Before I begin to make my point on this post, I want to apologize for being idle for such a long time (I'm sure most have already forgotten about this blog). Over the past few months, it's been nothing but a thinking process for me; as every day is for an pessimistic over-thinker. Not only have the last few months been a thinking process, the past few years have been a complete transformation.
I'm not sure if many of you remember, but when I first started this blog, I wrote a post called "A Split Being", basically explaining the dysphoria of my birth self and my newly-discovered identity that I had been covering for so long. I started going by a new name, and by that, I hoped to achieve a new lifestyle and perspective of things. Creating Baylor was like creating a super hero for myself to look up to because the people who "
cared" for me had some beliefs and opinions that contradicted my mind in it's natural state. When I realized that when people tell you to
always stick with your family because "blood runs thicker than water" that they weren't always right. Matter of fact, in my case, it was quite the opposite.
Ever since then, I have been on an ongoing journey of finding out who Baylor is. And since those three years have gone by, I've grown a lot from a curly, brown-headed, unknowingly-stubborn and shallow-minded kid. I learned that being different is okay and that we are all above anyone else when it comes to minding
your life; knowing yourself is the most important thing.
Growing up things were different for me. I was a little boy with a big heart and much ambition for the world. I loved nature, and that was what I was known by. It seemed like as I got older and began to read people more and register their reactions, I felt the need to be a certain way. For example, I loved pink and purple, cheer leading, and I talked much like a girl. I just wasn't like the boys that I went to school with, but I did my best to fit in and be friends with everyone. It wasn't hard to act a certain way. I guess all I really wanted to do was have "guy friends" like my brother and mother always made fun of me for
not having. In actuality, I never really liked guys because I knew that I wasn't like them. It seemed to me like the girls were the only ones who I could truly be myself with. They were never judgmental toward my "gay" way of saying things or how I walked with a strut.
By the time I was a teenager, I was rebellious in my mind. I was a rebel to everything everyone ever told me to believe, because I didn't know what to believe. My mind was telling me to believe one thing and my peers and family was telling me that it was wrong. To me, putting on make up and long hair was my favorite thing to do, I just wasn't permitted to do it. If I had ever been seen with anything considered girly or feminine, my things were taken, I was grounded, and
most commonly picked on to make me
STOP liking the things I did. "
You look gay" was my mother's way of encouraging me to be
HER way. Her husband used the Christian bible. That was his way of justifying right and wrong, and at the time, it was suitable for the beliefs that were programmed into me. Christian beliefs had me in chains up until I was about fourteen. To me it was like slowly being weaned. It was a long goodbye to something that had kept me in guilt for years. But at the end of the day, it was all a part of tasting what the real world what was like-- outside of Christianity and my family.
Around the end of my ninth grade year, I left my mother for the first time. Leaving her was easy at first, out of rage and fury with each other, but days after it began to get more difficult. I began to feel guilt for leaving her in the first place, even though she was the one who was making me leave; I did not go where she intended me to after all. I called another person to pick me up in the midst of this. Throughout the summer, it was one thing after another to guilt me back into going home. Texts intended to persuade me, encouraging me to talk, empty promises of things being better.
This was around the time I started going by a new name online: Baylor Knight. I chose this name because of a book I was writing with a couple friends of mine. My character's name was Baylor Knight (my way of making 'an individual warrior'). Needless to say, the book didn't last, but the name did. I adopted the name to myself three years ago (2012) and lived by it to change my perspective on things. Instead of doing things abiding by my mother, my family, the church, society, I chose to abide by Baylor. The point of this name was to be my true self that I had locked up inside. Baylor wasn't this lost little kid. They were a hero to me; someone to look up to and strive for.
Whenever I finally decided to go back after the summer was over [by choice] I had more going on in my head than ever before. Self harm was always a big problem with me. The pessimist side of me hated who I was and everything I was dealing with. I knew that I was not in a good place in my life, especially dealing with all of this as a teenager. I hated my mother's husband. I hated how he controlled our family, I hated how he treated my mother [to be fair, they treated each other like shit], I hated how my family never wanted to come around because of him, I hated how he constantly was picking the winning side of the arguments between my mother and I, but overall, I hated him. Honestly, I could not blame the family for not coming around much. I didn't even want to be around them. The main reason I came back in the first place was to ensure the safety of my siblings. Other than that, I had a love for my mother that was toxic.
When I left for the second time, things were a lot different. After suffering through losing my (maternal) grandfather after telling him I was gay. He was one of the few people I saw as father figure. But losing him left my grandmother on her own. By this time, I had already been wearing make up. They accepted my feminine side well, and my grandmother was very supportive toward my sexuality. Being away from my mother was what I needed to most. Even to attempt to build a relationship with her. Even though I didn't see her much, I found her much more tolerable to see for a few minutes and then say goodbye. I got along a lot better with her that way.
When it came about April of 2014, I met a super important person to me. One day when I was on MeetMe, I saw a message come from this adorable guy. My first impression was, "Holy shit, this dude is so fucking hot" with an overwhelming fear of "I will never be good enough for this person". So I started talking to him, and I felt butterflies just typing to him. Thinking of liking someone or loving someone else after my experiences in the past. For so long, I wasn't even able to catch feelings for someone without scaring myself out of ever getting close to them. The only thing important to me at the time was keeping me from killing myself. I loved to get so high that I'd forget the world for that time. It made me able to tolerate things. Talking to a new person was, of course, really difficult and nerve racking. Feeling like I texted or called too much. At first I thought that this person and I would never work out. I thought, "he lives an hour and a half away, how would that even work?". Over time, talking to my cousin was what made me break my walls and go for it. One day I had no one to talk to or hang out with. It was the weekend, so I figured, why not? I texted him and he told me he had nothing to do and to come and get him. Sure thing, I called my paternal grandmother and she agreed. After a while of riding, I got the mall that we planned to pick him up at and I walked to the store he was at. I walked in, and I saw his face in person for the first time, and right then, I smiled, he smiled, and that was the beginning of a huge story that has just begun. We got in the car, and we talked small. I was so nervous and talkative while he talked to my grandparents and talked about his family to them. They liked him and thought he was nice, and so did I. I was in the seat beside him about to piss myself. I had
more than just butterflies. These were fucking bald eagles. Then I felt my walls fall completely down as silence fell in the car, and I felt a warm hand grab mine. At this point, I melted into a puddle in the car floorboard.
After our first weekend together, we knew it was different for us. An undying and untouchable love that was immediate. It was amazing and terrifying. We planned to get together again, and
soon. We were both to the point of being inseparable. I wanted him so bad and I
needed him. The following weekend, I went to his house, and now, it wasn't just him I felt a connection with, it was the entire family. This family consisted of
EIGHT kids, and one mom. Upon arriving, I was in love with every one of the kids and their different personalities. I loved every star in every eye and the laughs. I knew from that point that this was
real.
When May 16th came, we made things official, even though we were basically already dating. I was out of school for summer, so I stayed with this new family for all of it. I spent only a few days away from him, and honestly they were my most miserable.
At the beginning of June, we all made the move to a new house. I was more than happy because I didn't have to leave him again. They basically had already accepted me as one of the kids. We shared a Mom, and it was an amazing feeling. The feeling of having a supportive family and a
Mom.
Around late July, I was beginning to get bummed out about having to go back to school and leave my new family. Seeing him every other weekend just wasn't good enough for me. I didn't want to go back. I was happy to be accepted for once and to spend time with an amazing family that loved me for who I was. The days began to roll by, the phone calls with my (maternal) grandmother that I was living with became more and more angry. I knew that my grandmother and I did not agree on everything, but I had been dealing with it for years. It was the normal for me, but having a new family showed me about what a family is really like. It showed me that siblings don't turn their back on you and leave you behind or make fun of you for being who you are. And that your Mom doesn't just insult you or disown you for being a certain way. "
FAMILY means
nobody gets left behind." I just wasn't willing to risk my mental health and turn back to that life again. I began to think of another way to turn. I decided that I would try to enroll in school online or transfer to another school to stay here. But I had to tell my birth mother in order to figure out. When I called, I got no answer for days. I finally texted her "call me" and she says, "I'm on the phone, what do you want?" and then told me that she had busy with "personal stuff" all day that she would not talk about my school stuff until I returned back home to Rockingham by
myself. She also told me that she wouldn't let me stay here so I could "run the roads" and that I had all summer to talk about school with her. This was the first time I had ever even thought about texting her really. Only because she had legal custody of me. I hated that she did have custody of me when I had left her home years ago. I went from my paternal grandparents home, to my maternal grandmother's, and I stayed there until now. The conversation basically ended with "the only time you text me is when you need something" and then "Why don't you just pretend I'm dead so you can move on with your life, ok?". I took her advice, and started thinking of alternatives. "Is it legal to leave?", I thought. I didn't know what to do.
After many rude phone calls and texts with family members, my Mom came into my room to talk to me alone after coming home from taking the kids swimming. I was showing a sad face to her, and she knew what was wrong. She knew that I hated how they treated me. I had already began to open up about my life to her. When she heard my news, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said "I want you to know that I love you so much, and I'm sorry. I also want you to know that you are
more than welcome to stay here." I hugged her and told her thank you. From then on, I began to work on getting to stay here.
The first thing I thought to do was to call my friend's mother. I had been close with this friend for years and she worked in the school system. She knew about the experiences with my mother and how I felt about her. She informed me about the "McKinney-Vento Act"that basically said any kids that are considered "unaccompanied youth" can be enrolled in school. I then went to a school here with my new family and enrolled; only for my old school to call me and tell me that I had actually already finished my high school classes, even though my liaison told me I had two classes left. (
HAHA, wow, thanks) But that was not the point. I graduated and didn't know it?! OKAY THEN. All I had left was five college classes to complete my two year degree.
After researching, I discovered that North Carolina (my home state) was one of the two states that say the age of jurisdiction is 16 (I had just turned 17) which meant that my mother couldn't make me return home even if she tried. I was ecstatic. I was
FINALLY away from it. The problem I've been trying to solve since I was 14.
When I told my paternal grandparents about this, they were excited, confused, and proud. They knew that this was something I had been struggling with for years. They knew that she was toxic to me. My next step was to get money to actually live off of, and I knew exactly how to do it.
Without essential details, I found out my mother was stealing from me, and I was now getting that money back. This was also when it was legally documented that I had NO legal guardian since my mother was incapable of doing so. This was where my mind had accepted that she and I were done for,
Now I was truly starting to embrace Baylor. I had already been going by this name for years now and all my friends and (
barely any) family called me by that name. They understood that it was to live for myself, and not for others. Every new person I had met, I never even mentioned a different birth name. As far as my concern went, I had no other name. But I realized all I had accomplished in such a small amount of time; things I never would have guessed I'd accomplish in this lifetime. I also taught myself to never limit myself. Never believe that you are stuck completely and that there is no way out. There is ALWAYS something out there, and when people tell you that you can't, say 'fuck them' and do it. The things I have done in the past few years were all 'impossible' as many said. But I realized, some things are only impossible if you believe it; anything is possible.
My paternal grandparents came to pick up the two of us to visit my grandmother that I was living with before. It was time for me to move out completely, and get all of things I had grown so attached to over the years in my room. It was difficult, and heartbreaking to watch my grandmother cry to watch me leave her. There was slight guilt, but I knew what I had to do, and I knew that it was time for me to be me. I said my goodbyes and drove away with a car full of things (she had my things already packed for me).
Since moving in here, I have grown so much more attached to my family. I have grown to let my heart be free with the love I have for my amazing partner. I stopped limiting myself to him because I felt safe. The family made me feel like Mom had given birth to me. But being the oldest kid (3 months older than my boyfriend [who is the oldest biological kid of the 8]) was kind of awesome. I was always the middle child living with my birth mother and specifically targeted because of my queerness. Now, I live in an amazing household of acceptance.
Within the first few months of the new year, I was laying in bed with my beloved and I told him something that I had been thinking about for a long time. "I think I would really enjoy wearing my long hair during the day as well. I want to express that part of myself, since I've never been able to." Of course, he tells me that he loves me unconditionally and that I should do whatever makes me the happiest, and that was when my new journey began.
I started wearing wigs during the day as a part of my femininity. I loved the idea and wanted to break out of my comfort zone that taught me that long hair was for girls, as stereotypes would say. I had worn wigs or long hair before of course, but only as a part of "drag". Through my journey, drag was a big part of me. I loved dressing up as a female and being super girly. It was entertaining and made me feel most confident. But being a Rupaul fan, I began to learn the different in who I was and a drag queen. When I started wearing wigs, I looked at myself, and I said, "this isn't a character in drag, this is me." That was where I drew a major conclusion with myself. I always wondered why I couldn't pick a "drag name". I always said that my drag was too "easy" to be drag. It wasn't drag. It was me expressing my inner female. Over the course of a few months, I began to think more and more about who I wanted to be and what made me happy. Having an entire family to support me made that a lot easier now. Having a partner who was so much like me made it even easier. He always told me that he fell in love with my heart and that everything on the outside was just an extra. And that was true for me as well. We didn't care about body parts or gender roles or anything of the sort. We cared about each and our future. I told him, "I'm just not a boy. I was born as a boy, and I've used male pronouns for a long time now, but this just isn't me. I know what I like, I know what my mind is, and I'm not looking to hide it any longer." And this was where we began to think ahead. I asked myself what I wanted to do about it; Did I want to start hormones or blockers or leave my body to do it's thing? Obviously I wanted some change in my body, but I was afraid. I have always been the type of person not to care what others think, but there is always the coward in me who tries to talk me out of things. I learned to stop doubting and just
DO it. I was tired of second guessing things.
Shortly after this, I began researching online for information. I knew that I wanted to start hormones completely. I was tired of things bothering me as far as dysphoria. I had joined groups on Facebook for transgender support, and luckily enough, there was a group for Trans* Carolina. Upon joining this group, I posted and didn't get many answers until I read other people's posts. I ran across a therapist nearby and she had a Facebook page. When I messaged her, she called me the next day and was willing to help me. I made an appointment with her, went for my session, and she wrote my letter for me. Days later, I called and made my appointment with the endocrinologist to get my prescription for estrogen. March 11th, I started hormones. And this is only the beginning to my story.
The point of this entire article is to tell any of you out there with doubts in your mind that there is
ALWAYS a light at the end of the dark road. There is not a damn thing wrong with dressing the way you want and I encourage every one of you to never limit yourself. Remember when someone tells you that you
can't, that you can do anything you set your mind to. You are never entitled to be a certain way for a certain person, and no matter who birthed you,
YOU live your life, and at the end of the day, you are the
only person you truly have to live with for the rest of your life. Be yourself and be happy for YOU. That person who tells you that you live your life wrong will
not be the one who makes the ultimate decisions in your life.
Pleased
