When I was little, my parents used to scare me with Meshok Papik. I was caught playing with lipstick when I was five or so, when they told me that boys don’t do this and if I continue, the Meshok Papik will come and kidnap me. I was confused and angry, as I was just doing what my mom, aunt and older sister used to do. “I’d better go with him than stay with you”, I told them
I was at a “psychiatrist’s” office and the doctor was trying to help me with my nightmares and imaginary friends. “They must save you from danger if you decide to be friends with them,” he said, locking me in a dark room. It was terrible. I only remember that I could not take my eyes off the stuffed deer head on the wall. He was looking at me from the wall and I remember his huge horns
My parents were worried not only about my mental health. When I was sixteen, my mom became concerned that I didn’t look masculine enough. She took me to the endocrinologist, who prescribed me a very aggressive course of testosterone. Trans men, for comparison, receive half the dose I was prescribed. The bruises on my ass barely healed between visits and I had difficulty sitting. It had been happening for years.
My teenage years weren’t the easiest time of my life, either. I was in my senior year when my classmate set a gang of kyarts on me, telling them that I was trans. They took me to an abandoned building, handed me scissors and said that I either cut my hair or they’d find a person to kill me.
After that incident, I somehow survived through the last 20 days of high school and graduated. The director of the lyceum listened to my complaints about threats from classmates but did not want to have anything to do with me and offered to pick up my documents. I had to defend my right to study and intimidate her with the police in order to stay and finish my studies.
#ԲազմազանությունՀԿ #DiverCityNGO #DCNGO #PlanetRomeo
