Faye Rose~
Resilient
- 270
- Posts
- 10
- Years
- Ohio, United States
- Seen Jun 30, 2014
First of all, I'd like to thank my lovely, lovely friends TheZenTraveler and Sopheria for gifting me Community Supporter totally unexpectedly! I love you guys so much <3. Now I can have somewhere to post the blog that I've always wanted to have!
I actually did have a blog, but when my parents discovered my transgenderism (more on this in a minute) I was unable to update it, and it kind of died out after that. That is why this blog is called 'The Liberation of Faye Rose, REBIRTH', named after my original blog in January, tagged with REBIRTH at the end signaling the second coming. (It's also a reference to a TCG I play called Cardfight!! Vanguard)
Many of you may not know about my incredibly unique and difficult situation, so I'd like to take this first blog post of mine and use it as a basis of all about who I am, what I have gone through, and what this blog will be about in the future.
First of all, my name is Faye Rose, or just Faye if you wish. I'm 19 years old living in a crappy hick town in Ohio in the United States. The fact that everyone should know about me is that I am transgendered. I love who I am on the inside, but unfortunately, my parents do not.
Let's take a trip back in time shall we? It was February 1st, 2014. February is a historically terrible month for me (I blame Valentines Day; blech), but this particular February took the cake as the most terrible February of my life.
I woke up in the morning to the sound of my mother crying hysterically. I immediately knew what it was about. I had this gut feeling. I knew, somehow she had found out. She knew I was transgendered. I didn't know how she found out, but I knew she had. I just knew it in my gut.
I was right. The night before, before heading off to work, my father looked through my laptop history, and for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to keep all my accounts logged in and keep my history completely intact, he found my PokeCommunity profile and saw all of my posts and personal conversations with people discussing my transgenderism. He left for work, then called my mother after he left to deliver the news for her to deal with when I woke up. What a coward.
My mom took my sister to school, and then went to the store. Still crying uncontrollably. When she got home, I descended the stairs to be met with a flurry of groceries being thrown at me. She yells in this terrible, raspy voice 'Why do you want to be a girl?!?!?!' Yeah, she knew.
The next 2 hours were a screaming match, my mother saying all these terrible, inaccurate things about me personally and transgendered people in general. I attempted to get in contact with my therapist, I eventually got to talk to her, and she told me to get out of my house to avoid harm. I called up a friend, not telling him the exact situation, and he took me to another friend of mines house who's mom agreed to let me stay for the weekend. I stayed there until after the Super Bowl ended on that Sunday.
Then I had to return home. I got home, and the internet was shut off. This put me over the edge, they had taken away my only contact to the people who truly cared about me, because my own family sure as hell didn't. My mom claimed that 'the internet was brainwashing me to think you're a girl.' What an idiot. The woman can hardly say a coherent sentence and she claims to know everything. Enter, screaming match part 2. At one point during the screaming, my dad backed me into a corner, hit me multiple times, and threw things at me. I eventually talked them into a corner where they had run out of stupid comebacks and reasons, so they just sent me to bed and told me 'I would be dealt with tomorrow'.
I think the funniest thing they said to me that weekend was my dad telling me that my gender identity was his decision and not mine. Yeah right, buddy. You're the self titled "Christian" man who still watches porn almost every day on my laptop and thinks I'm completely unaware of it. Get a grip.
I woke up the next day, and my parents told me to get dressed. I could hardly speak due to screaming all the night prior, so I decided to not even bother and just got dressed. They took me to the hospital emergency room.
At first it had seemed like a normal emergency room visit. Then the nurses took me into a room with 3 small units and a bathroom. The rooms were bare, only with a TV encased in thick glass. I immediately broke down. I knew what was going on. The nurses came in and talked to me. I told them I wasn't insane; Transgenderism doesn't make me insane. The nurses agreed, but I'm not sure if they were really on my side or just trying to appease me. A therapist came in and questioned me. I told her exactly the events of the previous weekend. I stayed in that room for at least 6 hours, just watching Super Bowl highlights from the game the night before.
Then my parents came in. I lunged, still steamed that they took away my only contact to the people who truly cared about me. They just looked at me, as the nurse held me back. They told me that I'd be staying in the psychiatric ward for a while, and walked out.
Yes, because I'm transgendered, my parents THREW ME INTO AN ASYLUM. Awesome, fantastic, well done guys. /sarcasm
The first night in the psychiatric ward was terrible. The entire section of the hospital was run down, the rooms were bare, only with 2 beds (not even the semi-comfy ones that you can recline, like in a normal hospital room, they were like bricks to sleep on.) and a series of shelves to keep the belongings that they didn't deem unsafe. All I was allowed to keep was my shirt I wore to the hospital. I also had some papers that the staff gave me declaring my rights in the psych. ward and such.
I was a wreck. I was in an asylum, for crying out loud. A nurse noticed I wasn't like the other patients, and talked to me. I told her all that had happened, struggling to hold back my tears. She listened intently the entire time. She told me, 'You don't belong here'. 'Gender identity isn't a mental illness.' Finally, someone who treated me like an actual human being.
I could explain my entire stay in detail, but that would take me far too long, and it's not exactly an exciting thing for me to talk about personally. The next day my therapist came in, I am still seeing him now, and he is very supportive of me, thinks my parents are crazy, and is helping me forge a plan to get out.
I talked to the doctor who presided over the ward, he also knew I wasn't mentally ill or anything, he knew I was simply a depressed transgirl, and only diagnosed me with depression. Sadly, he could not do anything to help me with my trans issue, as that requires a specialist.
After that first day, I calmed down a lot. I began to become complacent, and even made a few friends, oddly enough. Not everyone in there was completely fried at the brain, a girl that I became friends with was an alcoholic, and was put in there to avoid jail time, but she was perfectly mentally healthy as far as I could know. She just had an alcohol problem. She was the first person besides the nurses that I told I was transgendered, she was really really cool about it, and I eventually told another patient, this one a male who was bisexual. The three of us actually became kind of good friends, for lack of a better term, and became collectively known as a group among the nurses. We were definitely the three most sane there.
The girl and guy left a day before me, and then I was out of there the next day, Thursday after I was admitted Monday. I was glad to get out of the asylum, but I was still weary to come home to my parents.
Things were still hostile at home. My room was stripped of all my electronics and things. There was no internet. All I had was my TV and my 2DS (which I had hidden before, so I got to keep it) Most of the time my parents would not even look at me, throw things at me, and tell me to go away and not be seen. I spent the most of my time in my room, sneaking playing Pokemon.
This went on for about a month. I knew that like this I wasn't going to get anywhere, I wasn't allowed out of my house, I had no contact with anyone.
So, I lied.
I told them it was over, that I had 'given up on my transgenderism'.
HAHA, Like that happens that easily. It doesn't happen at all! I can't give up on who I am.
Sad thing is.. they bought it. What buffoons. As soon as they thought they had gotten what they wanted, everything was back to normal. I got all my stuff back, the internet was turned back on.
And here I am today, typing on my computer, to the very people my parents don't want me to be typing to.
On to present day, this is what my blog will be about, I was just thinking that the backstory would help everyone understand what my current and future goals are and what this blog will be about.
I have been seeing my therapist, and he is helping me forge a plan to get out. I currently have about 4 plans to get out, all being worked on at the same time.
I am hoping to be out of my parents house by the end of this year, and on to my road to The Liberation of Faye Rose; living MY life as my TRUE SELF.
This blog will document my mission, as all my plans progress and come together, and help me get thoughts out of my head and talk to people who are interested and care. Social interaction where I can be my true self is something that keeps me going, and I greatly appreciate everyone who I have ever talked to and supported me <3
Want to help me with my plans? Have another idea of how I can get out? Want to help me get out? PM me or post here with any and all ideas, I would really, really love that :)
All my plans will be posted in their full glory in future blog posts, as this one is getting really lengthy, and it's getting really, really late for me.
Fight the good fight!
~Faye Rose~
I actually did have a blog, but when my parents discovered my transgenderism (more on this in a minute) I was unable to update it, and it kind of died out after that. That is why this blog is called 'The Liberation of Faye Rose, REBIRTH', named after my original blog in January, tagged with REBIRTH at the end signaling the second coming. (It's also a reference to a TCG I play called Cardfight!! Vanguard)
Many of you may not know about my incredibly unique and difficult situation, so I'd like to take this first blog post of mine and use it as a basis of all about who I am, what I have gone through, and what this blog will be about in the future.
First of all, my name is Faye Rose, or just Faye if you wish. I'm 19 years old living in a crappy hick town in Ohio in the United States. The fact that everyone should know about me is that I am transgendered. I love who I am on the inside, but unfortunately, my parents do not.
Let's take a trip back in time shall we? It was February 1st, 2014. February is a historically terrible month for me (I blame Valentines Day; blech), but this particular February took the cake as the most terrible February of my life.
I woke up in the morning to the sound of my mother crying hysterically. I immediately knew what it was about. I had this gut feeling. I knew, somehow she had found out. She knew I was transgendered. I didn't know how she found out, but I knew she had. I just knew it in my gut.
I was right. The night before, before heading off to work, my father looked through my laptop history, and for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to keep all my accounts logged in and keep my history completely intact, he found my PokeCommunity profile and saw all of my posts and personal conversations with people discussing my transgenderism. He left for work, then called my mother after he left to deliver the news for her to deal with when I woke up. What a coward.
My mom took my sister to school, and then went to the store. Still crying uncontrollably. When she got home, I descended the stairs to be met with a flurry of groceries being thrown at me. She yells in this terrible, raspy voice 'Why do you want to be a girl?!?!?!' Yeah, she knew.
The next 2 hours were a screaming match, my mother saying all these terrible, inaccurate things about me personally and transgendered people in general. I attempted to get in contact with my therapist, I eventually got to talk to her, and she told me to get out of my house to avoid harm. I called up a friend, not telling him the exact situation, and he took me to another friend of mines house who's mom agreed to let me stay for the weekend. I stayed there until after the Super Bowl ended on that Sunday.
Then I had to return home. I got home, and the internet was shut off. This put me over the edge, they had taken away my only contact to the people who truly cared about me, because my own family sure as hell didn't. My mom claimed that 'the internet was brainwashing me to think you're a girl.' What an idiot. The woman can hardly say a coherent sentence and she claims to know everything. Enter, screaming match part 2. At one point during the screaming, my dad backed me into a corner, hit me multiple times, and threw things at me. I eventually talked them into a corner where they had run out of stupid comebacks and reasons, so they just sent me to bed and told me 'I would be dealt with tomorrow'.
I think the funniest thing they said to me that weekend was my dad telling me that my gender identity was his decision and not mine. Yeah right, buddy. You're the self titled "Christian" man who still watches porn almost every day on my laptop and thinks I'm completely unaware of it. Get a grip.
I woke up the next day, and my parents told me to get dressed. I could hardly speak due to screaming all the night prior, so I decided to not even bother and just got dressed. They took me to the hospital emergency room.
At first it had seemed like a normal emergency room visit. Then the nurses took me into a room with 3 small units and a bathroom. The rooms were bare, only with a TV encased in thick glass. I immediately broke down. I knew what was going on. The nurses came in and talked to me. I told them I wasn't insane; Transgenderism doesn't make me insane. The nurses agreed, but I'm not sure if they were really on my side or just trying to appease me. A therapist came in and questioned me. I told her exactly the events of the previous weekend. I stayed in that room for at least 6 hours, just watching Super Bowl highlights from the game the night before.
Then my parents came in. I lunged, still steamed that they took away my only contact to the people who truly cared about me. They just looked at me, as the nurse held me back. They told me that I'd be staying in the psychiatric ward for a while, and walked out.
Yes, because I'm transgendered, my parents THREW ME INTO AN ASYLUM. Awesome, fantastic, well done guys. /sarcasm
The first night in the psychiatric ward was terrible. The entire section of the hospital was run down, the rooms were bare, only with 2 beds (not even the semi-comfy ones that you can recline, like in a normal hospital room, they were like bricks to sleep on.) and a series of shelves to keep the belongings that they didn't deem unsafe. All I was allowed to keep was my shirt I wore to the hospital. I also had some papers that the staff gave me declaring my rights in the psych. ward and such.
I was a wreck. I was in an asylum, for crying out loud. A nurse noticed I wasn't like the other patients, and talked to me. I told her all that had happened, struggling to hold back my tears. She listened intently the entire time. She told me, 'You don't belong here'. 'Gender identity isn't a mental illness.' Finally, someone who treated me like an actual human being.
I could explain my entire stay in detail, but that would take me far too long, and it's not exactly an exciting thing for me to talk about personally. The next day my therapist came in, I am still seeing him now, and he is very supportive of me, thinks my parents are crazy, and is helping me forge a plan to get out.
I talked to the doctor who presided over the ward, he also knew I wasn't mentally ill or anything, he knew I was simply a depressed transgirl, and only diagnosed me with depression. Sadly, he could not do anything to help me with my trans issue, as that requires a specialist.
After that first day, I calmed down a lot. I began to become complacent, and even made a few friends, oddly enough. Not everyone in there was completely fried at the brain, a girl that I became friends with was an alcoholic, and was put in there to avoid jail time, but she was perfectly mentally healthy as far as I could know. She just had an alcohol problem. She was the first person besides the nurses that I told I was transgendered, she was really really cool about it, and I eventually told another patient, this one a male who was bisexual. The three of us actually became kind of good friends, for lack of a better term, and became collectively known as a group among the nurses. We were definitely the three most sane there.
The girl and guy left a day before me, and then I was out of there the next day, Thursday after I was admitted Monday. I was glad to get out of the asylum, but I was still weary to come home to my parents.
Things were still hostile at home. My room was stripped of all my electronics and things. There was no internet. All I had was my TV and my 2DS (which I had hidden before, so I got to keep it) Most of the time my parents would not even look at me, throw things at me, and tell me to go away and not be seen. I spent the most of my time in my room, sneaking playing Pokemon.
This went on for about a month. I knew that like this I wasn't going to get anywhere, I wasn't allowed out of my house, I had no contact with anyone.
So, I lied.
I told them it was over, that I had 'given up on my transgenderism'.
HAHA, Like that happens that easily. It doesn't happen at all! I can't give up on who I am.
Sad thing is.. they bought it. What buffoons. As soon as they thought they had gotten what they wanted, everything was back to normal. I got all my stuff back, the internet was turned back on.
And here I am today, typing on my computer, to the very people my parents don't want me to be typing to.
On to present day, this is what my blog will be about, I was just thinking that the backstory would help everyone understand what my current and future goals are and what this blog will be about.
I have been seeing my therapist, and he is helping me forge a plan to get out. I currently have about 4 plans to get out, all being worked on at the same time.
I am hoping to be out of my parents house by the end of this year, and on to my road to The Liberation of Faye Rose; living MY life as my TRUE SELF.
This blog will document my mission, as all my plans progress and come together, and help me get thoughts out of my head and talk to people who are interested and care. Social interaction where I can be my true self is something that keeps me going, and I greatly appreciate everyone who I have ever talked to and supported me <3
Want to help me with my plans? Have another idea of how I can get out? Want to help me get out? PM me or post here with any and all ideas, I would really, really love that :)
All my plans will be posted in their full glory in future blog posts, as this one is getting really lengthy, and it's getting really, really late for me.
Fight the good fight!
~Faye Rose~
