My Father...

Trans women and daddy issues, right? Anyway...

My father always had anger issues when I was growing up. He broke things, yelled, screamed, etc. He was always the toxic type of guy who thinks crying is for women and would often make fun of pre-transition me for crying too much (though with things like death, and even when I read Where the Red Fern Grows, he understood my crying and was supportive); he'd call me a "pussy," or a "Nancy boy," etc.

Anyway, all that aside... in June of 2020, I went to a protest for Black Lives Matter. My father was not very supportive of the movement, to say the least. He would make dumb jokes about how I, "better not come home with a new TV," and shit like that. He really didn't like that I went to this protest.

July rolled around, and one night he got drunk. He had just made himself some eggs and toast, and was seated at the kitchen table with his meal and his [not first] glass of whiskey. He started saying how I was racist for supporting the Black Lives Matter movement, which is... a really dumb thing to think. And then he said something really, really disgusting.

"If you want, I'll drop you off in Harlem with a sign that says, 'Black Lives Matter,' and when five [N-word, plural] rape you, will you still say, 'Black Lives Matter'?"

I called him a douchebag after that, and he got up from the table, rushed toward me and pinned me to my bedroom door. He shouted in my face, but I honestly can't even remember what he was saying. I just remember the bits of egg and spit hitting me as he shouted. Then he grabbed me, pushed me into my bedroom, and shoved me onto my bed. He pinned me down, wrapped his left hand around my throat, started choking me, and clenched his right hand in a fist above me. The next day he confirmed, while sober, that he wanted to break my nose, but decided against it. Instead, he spat in my face.

So... yeah. That's pretty much it. Not much else to it.

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My Father... and Why I Don't Talk to Him