Midlandness Quietish

Some sexualities on the asexual spectrum explained with pies, happy asexual day for us! 🍰💜 (Posting again because of a translation error, sorry)

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Just went to my home town and this was the youth centre. No wonder why all my friends transitioned when it was so propagandized(extra blurs to avoid doxxing)

with all of the debate about whether or not being forced to go through a puberty incongruent with your internalized self is worthy of being compared to rape or not, i’d like to share a poem i wrote after having just turned 17. . . . for context, i had to fight so hard to be allowed to exist as a woman. i was sexually assaulted by a cop tasked with strip searching me at the short term facility just a few months prior to when i wrote this poem at the long term facility i was sent to after. i was 16 at the time of the following events, just about to turn 17. i spent 1 week at the short term facility i was kept in prior to being sent to a long term 1. when i first arrived, i was immediately left alone with a cop who rubbed his erect penis on me while he groped me and rubbed his hands under the underwire of my bra. they then threw me in solitary confinement for 3 days. there was no toilet, they forgot to feed me, it was made of puke green painted concrete with the only thing breaking up the putrid bilious uniformity were the words, “kill me” written in dried blood on the floor and a speaker 15 feet up in 1 corner of the room where they made fun of me and misgendered me and deadnamed me. when i was finally let out, they stuck me at a desk in between the girl’s side of the room and the boy’s side, as they argued i’m not a girl but actively denied my boyhood, so i would simply exist on the line they drew between each side. they forced me to write sentences over and over again copying lines of brainwashing text about how i would not misbehave anymore and how i deserved my suffering and if i looked left or right at the noise from each side happening around me and not at the wall directly in front of me they would yell at me. i have dysgraphia, my hands would hurt so much but if i stopped they yelled at me too. eventually 1 of the staff members took pity on me and let me go to the library to bring back somw books to the desk i literally was forced to sleep at instead of a bed. i read the pearl, flowers for algernon, a connecticut yankee in king arthur’s court, and one flew over the cukoo’s nest without letting myself sleep for 3 days because i didn’t want to sleep they kept assaulting me and trying to steal my escape from them - my books. when i finally collapsed from exhaustion i awoke to the books gone. to this day i don’t understand why they were all so mean to me and dehumanizing to me. it gives me nightmares to this day. when i wrote this poem, i had just turned 17. i had been on estrogen for ~2 years or so and after arriving at the long term facility they jumped at the opportunity to cut off my estrogen and force me to continue going thru a male puberty. i ended up having my mom send me the estrogen that i stuffed in a bottle of biotin and had the morons running the place administering it to me without their knowledge, but i suffered without estrogen for 5 months or so. this poem is an artefact from the beginning of those 5 months. take what conclusions you will knowing all of this about being forced with no option but to bear witness to your body betraying your existence and how it compares to being forced by another human to be fucked against your own wishes with no option but to bear witness to your assailent robbing you over any agency you deserve to have over your own body.