Crossed Challenge Lines

Life lets us experience things we don’t, at times, want to experience. For me, I’d experienced things that had changed me as a person. Things that my formerly brainwashed mind thought were normal. Until I’d moved away and saw just how different life could be for me. Things I’d grown up around weren’t as normal as I’d thought. The religion I’d been raised in never made sense to me. I’d been taught to not question it. That doing so would lead to things I wouldn’t want happening while there being no mention of what those things were.  That I could be myself.  

My life hadn’t been the easiest. I grew up in a town where religion reigned supreme. A religion that said it was wrong for me to be who I am. One where I was often shamed for it. That I had to be something I wasn’t. Something I’d never once identified as. I’d get the usual statements. I’d always respond the same. I began letting my actions speak for me. I’d never been able to have conversations because of people often interrupting me while I spoke. So I didn’t often speak as a result. I’d made a point to speak with powerful intent when I did. A kind of intent where people wanted to listen rather than interrupt me. 

I’d moved away for a few years. I’d been able to live my life as happily as I could. Despite the fact I was half homeless most of the time. The person I’d moved in with that let their actions speak for them as well. I didn’t mind roaming around South Florida with the little money I had most of the time. It gave me something to write about. A habit, a pattern, that was prominent in my life was people letting their actions speak for them. For some reason. A habit and pattern I listened to. I’d let my own actions speak for me since people seemed to never want to listen to anything I said. They’d listen to my actions and wanted me to speak. They wanted to know why my actions were the way they were. I would speak my mind. They never liked it when I did. I didn’t care. 

The move home meant I’d a challenge line ahead of me. A challenge line I wasn’t so sure I wanted to cross. Nothing had changed. Despite the fact I had. I kept letting my actions speak for me. Whilst others did the same. I had the same issues I’d had for the last decade. The inability to find a job. Much less keep one after I found one. I wasn’t qualified for half the jobs that were around. I kept getting screwed while working at the few jobs I had. Remote jobs weren’t an option because of the fact I lacked qualifications for them. I began presenting myself differently after the last one. I found a job in a place that loved me for who I am. Where I was valued as a worker with my pay and hours reflecting that. I was often told how good I was at my job. That I was going places in life with the resilience and perseverance I had. 

Family gatherings weren’t something I looked forward to. I knew what was going to happen each time. There was more than once where I decided to not go because of the fact I knew what was going to happen. I even volunteered to work on those days if needed. Something my bosses didn’t mind considering the fact they understood why I didn’t want to go. They’d seen the brief interactions I had with my “family” when they came in to “see me work” the few times they came in. They’d loved the fact I was willing to stand up to their ignorance in my own way. That I’d distanced myself from them because of their bigotry. They didn’t mind having me work on days there were get togethers. Holidays included. 
I’d had enough. A comment made at a family gathering I did go to being the last time I willingly went to a family gathering. I’d shamed my family with a hypocritical bigot speech the day I’d cut all contact with them. My dad included. They’d let their actions speak far louder. Things they’d said coming from a place of ignorance. From a place where their religion told them my “phase” was going to pass. At some point. Whilst they seemingly loved my Gay cousin and his partner for who they are. Religion kept people in a place of fear. Of being submissive to an idea without there being much sense or even reason in the teachings. None of it ever made sense to me growing up. Until I’d moved away for a few years. Far away from the brainwashed beliefs. Far away from the people who’d let their actions speak far louder than anything they’d ever said. 

I’d distanced myself from them. I’d let my actions speak far louder than anything I’d ever be able to say. They’d wanted to know why I’d been so distant. They’d, yet again, been challenged by me being who I am. By me presenting myself entirely masculine. By me being seen as Male by everyone in my present life. I’d seen the challenge line that’d been crossed by me simply being who I am. I didn’t care. I’d let that show. So I’d spoken my mind for once. I’d let them know this is who I am. That I’m male. That I’d always known who I am. That their ignorance and religion told them it was just a phase I was going through despite it being shown, by me directly, as otherwise. That I was going to continue being who I am. 

Challenging them wasn’t something I was afraid of anymore. They’d let their actions speak louder than anything they’d ever say. I’d let my actions do the same. People would often talk over me anytime I did talk. Part of the reason I’d stopped talking. People didn’t listen to me or would ignore me the rest of the time. My own family included. They didn’t believe me when I’d say things on top of that. Their hypocritical beliefs along with their bigotry being two things that proved my point. Often. It was their beliefs in someone who constantly contradicted themselves in a book written by men that never made sense. Something else I’d challenged in the conversation that night. I’d challenged their beliefs. I’d challenged their bigotry. Their hypocrisy. I had pointed both of them out. 

“Aunji, where’s all this coming from?”
”It’s coming from a place of wanting to be who I am whilst all of you would rather me someone I’m not”
”That’s not what-”
”Yes it is true. Whether any of you want to admit it or not. It’s true. You’re all bigots and hypocrites”
”That’s uncalled for”
”Why? Because it’s not something you want to be confronted with? I DON’T care anymore. You’ve let your actions speak for you so I’m letting mine do the same. I’m leaving. Don’t expect me at anymore gatherings. None of you have ever been my family”

I no longer cared what any of them thought. They’d let their actions speak for the while I let mine speak for me. I’d distanced myself from them. I’d let myself feel the emotions that came from everything. I’d let myself feel everything I was feeling. I knew my time in the town I’d grown up in was coming to an end. I didn’t care if I was homeless. I was no longer worried about anything. I was financially stable enough to leave if I wanted to. Despite the fact I wanted to save a little more. I knew I’d be able to leave on a whim if I had to. I was okay with that. I’d already drastically downsized to the point I was able to pack everything I needed and leave. I’d already packed a few things up in case I had to leave in a hurry. Less for me to do in the event I left in a hurry. 

The inevitable happened less than a week later. An ultimatum came my way. Dad had “the talk” with me as far as what happened at the family gathering. I told him everything he needed to hear that he didn’t want to hear. I’d called him out on his lies toward me. I’d called him out on things he refused to talk about. Or even mention. I’d no shame in doing so. It needed to happen at some point. Now was the best time considering he was giving me an ultimatum I wasn’t willing to agree to. Pressure from everyone else, family included, in an effort to make me conform to something I didn’t agree with. He wasn’t expecting me to respond the way I had. He wasn’t expecting the kind of reaction he got from me. I told him I’d rather be homeless than continue living with him. That he was as much of a hypocrite and bigot as the rest of the family was. Along with anyone else that’d pressured him into giving me this ultimatum. 

“You have two options”
”No, I only have one and that’s leaving”
”You’re overreacting”
”And you’re being submissive to a bunch of hypocrites and bigots”
”Just-”
”No, I’m not going to listen. You are. You’re being a bitch to these people because of being pressured into doing this. I will never care about people that never once loved me and let their actions speak for them”
”That’s-”
”Whether you want to admit it or not that’s what’s happening. My mother would be ashamed of you. I’m packing up and I’m leaving and going no contact with you along with them”

I’d made a social media post prior to leaving. I knew he was going to lie. I knew what was going to happen before it actually happened. I was going to let my side be heard before he was even able to do so. To let others know what was going on from my perspective. That he was likely going to lie through his teeth. That he, and likely along with family, were going to smear my name and what I’d said. I knew they’d lie as well. People who knew them and sided with me distanced themselves from him. Along with the rest of my family. I’d already unfriended dad along with the rest of my family. They had no place in my life. They didn’t deserve to stay in my life in any facet. 

I’d walked away from the life I’d once had the day I’d packed and left. He’d left for school as usual knowing I’d not be there when I got home. Then again, I’d pretty much already left by this point. I went to a hotel for the last night I was there. He just didn’t realize it. He was too busy scrolling through social media to pay attention to me before. He’d often not hear what I was talking about as a result. It’d meant he’d either misheard what I said or not heard me at all leaving me angrily shaming him for it. It was much the same while I’d packed and left. I’d packed what little I needed to pack and left. He hadn’t even realized it until he came out of his room to tell me to get out and realized I’d already left. 

I’d put my dirty clothes in a bag and gone to a hotel for the night. I’d spent part of the night doing laundry. I’d packed the rest of those clothes before going to bed. I’d rearranged everything while the laundry was getting done. The little I’d slept was worth it. I was out before check out time. A few friends picked me up from the hotel and took me to the thruway stop where I was going to hop on a bus to the train station. A train bound for South Florida. Where I was going to have a far happier life than I’d had. They saw how much I’d grown as a person in the time since I’d cut all contact with my family. It had been two weeks since the family gathering. I’d taken a stand then and every day since. I’d become far more outspoken when confronted by people I no longer considered friends. Or even acquaintances.

People that knew me since childhood confronted me in the last two weeks I was in town. They’d tried shaming me about what happened. That they’re still family. I’d shamed them instead. That family or not they were still toxic. They had no place in my life as a result. That I was no longer allowing that kind of toxicity in my life. That I’m leaving either way. For good. I had shared my point of view. I shared my perspective. I’d let them know how happy I’ve been in being myself. That my mother would be proud of who I am. That she loves me for who I am. She’d been gone twenty years. She’d let me know she’d always been proud of me. 

Smiling, finally, in an apartment close to the beach became my life. I was finally able to have the life I wanted. In a place I loved. It’d not taken me long to find a job. I’d stayed in a long term hotel until my third paycheck where I was able to get the apartment I was living in. An apartment close to the beach as well as work. It wasn’t much. It was something I was proud of though. A studio apartment with the basic necessities.   

I was finally at a point in my life where I was openly myself. In a place where people were going to love me for who I am. I had everything I needed. The only thing I wanted was the life I now had. I wanted to eventually travel. I’d planned for that after getting my job as a Marketer for a club. A job that paid far more than I ever expected. A job where I was able to plan my travels for the following summer. Travels taking me on a tour of the places I wanted to see.