one prepares you for when you transition, and it's a major shock. Living as a trans woman has allowed me to experience purity culture as both a man and a woman, (aka, an observer and later as someone who it personally effects in a obvious way) and as someone who had previously gotten out of purity culture, or at least, thought I did, as a man, only to be thrown back in as a woman. I understand how harmful it is to both men and women, I have experienced it's harms for both. Almost makes me wonder if I will ever actually escape it to be honest. Anyway, back to my earlier point, it was another thing in my life teaching me that not only were women less than, but trans people are lesser than. So, if trans people are sub-human, and women are sub-human, then we are left with the notion that trans-women are the most sub-human of them all (which unfortunately, is a notion widely pushed with the narratives that trans women are predators and pedophiles. Heck, I know of Christians who actually argue that trans women are worse than pedophiles). It instills in a trans woman that not only is she bad for having such desires, but is degrading herself by living as a mere temptation. Remember, men are taught in purity culture, even sometimes explicitly that women are just walking and talking sexual temptations for men. So, by transitioning, as the logic would go, I would be reducing myself to a walking talking sexual temptation for "real" men (and even worse, because since I'm apparently "lying" about being a woman, I'm apparently trying to trick some poor man into having gay sex, which is even worse). So, anyway, I just wanted to point out just some of the ways purity culture affects trans women as gender queer voices on this discussion are pretty much unheard of. Maybe sometime I will come back after thinking about all of this more deeply, as this is something I decided upon to write about on the spur of the moment. One final note, I wonder how this affects trans men who grew up under purity culture. I can only guess, and I would love to hear from trans men who grew up under purity culture how they dealt with all these teachings. I really would love for more of a queer presence, a queer voice in these discussions as many of us have different perspectives and different interactions with purity culture due to just being queer. 6/19/2021 0 Comments June 19th, 2021So, one of the things I have struggled with the most since transitioning is having to cut off anti-trans friends. While I have never had many friends, there were two in particular who I was actually friends with for years. One of them was my best friend. A guy that I loved, and do love like a brother, which has made it all the harder to cut him out. To be honest though, I do over-state how little experience with friendships I have had mainly because of my former best friend and the pain of cutting him off, it just makes it easier to cope (that said, I still don't have much experience, but I do have more experience with having friends then I make it out to be, like, I did have friends, including a best friend). Anyway, he made his views on LGBT people, especially trans people, known a few years ago due to a negative experience with several other trans women. Over the next few years he became more and more bold in anti-LGBT rhetoric. So, when I went homeless and it got to the point that I had to go completely open as a woman, I had to make the painful decision of cutting him out of my life. To be honest, I never even told him. I never told him I was trans, and I didn't tell him I was cutting him out. I simply blocked him on everything. My phone, Facebook, Instagram, and maybe my gaming platforms as well (maybe). Anyway, the reason I did it that way was because I was already struggling with being homeless and my dysphoria was forcing me to be completely public with my transition. I had to have everyone call me Anna. I had to change my social media accounts to Anna. I knew he was going to reject me. He had made it clear his stance on LGBT people, especially trans women. I didn't have the emotional energy or strength at the time to deal with any of that. Cutting him off silenty was hard enough. I love him dearly. I hate how this all ended. While I am very much a woman, and am quite happy with being a woman and have no interest in being a man, I am not going to lie when I say that sometimes I wish I could have been a cis-guy just so that the friendship didn't have to end the way it did. That's the only reason I would ever want to be a guy. That said, 99.999% of the time I am quite happy as a woman and have no interest in being a guy. Seriously though, I regret how the friendship ended. I mean, it's not like we were talking that much by that point anyway. Can't even remember the last time I saw him. We barely talked, saw each other even less, but there was still a bond there. We still cared for each other. I still loved him as a brother. I miss him. Greatly. I miss playing "Call of Duty: Black Ops 2" multiplayer and zombie mode with him. I miss playing "Tron: Evolution Battle Grids" with him and all of his family and mine taking turns in futily trying to beat him in "Super Smash Bros Brawl." I miss playing football with him. I miss staying up all night talking with him. I miss reading comics with him. I miss our inside jokes, especially "can I have a bar," and "Nicklybear" (yes, my old branding that I used as a logo for everything on all my accounts is an inside joke). I still remember how both were created quite well. I remember being at a Bible Quiz Meet (Bible quizzing, in short, is where you study several chapters of a book or two of the Bible and compete to be first to get the chance to answer a question based off of what you studied by jumping off a bench with triggers that lets a judge know who jumped first), it was his first one ever, and it was the start of my second year. It was one of the best days of my life. We got in a lot of trouble, such as getting chased across the church property by several people from our church who we were spying on with my youngest sister. Just saying, they were asking for it. A teenage boy and (a rather obviously hot) girl all alone in a dark room that was locked and had almost no windows and they were seated in a place that was almost impossible to see from the window behind them, yeah, they were asking for us to spy on them. They caught us and chased us around until they caught us. Would do it over again in a heartbeat though. Anyway, the inside joke comes from the very beginning of the quiz meet. The church we were at had some breakfast foods out, which was nice considering that it was not long after 8:30 and we had driven two and a half hours to get there. They had a good sized bowl of "Nutri-Grain" bars and we sat in the eating area and he ate a few, then grabbed another one on the way out. He ate it within a few minutes and asked if we could go back so he could get another bar. We did, and a few minutes later he asked if he could have another one. The cycle continued for quite awhile. He ate an impressive amount of Nutri-Grain bars. That's where our inside joke of "can I have a bar comes from." In regards to "Nicklybear," it comes from camp. He loved singing the song "Dumb Ways to Die," especially the line "poke a stick at a grizzly bear." I hated that song. So, one morning we were in the eating area and he was singing it to annoy me and I was in a particularly grumpy mood and didn't hide my grumpiness. Now, it make sense of this, you must know my dead-name is "Nicholas," but pretty much everyone except for old people called me "Nick." So, that morning with how grumpy and combative I was, he, with biggest, dumbest grin on his face changed the line to: "poke a stick at a Nicklybear." I just about killed him. I hated it at first, but over time it grew on me to the point of making it my whole branding for awhile. Even to this day my Tumblr blog's and Twitter username is Nicklybear. That's where I got that. Anyway, all this to say, I miss the guy. I love him dearly, and pray nothing but the best and I hope it works out between him and that girl he has loved for several years but has been too shy to admit to anyone but me (but everyone else knows it, and apparently she really loves him but doesn't recognize it herself. Seriously, why do people who love each other not recognize it? It makes no sense and is so dumb. Seriously, know yourself). I hope he is successful in life. He made quite a bit of money, more than I could ever dream of seeing. Love you man. May God bless you.
6/13/2021 0 Comments June 13th, 2021I have been slowly learning how true it is that whatever your relationship with your parents is like is a reflection of your relationship with God. I don't trust my parents and I don't trust God. I don't see either as good. My parents are abusive, and in the same way I see God as abusive. Those have already been established. Tonight I also realized that because I have always felt like a burden to my parents, I feel like a burden to God. I am terrified to ask Him for anything that's not extremely small. I don't want to be a nuisance. Plus, I am just used to going it alone. I believe I have to do everything in life completely alone or I have failed, because my family was never there for me growing up.
Just as I have always been scared of my parents, I am scared of God. Just as I have always been a let down to my parents, I consistently feel as if I am a let-down to God. If I am being honest, I don't believe His grace extends to me. Everytime I fuck up, I feel as if I have let-down God. I don't believe He could ever forgive me. Whenever I fucked up growing up I hid from my parents, because they never handled anything well. Now, I am attempting to hide from God because I am terrified of his wrath and punishing me in unfair ways. I don't believe God is good or just. I genuinely believe He hates me. Just as I always believed my parents did. Why God do you have to present yourself as our parent? An image that is so harmful? My parents never listened to me. They never were available, or, should I say, claimed to just "not have the time" for me, so I feel that God isn't available for me. I don't believe God will ever be there for me. I always feel a distance between me and God just as I always feel a distance between me and my parents. I don't believe God is there for me. He may be there for others, but not for me. I don't believe at all that He has my best interest in mind. I don't believe even remotely that He loves me. I don't view Him as the good shepherd, searching for the wandering. I view Him as the shepherd who left me to the wolves. In all honesty, I believe He hates me, just as I hate Him. All I feel in my heart is anger and bitterness. Anger and bitterness towards my parents and God. Mostly God. I have one cold, black heart. When the roll is called up yonder, I don't believe I will be there, at all. If I were a betting woman I would put all my money on spending eternity separated from God. I don't know what to do. What to believe. How to love. How to move on. I hate this bitterness and anger. I hate not believing that God loves me. I hate feeling like a nuisance to God and all these things. I just don't know how to change. The more I try to change, the worse everything gets. 6/11/2021 0 Comments June 11th, 2021Recently my mom made a comment to me on the lines of that she couldn't understand why me and my younger sisters couldn't see our own value. All three of us have no self-worth and have no confidence in ourselves or abilities. Mom didn't understand why. I know why, but I didn't say why. It's because of parental abuse. Mom, but mostly dad, abused all three of us kids growing up. Heck, my youngest sister is still being abused by them. My parents treated me the worst (that's agreed upon by my two sisters) and only got worse after finding out I'm trans (conversion therapy, wanting to send me to an all-boys school, and so many more terrible things) and required me to run away and be homeless for them to treat me with any respect at all. I won't even go into the abuse my sisters got. While I may be the most abused, some of the stuff my parents did to my sisters is so beyond abhorrent I sometimes try to forget about it for my own mental health. And this is stuff they did to my sisters, not me. It finally got to the point where in 2019 I literally almost murdered my dad in cold blood because I could handle the abuse anymore, and last summer on one night my dad was abusing my youngest sister so badly I almost murdered him again I was so beyond angry with what he was doing to her. I remember as a small child dreaming of getting away from my parents because I knew they didn't love me. They were never there for me. I remember trying to talk to them and get much needed emotional support as a kid, but they just apparently never had time for me. So, I learned that I didn't matter. I learned my emotions not only didn't matter but were bad and needed to be hidden away and never expressed. So, that's why. That's why neither me or my sisters can see our own self-worth. I don't believe I have any. I genuinely believe that when I die no one will care because I didn't do anything to make a good impact on anyone's life. I don't believe I'm capable of doing anything. I have no confidence at all. I'm completely worn down and broken. And yet my parents refuse to acknowledge any of their abuse. I mean, they have literally gaslighted all three of us kids at once to our faces before. I genuinely remember our dad lying to our faces claiming he never said something he absolutely did say and us kids going into my room afterwards and asking each other, "are we crazy? Are we just imagining things?" Even when brought to their attention examples of abuse, they have two responses: 1) deny it ever happened or claim we're exaggerating how bad it was, or 2) admit they did it and then ask for forgiveness and then start abusing us even worse shortly afterwards. Another thing that is so rich that my parents are doing right now is pretending that they always accepted me as trans. They genuinely act as if they were always accepting. As if they never sent me to conversion therapy, or almost sent me to an all-boys school in hopes it would make me "man up," or make me do a bunch of manual labor for months on end for the same reasons, or sit there for hours preaching to me why the Bible says being trans is wrong (and always conflating being trans with being gay, because you know, they're clearly the same thing. Yes, that was me being sarcastic. Just needed to make that clear so I don't get angry messages from people thinking I actually believe that). So, that's why. And of course, this lack of acknowledgement is why I can't grow closer to my parents. We do have the best relationship I ever had with them at the moment, but it's not that great of a relationship to be honest, because they refuse to own up to the fact that they seriously fucked us kids up. They just pretend they never abused us. Until my parents can acknowledge that and literally turn from those abusive ways, our relationship can never grow beyond what I consider to be a "passable" relationship. It's good enough that I will see my parents twice a week, but not enough for me to confide in them much or to ever move back in with them. I'd rather sleep in the streets than live under the same roof with them.
6/4/2021 0 Comments June 04th, 2021I don't trust God. I keep failing Him. He gives me great opportunities, but because I'm a fearful idiot, I turn them down. I have honestly stopped asking Him for anything for me. If I pray, which is getting more and more rare, I only pray for others. I don't pray for myself anymore. Why should I? I never take advantage of any of the opportunities He presents me either out of depression or fear. God shouldn't give me anything. I keep squandering His grace. That, and I keep failing Him in every other way as well. Bitterness and anger are constantly taking over my life. I always allow my cynicism to turn into bitterness and anger and start dreaming of violence and wishing death on people I can't stand. I'm not loving. I'm not loving at all. I don't live a life that looks anything like Jesus. I can't. I know so many, including people around my age who when you meet them, you just feel the Holy Spirit. You know there is something different about them. You feel the love and grace they have just being in their presence. Then there's me. I always allow myself to fall into hatred and fear. I allow my doubts to win. I have no strength anymore. I don't trust God. I don't even go to Him for anything anymore. I shouldn't even bother asking Him for anything, because I won't take advantage of it. I'm a failure. I'm a horrible Christian who can't love. I'm a Christian who can't trust God. I can't even understand what love even is. I can't even get myself to read the Bible. I let fear win. Maybe I am nothing more than a vessel prepared for God's wrath. That's what I assumed I was years ago before accepting myself as trans. Maybe I was right, but not for the reasons I assumed. Back then I assumed I was just a vessel of God's wrath because I was trans. Now it's because my life is the exact opposite of everything in the Bible, heck, the exact opposite of what I even preach. To be honest, I don't practice what I preach. Most of what I preach I just say in hopes that if I put it out there publicly, I'll start living that way. But, I have no accountability at the end of the day, so I don't change. I feel no connection to God. It feels as if there's a wall between us. Maybe because I have no connection with the rest of the body of Christ due to bitterness and fear. I don't know how to change. I want to. I don't know how. I literally cannot live with myself the way I am right now. I have been desiring death so much lately because of how bad my life is right now. All I feel is intense shame. If I'm being honest, I don't really even know if I am a Christian anymore. If I am not practicing anything I preach. If I don't trust God, and don't love, am I a Christian? Just from what I have read in the Bible, I don't think so. Just fucked up too much. I don't know. I don't know anything. If I am being honest, I wouldn't even know what to pray for anymore. I have nothing left. Just my pride, my cynicism, my bitterness and anger. My brokeness. My shitty life. My lack of faith. God, if you are out there and love me… I don't even know. I wish I could talk to you. But, how? Even if I could understand how, what do I even say? Shouldn't I have all this figured out by now? All I guess I can say is: please forgive me, though that's probably the very last thing I should ask for. I don't deserve any at all. All I do is fuck everything up. Please just forgive me God. I used to ask you to use me. I used to ask you to be my provider. I don't know how I could ask you for those things again when I was always so ungrateful and fearful. Just please forgive me God. Even if I am eternally damned. Just forgive me for my lack of trust, at least. I've got nothing left God. I won't even ask for strength. I don't deserve any and shouldn't have any. I will just squander it. That's all I ever do.
Oh, and God, one last thing. You know that situation that is going on? The one that literally no one else knows about except you and me? The one in which I know what the right thing to do is, but am too scared to do so because it could cause further divisions between me and my parents and my parents are all I have right now? Like, why would you give me such a moral dilemma? My parents are all I have God, you know that. We don't have the best relationship to start with, but they are all I have. I don't have anyone else I ever get to see in real life. They are the only people in my life who are family, even if they're not much of a family because of how abusive they are. You know I don't have a chosen family to spend time with. I don't have a spiritual family to be around. Why would you ask for me to do this thing that could cause a division? Sure, this thing wouldn't end a relationship between us by itself, but it could be just another fracture that leads to a completely broken relationship someday (as opposed to a pretty broken relationship now). I have to keep my parents. They're all I got and I left them once. I don't have the strength to cut them out of my life again if this just leads to more fracturing. I just wish I could talk about this. Why did you give me such a dilemma that I had to carry the burden of alone? It's times like this that I hate you, if I am being honest. I know it's wrong too. Hate is a sin, and you are the creator of the universe. Heck, you created me. The only reason I breathe or think or type plant of this out is because of you. Yet, sometimes, I literally hate you, such as when I think of this moral dilemma. Help me dear God to not hate you. 5/30/2021 0 Comments May 30th, 2021I don't even truly know what I want. I finally realized that just a few minutes ago while feeling miserable as I forced myself to listen to Quadeca's terrible album "From Me to You" (why I do that kind of shit to myself I will never know. I really need to stop forcing myself to listen all the way through terrible albums). Anyway, what I realized is that my different "personalities" as you could say have pretty much merged. Now, I do not want to imply that I have multiple personality disorder, I am just using the term "personalities" for lack of a better one. Anyway, so, there's the part of me that I created to "protect" me from trauma. I used it to pretend to my parents that I was every bit as evil as they wanted to believe, and to repress what I truly wanted because of abuse. For instance, giving up all my hopes and dreams because of abuse. I still love those things, I have just repressed my love for those things. To the outside world I pretended that I had completely gotten over all of those things, and made it seem like that I had moved completely on, and eventually over time I started convincing myself that it was so, even though it was a blatant lie. For examples: I loved astronomy. I knew I wanted to be an astronomer. My dad decided that it wasn't a good career path for me, so he made sure that I knew that it wasn't acceptable to chase after professionally. So, I pretended that I didn't really care for astronomy anymore. Over time, I started convincing myself that maybe I was. Well, I never did stop caring for it, in my heart of hearts I still do love it, but there's so much trauma attached to it that I cannot bring myself to get back into studying astronomy. Stuff like that. So many wishes, desires, and loves I had to repress just to be acceptable in the eyes of my parents. So many things I started convincing myself that I was over and sometimes forgot about for awhile. So, now, I have a problem. I don't truly know what it is I desire, what is the real me in certain cases. There are certain things where I genuinely don't know what my true thoughts and feelings are. I know I used to have a strong feeling about these things, I used to be certain, but when I had to pretend to be different for the sake of my parents, I gradually forgot what my original position was, and my new position became so ingrained that now I have no idea what was the one I took on to deal with trauma and which is my true self. My traumatized repressed self has merged with, well, my true self. I don't even know what is my true self anymore. To illustrate what I mean better, let us pretend that I didn't remember whether I liked astronomy or not when I was little. If that were the case, today I would sit here and wonder: "did I always like astronomy, or did I pretend to like astronomy only to keep my parents off my back? I can't remember." It's gotten to the point that for some things like that I feel one way in one mood, and another way in a different mood. I'm such a damn mess. What is my natural desires? I don't know anymore, outside of a few things that I do remember.
5/26/2021 0 Comments May 26th, 2021I can't handle guys and I cannot understand them. A guy hit on me yesterday. This was my first (and so far, only time) being hit on. I should have seen it coming. Ok, I kinda did but was just hoping I was mis-understanding the set-up for his hitting on me (quite clearly horny). I didn't take the compliment. I didn't respond at first, he then pushed me for a response. So, I stupidly responded. I told him I didn't know how to respond and told him I was only used to being told I was ugly and not recieving compliments. I could tell he was disappointed. I didn't accept the compliment. I made excuses to not respond. I genuinely didn't know how to respond in the moment. I didn't know what I really felt in the moment. Several hours Iater I now know that I should have told him, "thank you, but being hit on does make me feel uncomfortable. I'm glad you find me visually pleasing, but if you would, please don't hit on me." (Of course, the other problem is that even if I knew at the time to say that, I doubt I could bring myself to say that to not make him feel bad) Now I just feel uncomfortable with him hitting on me, telling me that he thought I'm hot. First off, I don't think I look good at all, so I am stunned that a guy could find me hot in the first place. Second, I hate being seen strictly for my looks. It makes me so uncomfortable. I don't want to be known for being visually pleasing (or discomforting). I want to be known for my personality, how I treat others, my thoughts and fears, etc. The thought that anyone would ever think of me as "hot" is scary to me. Don't get me wrong, I am glad that someone actually thinks I'm good looking, it's a nice break from the assholes who's comments I constantly delete from my YouTube channel who love to let me know that I am the ugliest woman they have ever seen. So, being "hot" in and of itself isn't bad for me, I guess it's that someone is getting horny over me, finds me hot enough to hit on, and that I am just seen as some hot chick on the internet rather than Anna, the human being who is so much more than my looks. It kinda makes me feel sub-human to be honest to know that when some people see me, they don't see a person, they see a thing to get horny over. They see a beautiful pair of breasts, not a person. A pretty face, but not a person. Thing is, I feel very uncomfortable being hit on.
Another problem is that I cannot take a compliment. I have been torn down my whole life. I never mattered. My accomplishments never mattered. Everything was to be torn down. It's gotten to the point that I don't bother attempting anything really. I don't see a point in taking any risks or trying to make anything any better. I'll just get torn down for it. So, yeah, I cannot handle compliments. If I am being honest, being complimented makes me feel bad. It feels unearned, it feels wrong to receive. I will find any excuse for why you shouldn't compliment me. I will likely make you wish that you hadn't complimented me, if I respond at all. I can't handle them. I feel horrible for not being able to take a compliment. I actually hate myself for it. I mean, what is wrong with me? Anyway, yeah, I got hit on, didn't know how to respond, hate being hit on, and I can't take compliments. Also, I don't understand guys, at all. I have no idea how to deal with guys, especially when they're finding me rather hot. Like, how do you deal with guys in such a case? I genuinely don't know. I don't understand men one bit, and I can't figure out how to deal with th em in a good way. Tips are genuinely appreciated. Guys are a mystery to me that it's clear I need to understand to some extent now if they're going to hit on me now. Also, how do you handle being hit on? I got so depressed last night. I can't handle being hit on, but I know that I can't let myself get that depressed again whenever I get hit on again. I guess that's a new reality I unfortunately have to get used to. Never got hit on as a man. I guess it never really became real to me until now that living as a woman means that guys are going to hit on me now. I don't know how to handle it. How am I supposed to deal with all this? I don't want it. How do you deal with something so unwanted? Ugh. 5/25/2021 0 Comments May 25th, 2021I am a dirtbag Christian. Unfortunately, as I found out, I am not the first to come up with the term as there is already an existing Substack newsletter with the title. As it turns out, she came up with the name the same way I did and has a lot of the same reasons I now use the name. So, since she is now the de facto founder of "Dirtbag Christianity," here are some excerpts I want to focus on from her article explaining the term (you can read the whole article here: https://dirtbagchristian.substack.com/p/what-is-a-dirtbag-christian): If you’re unfamiliar with the term “dirtbag Christian” that’s okay. As far as I know, I made it up. Not because I’m particularly original or clever because I certainly am not, but because I stole the term from the so-called “dirtbag left,” a term coined to describe the leftists who shirk overly PC/Tumblr culture and generally don’t give a shit about politeness while there’s actual, real, horrific economic injustice in the world. This is exactly how I came up with the term as well, being an avid listener of "Dirtbag left" podcasts such as "Red Scare" and "Chapo Trap House." However, I love the dirtbag concept. The idea that you’re a shitty, unacceptable, controversial person in your own circles is something I recognize in myself in the context of Christianity, not politics. No matter where I was in my theological journey, no matter what church I was attending at the time, I’ve always been an outcast, and dare I say it, a rebel. I totally relate to this. Even when I was a disphit conservative fundamentalist who believed in a literal Genesis account of creation and the Earth being only 6,000 years old, I still didn't believe a lot of the narratives pushed by Answers in Genesis, and pushed back regularly. I literally got in trouble with the Children's Church teacher for challenging the all-knowing wisdom of Ken Ham. I challenged the world-wide flood narrative. I questioned their teachings on Jesus. Even outside of theology, my lifestyle wasn't considered ok. I was always a wimp. I have been in more fights than I can count, and have never won a single one. I have lost to kids five years younger than me. That's how physically wimpy I was. I had no muscle mass, no matter how much I tried. I also acted a bit effeminate. That also wasn't acceptable. Between my wimpiness and being effeminate, I got bullied a lot and many adults had a poor view of me. I wasn't the "manly man" I was supposed to be. So, yeah, even when I was as conservative and fundamentalist as it got, I still was an outcast and rebel. I had no friends the majority of the time. I fully relate to what was said in the last quote. I have never been acceptable even in my own circles. Even today as a progressive trans woman I still butt heads with other trans women over trans issues and theology because apparently I hold "unacceptable" positions. My dirtbag Christianity is best represented when I’m getting stoned off my ass and listening to mewithoutYou, or when I’m posting thirst trap pictures where both my Jesus fish tattoo and barely concealed, obviously pierced nipples are visible, or when I’m reading the Bible app and trying to pray for myself to not actively wish death threats upon prominent conservative figures, or when I’m playing Final Fantasy XIV and making references to Vintage21 Jesus parody videos that nobody else gets, or when my kids giggle as I accidentally drop the f-bomb in front of them for the 10th time that day. Here we go. Everything is now getting neatly summed up, and there's a lot I relate to. One of those things is actively trying not to wish death upon prominent conservative figures. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of times where in my head I envisioned some conservative figure getting beat to death after hearing them say something awful. In fact, there have been times when I have found myself starting to ask God for death, injury, illness or just any kind of serious harm before having to stop myself and ask for forgiveness. Anyway, I like what she said. Being a dirtbag Christian is an attitude. It's not giving a fuck about being respectable, about being some kind gentle Christian with all the answers and trying to unify with evangelicals. Like her, I don't give a single fuck about whether evangelicals consider me a Christian or not. Evangelicals can kiss my ass for all I care. Even more than that though, it's having that kind of attitude in regards to ALL Christians, not just evangelicals. Stop caring whether your theology is acceptable or not. Not caring if other Christians consider your life or presentation to be acceptable or not. I don't give a fuck. I have no interest in toning down my language because it might offend other Christians sensibilities, and I have no interest in changing my theology because it's not "orthodox" or because it's "heretical." Your pastor can kiss my ass as well. I don't care what some dude who went to Seminary and has a Master in Divinity thinks about my theology. I never listened to pastors or any person a Christian is "supposed" to listen to, and I don't plan to start doing so. I don't need your approval of my life, theology, or whatever. Now, here is where I without a doubt will take it far beyond what the writer of the article I am quoting would ever take it. For me personally, reading all this really helped set in place what I have believed for years now but have never been comfortable saying in public: the American church is irreparably broken and I hope it burns. I hope the American church becomes such a massive embarrassment to the point it burns down in such a blaze that the entire world takes notice. I want Christians to feel that they have no choice but to pretend that they're not Christians if thet want to have any place in society. The church is broken. It is founded upon oppression. It's entire theology and structure is based upon the oppression of women, black people, immigrants, queer people, poor people, and any other marginalized group you can think of. It has been built specifically to prop up the evangelical rich white straight cisgender male and fuck everyone else over. There is not a single Christian thing about the American church. It propped up slavery and segregation and even today is pro-mass incarceration and pro-drug war. It is anti-immigrant. It has always pushed to ensure women have no rights. It views "The Handmaid's Tale" as a guidebook of what to do rather than what not to do. The church has no regard for the widow or orphan. In fact it scorns both and actively makes life harder for both. It promotes capitalism, and all the evil that comes along with it. It supports Trump who is undeniably an anti-Christ. The church has a rotted foundation. It can't be saved. Let it burn, and then, once it does, I and others will be glad to swoop in and help build the church up. Until then I have no interest in being part of the American church. It simply is fundamentally against everything the Bible actually teaches. Anyway, reading this article helped me feel more comfortable with being open with my views, such as this one. It has helped me to give less of a fuck of what others think. Not censor myself to not offend others. I have no interest in being respectable. I have no interest in being a diplomat. I have come with a flamethrower, and I intend to use it. That is who I am. The one who questions everything and to whom nothing is sacred. The one who says what no respectable progressive theologian or blogger would ever say, because, you know, it's not "respectable." I have come with a sword, just like Jesus demanded. Jesus was not some peace-loving advocate as he has been presented as. He told the disciples to go buy swords. He Himself said He came with a sword and intended to cause divisions. He wrecked the temple courts. When the Romans came to arrest Him and Peter cut off the guy's ear, Jesus told the Romans, NOT Peter that anyone who lives by the sword dies by the sword. It wasn't a warning to Peter, it was a warning to the Romans. Jesus isn't a peace advocate. So, I follow His example. I am here to kick ass in the trans and theological discourse. Besides, it's not like I have anything to live for or have a reputation to defend. I have always had a bad reputation and never had a life anyway. Anyway, I will end this article with this paragraph with no comment, because, honestly, what is there to add? I still identify as a Christian. I’m deeply obsessed with the figure of Christ, with the idea of overthrowing empires and pushing forth the lowest class people and all the other rejects. I want to find the most controversial, trashiest, broken people and see more God in them than any of the all-American mannequin pastors with their perfect teeth smiles. I imagine the kingdom of God here on earth, and I see the Resurrection as a reminder that no matter how bad things look, they can get better again. It’s the only optimism left in my hopelessly cynical life some days, and it’s enough. Jesus is enough. And at the end of the day, I still want everyone around me to feel like they’re enough, too. To subscribe to the Dirtbag Christian newsletter, go here: https://dirtbagchristian.substack.com/
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AuthorHi! I'm Anna, a currently transitioning transgender woman! I started my blog "Ramblings of a Trans Woman" as therapy for gender and identity issues and abuse from my parents and church. Hopefully, someone else out there can get something from this. If you want to talk, just get in contact with me, there's plenty of ways how and we'll discuss the best way to talk! Archives
June 2022
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