The consequences of miscommunication

Keira Kristine
Aug 31, 2018 · 8 min read

After the ridiculousness that was yesterday’s text and my subsequent meltdown I decided to write you a letter while it’s fresh and still matters. Your text upset me on a number of levels. I had hoped for some kind of compassion or understanding ear but since transition you have become more distant and increasingly abrasive with me. I would think if you knew I was having difficulties you would extend a helping hand. After all I help people all the time without being asked and I love doing it but the one time I actually needed a sympathetic ear and just to know I wasn’t alone in this you blasted me with ladders and holes. Among scoffing at what I go through. Is my condition terminal you didn’t ask? Well considering I still contemplate suicide as a viable alternative I’d say yes. Gender dysphoria is cancer. You had your breasts operated on and I will have my genitals operated on and at the end hopefully my dysphoria will be lessened or ended. So yes I have cancer in my body and soul. A different form but it eats me alive nonetheless.

This last year I have changed so much. The things I’ve accomplished I’m really proud of. I worked my ass off this entire time. Little to no breaks despite the deluge of pictures on Facebook that is me living my life in what time I have in-between being at work. When I sent you the video about the task force you were so critical and shitty about it. What is this? This will never do anything, no one is going to watch it. That hurt so much. I put every fiber of my being into what I’m doing for the transgender community. You had disregarded it like it was nothing. All this progress with a major health plan in America and it’s nothing. Among the other things I mentioned that you weren’t interested in. Probably because it’s trans related so it’s just a waste of time. You couldn’t bring yourself to say Keira I see the change in you and I’m proud of you. In your heart I’m just not there at all. In all honesty it probably wouldn’t matter what I do it wouldn’t be sufficient.

You allowed your husband to viciously attack my Mom about me being trans and how I was not allowed in your home under any circumstance. Then have the audacity to state that I threw my only family away. What family? I’m not allowed to be in your home or did you forget? I didn’t. Then after all that and knowing your husband is completely wrong you defend him. He means well. Really? To state that I’m against God and an abomination and God made “Man and Woman” and on and on. You were complicit in this egregious attack on my Mom at Easter time because your husband wouldn’t tolerate my presence. I got through it and forgave you for it realizing these things take time.

You scoffed that I don’t know what suffering is so allow me to educate you. Where were you when my Mom gave me up to your parents that you knew were abusive? No helping hand for your sister then. Thrown to the wolves. Was it guilt that put you in the hospital with her knowing that giving me up is what caused her to almost die? I imagine you struggled with that. Now let’s focus specifically on me. Where were you when your mother pulled me up out of my chair in the kitchen when I was doing my homework by my hair ripping out a handful from the top of my head and then throwing me down the basement stairs which led to the permanent scar under my eye. Whatever I said or did totally justified that. Or how about the time I was pushed face first into the metal of an open car door? I have a nice scar from that too. How about when your Mom went through my room while I was on vacation at my actual Mom’s house and discovered a bunch of girls clothes and then beat me relentlessly when I came home. Getting hit in the head with a belt buckle is something that stays with you. Being dragged in front of her church to be told I’d never stop paying for the crime I had committed. Where were you then? How about all the times I was told I ruined their lives and I was worthless. Remember you had a brother and a sister to help you. I had no one. It was just me alone with them. And what was the consequence of that?

“Your” mother with fictitious illness syndrome. Projecting her love of being sick all the time onto me. Being forced onto Ritalin. Having separate snacks at school for birthday parties oh everyone is having cake and candy here’s your granola bar. Creating a stigma. Being chased down the road off the bus. Being held down at boy scout meetings and beaten mercilessly by fellow scouts. Being spit on and called a faggot. Being placed on a milligram so high adults would be hard pressed to tolerate it. Being put in mental health and going in the sed class. Losing 4 years of schooling. Being put on Lithium and melaril. Constantly being harassed by the boys in my school. Where were you to talk me down and explain why these things were happening to me? Where were you to put it all into context. I spent so much time alone. But I wouldn’t know anything about suffering would I?

I was always a non entity to you an absolute afterthought. Through adoption brother and sister in title only. How weird that was for me to grow up knowing my adoptive sister was my mother what the actual fuck? No social issues could possibly stem out of that. So being completely absent in every meaningful way in my development now that I’m older you try to lump responsibility onto me like I’m actually your sister. As if we grew up together and I should just shoulder all these burdens when you were like I don’t care if you exist for the entirety of my life. We have had moments here and there and you have shown me kindness which makes it so much more jarring when you blast me with bitterness. I get your life wasn’t easy and mine was no picnic either. I did whatever I had to just to survive. I would say whatever I had to and act however I had to just to get out from under the microscope. I didn’t have anyone to protect me from the constant beatings that I know you endured as well.

As a young adult I got into a lot of trouble and quickly became an alcoholic and drug user. Again nowhere in the times I was trying to drink myself to death, an actual goal in the year of 1995. You were nowhere to be found. As I descended down the rabbit hole of self destruction you stood idly by and watched me burn. And how about throughout my marriage once in a great while we could have a semi meaningful led by you conversation and all other times you just criticized me for every choice and everything I acquiesced to in my marriage. Which coincidentally became an extension of my childhood where I did what I had to just to get through another day. Living a fake life I hated myself, you and the entirety of the planet. Did you help in any way? No you just presented me with a list of my failures. Then one day I decided that it wasn’t worth going through one more day living a lie. I came out and I tried to repair and start anew with what there is of our little family. It didn’t have to go this way. I gave you a clean slate and a chance to get to know me, the real me. First sign of hardship dropped like I was just a scourge to your life. I’m so sorry that you can’t see anything of value in me or the things I’m working on.

Because they matter. They may not matter to you but they matter to me. I work hard. I may not live up to your lofty standards of income but I'm making a difference in lives every day. What are you doing other than sitting around being miserable and complaining? This is a rift there's no doubt about it. Maybe it is insurmountable. All it would take is one apology and some recognition and we would be fine. We could go get lunch and chat away about whatever, but you are so bitter towards me I simply don't have time for it. When you grow up, at age 60 something and decide you want to have a civil conversation and maybe give a shit about what's going on in the pandemonium and chaotic maelstrom that is my life. Instead of making demands and placing expectations when you’ve done literally nothing to bridge the gap between us just expect everything to be dandy. I sometimes think of our family and just sigh. Choices, they can haunt the best of us. I guess we both have to live with being childish assholes.

Your Niece,

Keira Kristine.

08/30/2018

As an Epilogue of sorts my god I’ve come a long way in a year.

This was originally wrote as an open letter to my Aunt. I retitled it because this is far more accurate. I am reluctant to take it down as it can serve as a learning lesson to myself and others. I blasted my Aunt and my Mom after some miscommunication a few months back. I had felt attacked and retaliated with this letter. It sent waves of hurt throughout my family. Since that time a month or so ago my dear friend Janelle facilitated a sit down between my Mom and I and started the overdue process of healing.

Everything is on a good track and moving forward. A couple days ago my Mom had alluded to me possibly going to the family Christmas at my Aunts house. Despite what happened I am fully open to it. Later in the morning my Mom stated that my Aunt was waiting for an apology and my Uncle maintained his stance. I don’t really know what was said in that conversation and I don’t want to know. It was disappointing and I mentioned I was sad on Facebook and got on with life.

This morning 12/5/2018 I called my Mom because she had left a message on my voicemail and it turned out after the conversation my Uncle spent some time thinking about things and then researched trans issues and called my Mom and they opened up and had a dialogue about it. My Mom really came through and advocated for me and now my Uncle who as of writing this letter originally I had believed would never accept me and I just had to give up on any and all ideas of acceptance in the larger family when this miracle occurred. I am so grateful and honored that he actually took the time to try to understand what I am going through. I think that took a lot of courage and should be celebrated. I will of curse update after the holidays when I’m on the other side of the visit. Here is a real opportunity to open a mind and change a heart. I am so grateful for the chance.

Keira Kristine 12/05/2018

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