It's hard to gather my thoughts into words, even after a few days, without a million of them spilling out of me, a big mess, but I want to try:
I am a survivor of intimate partner abuse, victim to another woman, another trans person. My story is ugly, weird, complicated; everyone averts their eyes. But Absolutely Perfect Specimen doesn't look away. I cried and cried after reading it, feeling seen. That unique dynamic. Finally feeling understood, legs tangled, pretty kisses, her jagged edges cutting into you deep, hearts so full of love and pain and need you can't see it, can't face it. The little things, sweet and cruel, teaspoons of sugar masking the bitter that makes you sicker every day. The soul-splintering anguish of leaving, the weight of these memories, these scars. Doing anything to be free. APS sees me, and it sees me with kindness, with empathy, but not the pity that makes my stomach burn. With honesty, not the avoidance that makes me sick with shame -- eyes open, all of what I've been through that no one wants to see. And I didn't realize how bad I needed that.