Why couldn’t I have been the perfect straight Mormon girl my dad wanted? That would’ve not bothered anyone. Not stirred up any weird questions. Not have made them my mental health. I know he loves me but it feels like he doesn’t. I’m a pan-ace (maybe poly) trans guy druidist. And he talks about me behind my back all the time. I just ran into one of his conversations. I left quickly because I knew what they were talking about as soon as they stopped talking when I showed up. I’m not a fucking idiot. It’s like I’m some curse put on this household after my mom had her psychotic break. I’m not what he wants, I’m crazy, need God, and I wear costumes for clothes so that makes me more insane apparently. I wish I could’ve been normal. Why couldn’t I have been his “sweet small daughter singing church songs”. It kills me. Why’d I have to make such a ruckus in my life in my identity. I feel like such a failure. I can’t trust him at all it feels because he’ll just judge and try to change me. Iwtbn