On Grief, Love, and Demisexuality

Taken from: my family’s Facebook photo collection. (Due to my desire to remain mostly anonymous, I can’t provide a link).

[Description: the central focus is on a baby grand piano covered in sheet music with a kitchen chair pulled up in front of it. The image is located within a large living room with various pieces of furniture, books, bags, and knick knacks that don’t matter to this blog.]

“We’ve always been a singing family, it came naturally. Our parents sang to us and some of us were singing tunes at just a year or so old.” – Grandma

On December 10th, 2015, my paternal grandma passed away at the age of 91.

She is survived by her husband, also 91, four children, seven grandchildren, and about 9 great grandchildren.

And I am one of her grandchildren. The youngest of my generation, the only queer and trans (to my knowledge), and until the great grandchildren were born, the only disabled from birth and mixed race kids in this line of the family.

I can’t describe how I experience my grief beyond ambivalence. On one hand, I feel sorrow about how I can no longer see or hear her actively again. On another, I’m one step closer to being free to not care about being me in front of the family.

Why I Feel Ambivalent Towards “Love Yourself”

Taken from: http://www.deviantart.com/art/No-One-Mourns-the-Wicked-419431348

[Description: Two figures, one with green skin and black hair, and the other with pale skin that is almost blue with platinum blonde hair touch foreheads with their eyes closed and hands intertwined. Between their hands is a light. The caption under them says, “No One Mourns the Wicked”. This is all on a black background with the artist’s signature in the bottom right corner.]

I’ve always been a fat child. I was born with a physical disability and inherited a couple genetic mutations from my father in the form of “deformed” fingernails. I was in a car accident as a small child which left a visible scar above my right eye. My body was operated on as an infant non-consensually in order to, “correct” my physical disability (it didn’t work and left behind tons of trauma).