It took me a long time to just start to get over the shame—of looking in the mirror and seeing a fucking creep. Of being ashamed of how uncomfortable I made them without realizing. I think I’m back to square one, here. I literally stopped identifying as a trans woman because it felt like such a joke after what happened with them—it’s hard to discern any difference between me and a straight cis dude
Calling me creepy/stalkerish is kind of out of line. I miss them horribly, I try from time to time to reach out to them—I don’t go to their house and dig through their trash. I don’t even ask our mutual friends what they’re up to. I try my best to not make them uncomfortable. I won’t even go places where they might bump into me.
“Creepy” implies that you think I might assault them, which really fucking hurts.
I don’t know why I bother making this post. It’s an uphill battle. But whatever.
Basically the only thing I ever did wrong is really, really miss them. I lost them because of mistakes and misunderstandings and my own stupidity, and I’d give anything to have them back, and that’s “creepy” and “stalkerish.”
They were the coolest person I’ve ever met, and I haven’t met a single person since who comes even close. Everyone else is so disinteresting—I’m supposed to shrug and go “Oh well” and find someone else. They’re the only person I’ve ever cried over and the only person who makes me smile when I think of them—and that’s just a figment of my imagination.
How do you think it affects my mental health when I get called creepy and insane if I dare talk to anyone other than a therapist about this?
