throughout life, we are inundated with ideas, often cisheteronormative, patriarchal, ableist, and adherent to the brutal nature of capitalism, of what it means to be a “successful” person. finish public school. go to college. buy a car. get a 9-to-5 job with a 401k or other retirement plan (although nowadays we have to have multiple side hustles and commodify our hobbies). date, fall in love with another person, and marry. buy a home and fill it with expensive products. have children, start a family. start a business. invest. retire. die.

by these metrics, i’m a failure. however, i’ve learned to be ok with that, and continue to remind myself to feel ok each time the critical voices implanted in my mind since childhood creep in when anxiety knocks and opens the door. what does it mean to succeed when climbing the ladder means to step on others?

at the time of writing this, i’m in my early thirties. i have a bachelor of arts degree in english with honors, but the job market is so oversaturated that i cannot find work that utilizes my education. i tell myself that it’s ok. it’s hard to find work unless you are plugged into a robust network with professionals who can vouch for you—linkedin isn’t really my jam either. it was difficult to justify my earnings while falling victim to the nonprofit industrial complex (npic), where i, like many others, are sold the idea that our work helps others or society and makes a difference. to a marginal degree, it can, and i speak from my own experiences on both ends of nonprofit services, but ultimately, nothing changes in the grand scheme of things.

nonprofits, along with corporate-approved charity, are band-aid solutions to the crises manufactured, top-down, by empire. i tapped out and have abandoned the hope that a white-collar career would sustain me, or, more importantly, fulfill me. many people who i have confided in tell me that i’m an idealist, but i wonder if they are masochists of some sort who ascribe themselves the title realist or pragmatist—but the reality is not only are we oppressed but we are pit against one another and the practical thing to do would be to re-examine, and rebuild, the structures of our society, our cultural values, and how we relate to one another, especially in times of conflict, globally, nationally, and interpersonally.

now, i work in construction, or really wherever i can find work that utilizes hands-on skills and mechanical aptitude, new skills i picked up to adapt. often, i am not my “authentic self” out of a need to survive in a work environment hostile to queer and trans folks, especially of color. even in this particular field, it can be hard to find a job, especially in the off-seasons. i reassure myself by saying it’s not about the money (although it’s necessary for me to live as things currently are)—it’s about the skills and knowledge i acquire that i can apply toward serving community when the need(s) arise.

i’m not close with my family, as much as i would like to be. i do my best to maintain my relationship with them, but our values appear to be diametrically opposed. i grew up in a high demand religious environment where subservience was and is enforced through various means of control (family and community pressure, psychological, spiritual, etc.). the abuse trickled down from the church down to the family, and i knew i needed to leave both environments perpetuating abuses, whether individuals of these institutions were conscious or not.

i wonder if the children in my family look at me with curiosity for not fitting the mold their parents and elders around them have been cast into. when they see me, who they are told to refer to as uncle, i am often clean-shaven and wear my hair long, which they are told only women do. when they are scolded, as is the typical disciplinary programming many parents in my community are indoctrinated with, i go to them and ask what happened, listen, affirm their feelings, co-regulate, and try to collaborate on how to move forward from the heavy emotions. even if i may not be on the best terms with my siblings, mother, and elders in my family, i always want to be there for the children because these cycles will inevitably continue until someone makes the deliberate effort to break them. whether they ever decide to break the mold they are placed in, and especially if they do, i hope they know that i am always there for them.

in the psychologically and emotionally raw state i found myself in after leaving the church and becoming estranged from my family during my mid-20s (we would not reconnect later until the death of my older sister), i met a woman who was close to a decade older than me and had a child out of wedlock. it wasn’t years later until i found myself in more queer environments and learned about the lesbian concept of “u-hauling.” turns out, i did that within three months and had a child.

at this time, i had already been doing the work, regularly going to therapy and educating myself, not just reading self-help books but also uncovering the roots of my traumas (personal, family, community, etc.). unfortunately, i had yet to make breakthroughs with my interpersonal challenges. i engaged in this relationship out of a feeling of being chosen (my ex literally would tell me how i am special and that she chose me, which felt good for my traumatized brain who was neglected and abandoned). as the youngest in my family and in the church i grew up in, where hierarchy and power are enforced, i learned to people please, to fawn, and to shrink myself out of survival. i did not know how to communicate needs and boundaries, and i had low self-esteem—not being aware of my autism and ADHD exacerbated conflicts. this resulted in a relationship full of resentment on both ends.

after our child was born, things got worse. there were always disagreements, and, unfortunately, psychological and emotional abuse where i was subject to remarks aimed to put me down and keep me in control. i did everything i could to try to negotiate and identify solutions to problems, but nothing was ever good enough—i always needed to be punished, one way or another. this went on until our family eventually moved to a city where my ex had family, an established community, and network of support, and where i knew no one.

i knew these were not adequate conditions to raise a child in, so i initiated a separation with the understanding that my ex and i would work together to raise our child. she was not happy, and threatened to self-harm and cause property destruction. she asked how i could do something like that (advocate for myself) and let her raise our child on her own. i replied that we would both raise her, just not together as a couple. eventually, she unilaterally decided our child would only live with her out of spite, and i had no other choice but to seek legal counsel.

life works in interesting ways because this was the start of a new chapter in my life filled with self-discoveries, pleasures, and fulfillment, even amid all of the hardships and struggles. i’ve learned that sometimes we are plunged to extreme depths in life and of our soul to gain perspectives we might not have otherwise been exposed to, or to push us in directions counter to our programming. in my case, moving to a new city where i did not know a soul and hitting rock bottom encouraged me to find my queer and trans self, join and build community spaces that reflected my values, and define my purpose.

there have been a lot of ups and downs, but as of lately, i have not seen or heard from my child, and my heart either warms at our fond memories of reading books together and being out in nature, or it shatters at the thought of our calculated separation. i have read about and heard how situations like these break a person, understandably so, but i’ve always wondered about situations like these involving two people who are involved in “movement spaces.” what do abolitionists do in situations like these? i wish there were other stories like this i could turn to for some insight, or hope even, but maybe i’m supposed to be one of these testimonies. one of these days i plan to write more on the intersections of family (i still need to do research and, perhaps, process the things i’m living) and law, especially from the perspective of a queer and trans person of color.

pre-separation, i was filled with anger and resentment at how i had been treated. while I won’t get into the nitty, gritty details and do not justify the harms experienced by either party, i recognize this is the manifestation of unprocessed and unhealed intergenerational traumas colliding. separating helped give me the space i needed to breathe, feel safe, and gain clearer perspectives. a person who felt they could never be wrong and a person who felt they were always wrong were destined to be together. that is until one person or both people change.

i learned that i can feel empathy for the conditions and events that resulted in a person’s behavioral temperaments and feel rage at the injustices. i could publicly call out this person, a high profile figure, who has demonstrated bad character, but i learned that is an uphill battle, especially when there are clear differences of power (such as wealth, gender, and status). for now, i can only hope she heals the part of herself preventing us to meaningfully connect in good faith, especially for the sake of our child, and to keep focusing on building and sustaining community that encourages and practices safety, autonomy, healthy direct communication, conflict repair, and care—in the tragic event i might not be able to ever see our child, i will have at least labored to build a village, or even network of villages, i can leave behind for her, and for the other youth, in my family, in the communities, and, hopefully, in society, when i am gone.

i’m ok with being a failure as a citizen of an empire that enforces destructive hierarchies at all levels, from large-scale society destroying our world to individual family units traumatizing children, because i embrace the role of a divergent seeking (and experimenting and failing) alternate routes to living together, that promote harmony and emphasize careful considerations of our connections—to ourselves, to each other, and to all of the natural and spiritual world around us.

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