Tag Archive | Parents

Still Unseen

[CN: family]

My dad turned away that day
And never turned back
He still can’t look at me
He only looks in my direction

Do you know I’ve only seen my dad cry twice?
The first time was when his father died
The second was when he saw me truly
He still won’t see me
Only what he wants me to be


Three years ago today.

sparse love

Three Years ago today
I flew over the Atlantic
My dad beside me
On our way to Ireland

It was the last time
That he loved me
That I wasn’t a burden
The family queer.

I have wonderful memories
Of time spent together
Laughing and bonding
A bond torn asunder.


A poem for my father

dedicated to my dad:


Look at your abomination

Look at me

See your daughter as herself

Speak her name.

You can’t.

All you can do is cry at the twisted visage of your lost son.

How dare you?

Do you know what I’ve been through?

How happy I am now?

Yet you cry and turn away.

Look at your abomination.

I came out to my parents

I’ve finally told them I’m a woman.

Well, their response was non-optimal, but good enough. At least they told me they still loved me. I have no idea where things are headed from here with them, but either way, I have a series of long conversations with them ahead of me.

In case you didn’t see it, I’m moving!!! I’ve got a fund-raiser going on to help with the costs. Please donate. I really could use the help. Or you could always donate to my transition fund.

Start spreading the news.

I’m moving to San Fransisco/the Bay Area in August!!!

The place I’m living is getting more and more unsafe. I need to leave soon. And I have friends and loved ones in the Bay. But moving is very expensive. I can’t rely on my parents to help me out here. I’m going to come out to them in mid-July, and they may just disown me. So I need those first month expenses covered.

Everyone who donates will finally find out where I live, and what I look like.

If we reach the $1500 mark, I will post the recipe that made my girlfriend say that I beat out all the best restaurants in San Francisco that we had eaten at while I was there.

I’ll take suggestions for the $2000 mark, and the $3000 goal.


spread this as far around as you can please!

Emily <3

a new poem after spending the day with my parents.

A Girl’s Day with Her Parents

a slap in the face
a closed fist
the sledgehammer strikes

*click click click*
isn’t He handsome
*click click click*
such a good picture of Him

Look. See.
Each word a blow
Each picture a slice
Leaving me broken and bleeding

The truth remains hidden.

A girl’s day with her Parents.

If you like my work, please consider donating.

To the person who found this blog searching for “Merry Christmas for Mom and Dad in Heaven”

I’m sorry to tell you this, but when we die, that’s it. The joy, pain, and everything in between is over. The best thing you can do for your parents is remember them. That way, they live on in you. That way, what they did can still affect the world through you. Cherish  your memories. And most of all, if you can, and still have a good relationship with the family you have now, cherish and enjoy them while you can, because we only get this one life. Especially if you still have a good relationship with them. Trust me. This comes from someone who is having severe family problems and may be disowned by the majority of my family, though I don’t know for sure.

I wish you the best.


My trip to my parent’s house wasn’t all sunshine and roses.

My parents did something that hurt me deeply, and I can’t tell them about it.

They had me take pictures with them with these “wax lips“. They have taken these pictures with most of the other members of my family. Now this might not sound that bad, but let me explain why this hurt me. These lips are exaggerated feminine lips, and the supposed comedy comes from the exaggeration on women and the femininity on men. So what this amounts to is a joke on exaggerated femininity on men. A man in a dress joke. A femmephobic, transphobic joke. And they want me to have a happy expression while they did this.


I hate having my picture taken, I always have.

I can’t stand looking at pictures of myself for the same reasons I can’t stand mirrors: dysphoria.

You want to make a transphobic joke out of me and femininity, and expect me to be happy about it.

Well then,



And I can’t say anything about it for several reasons.

  1. They’ve gotten pretty much everyone in my family to do it.
  2. It’s my mom’s 60th birthday. That’s the reason I went up there.
  3. I can’t refuse without getting into a huge fight and explaining why I don’t want to do it, outing myself as trans* in the process.


I can’t ruin my mom’s 60th birthday by getting in a huge fight and revealing that I’m transgender.

So I had to bite the fucking bullet. I hate having to pretend to be a straight male.

Work In Progress.

I’m headed up to my parents place for a few days. I won’t have any internet access. When I get back I’ll have a few blog posts ready to type up, and maybe even a sketch or two.  In the meantime here is a work in progress for you to take a gander at:

Pastel or Pencil?



So my question is, Should I finish this in pastel or pencil? I don’t use pastel that much, so it might come out pretty badly if I try. Pencil is what I’m familiar with, although I’m almost as good with pen and ink. Please leave a comment letting me know which one you think I should use.