More core, some dad
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Madison Scott-Clary
@ -51,7 +51,7 @@ Julie's friends gave her a rubber rat afterward. They had scribbled his name on
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You *would* say that.
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He had started dating well before divorcing her. I don't know if he and Maureen are married now. When I told mom, she shrugged and said that he had started dating Julie before their own divorce.
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He had started dating well before divorcing her. I don't know if he and Maurine are married now. When I told mom, she shrugged and said that he had started dating Julie before their own divorce.
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> You dovetailed relationships. You were dating Andrew well before you and Tyson fell away from each other.
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@ -9,16 +9,38 @@ weight: 29
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o
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.
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_____,,,_^..^_,,,_____
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__|____|____|____|____
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____|____|____|____|__
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</pre>
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/*
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You know this is also very Maddy, right?
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Of course it is.
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Alright, just making sure you knew that was the case.
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Honestly, at this point, would you expect anything less?
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I guess not.
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*/
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@ -9,16 +9,34 @@ weight: 33
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o
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.
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_____,,,_^..^_,,,_____
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__|____|____|____|____
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____|____|____|____|__
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</pre>
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let curr = 0
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/*
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Arrows this time?
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I like arrow symbols. There's just so much weird little things you'd never think of that someone said, "Wait, hold on, we *definitely* need that in unicode."
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Besides, some of them are pointing at me.
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*/
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80
content/core/034.md
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80
content/core/034.md
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@ -0,0 +1,80 @@
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---
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date: 2019-08-20
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weight: 34
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---
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> And so when was Madison born?
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On, September 2, 2014, I got this email:
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```
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I recently discovered your Twitter page and I wasn't sure if I should say something or not. When I saw that you are stressing out about telling me about your name change I thought I'd better 'fess up.
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I love the name "Madison". It may take me a while to get used to calling you by your new name so forgive me if I make a mistake. Madison, whatever direction your life takes you, I'll accept you, support you and love you unconditionally. Please don't stress out about my reaction.
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See you Friday.
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Hugs,
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Mom
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```
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And, two days later:
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```
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Hey Madison,
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Maybe I shouldn't have opened up to you about seeing your Twitter thingy. I felt like I was being dishonest by not saying anything but it looks like you are really, really anxious about knowing that I've seen it. Yikes!
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Are you OK with me visiting tomorrow? I'd love to see you but I don't want to add to your anxiety any more than I already have. Let me know if you have enough spoons.
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Love,
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Mom
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```
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> Did you not want her to come up?
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No, I did. I told her:
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```
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Mom,
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I'm anxious, but please come up tomorrow. I think I need that more than anything right now.
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~M
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```
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That's when I was born. September 4, 2014 at 3:18 PM. Madison Scott-Clary, 230 pounds, 73 inches.
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> You were born when you could own yourself.
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Yes. I was born when I could share that with my mom. It was all well and good for me to be out on Twitter and what not, and it was great that JD could accept me, but the fact that I could start to regain my biological family without any lies in the way was when I opened my eyes for the first time.
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> How was the visit?
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I don't know. I don't remember. I think it was fine. We talked about me starting hormones--
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> Did you talk about TIASAP?
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*No.*
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No, we did not. If she's reading this, which she may very well be, this will be how she learns about that.
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How could I possibly talk to my mom about something like that? I hid my arms and legs from her for years before, and it wouldn't be for another year before I could even bring up the concept of self-harm.
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> That's not true.
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I...well, no, it's not.
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> Let's talk about suicide.
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Not yet.
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Please.
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> Why not?
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I'd like it to be a cohesive thing. I'd like to be able to think about it on its own, none of this coming at it sideways. I'd like to be deliberate about it.
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> Soon.
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Yes, soon.
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40
content/core/035.md
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40
content/core/035.md
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---
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date: 2019-08-20
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weight: 35
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---
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Telling dad was the second time I came out to family deliberately.
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> The third.
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Third?
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> You told Aunt Patty that you were gay back before high school.
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I...did not remember that.
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> Not until just now, apparently.
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Apparently. I have no recollection of what I said. I have no recollection of what *she* said.
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I have no recollection of her.
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> Hazy images at grandma's.
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I guess.
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> Memories surrounding her.
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Lots of those.
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> Memories of when she and her family got stranded on a sailboat between Cuba and Florida and rescued by a cruise ship. Grandma and dad smug in their assessment that she was stupid and irresponsible.
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A vague, heavily pixelated picture shot by one of the cruise boat attendants.
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> "She's crazy," they said. "She has too many kids. They draw all over the walls. Her house is wild. She's crazy."
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And me, with with my secret. My little pet lie I kept hidden from them.
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> Tell me about coming out to dad.
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I will.
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62
content/core/036.md
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62
content/core/036.md
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---
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date: 2019-08-20
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weight: 36
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---
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Coming out to myself and JD was more gradual. A sea-change.
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> Maybe that's what those two years were between Matthew and Madison were.
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<div class="verse">Nothing of him that doth fade,
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but doth suffer a sea-change
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into something rich and strange.</div>
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I suppose so. I explored around the edges of it. I touched it tentatively. I lived my life in widening circles.
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> Surely you mean narrowing.
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Okay, yes. It was too good a line to pass up, though. Shakespear *and* Rilke in one go?
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> There is nothing new under the sun.
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Ooh, and Ecclasiastes, you spoil me.
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> Treat, as they say, yourself. Carry on.
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There were little fits and starts between James and I. I remember laying on the couch --- that awful, awful yellow couch --- and him getting playful, and then some little movement of his touched a nerve and I started crying because of the way that brushed up against that me that wasn't in focus. It brought it to the forefront the fact that I didn't align with myself, that there was a lag in my proprioception, that I was falling behind myself.
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Is there some word for ecstasy that doesn't imply it being positive? Something that captures the feeling of being outside oneself, beside oneself, behind oneself without implying the sense of greatness, of awe that goes along with spiritual *ekstasis*?
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> Dissociation?
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Yeah.
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That.
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That little bit of panic-colored dissociation that I would later name dysphoria would come in waves. Sometimes it'd be triggered, as it was then. Sometimes it would fade slowly into view and I'd go on a tear making skirts and then it would fade back into the low background static of the anxiet that goes along with being a member of a minority identity group.
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> There **was** ecstasy, though. There was euphoria as well as dysphoria.
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Yes.
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The moment when my hair got long enough to put up in a ponytail.
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The utter terror of shaving my legs for the first time, weird as it sounds. Outrageously stupid, and yet the feeling of *having* shaved legs was incredibly validating.
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The first time I looked in the mirror and saw the trace of femininity.
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The softening of skin.
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The first "she" on the street.
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The first "ma'am" on the phone.
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Hell, the first time dressing feminine.
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> What, back when you were nine? When you snuck into the spare room and tried on one of Julie's dresses?
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Holy *shit* could you just *shut up*.
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> Wow, touched a nerve, there.
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We will talk about that later.
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