Outcast

It was in the way she gestured with her hand "sit down with us, you're one of us." Even though I wasn't, and didn't want to be like them.

It was in the tone of voice when a family member asked me if I was democrat or republican making myself a meal in her kitchen, before saying something racist, when I told them I didn't know and wasn't registered to vote yet and they said "you are probably republican, like us, our entire family is." But that didn't sit right with my 18 year old self.

It was during the accusation that "don't you want to be married in the temple?" and "why are you acting like this"? that my dad was trying to play the blame game....because I was still an active every Sunday go-er at my local Mormon church.

It was in the lingering silence of confusion and assumption that being the outcast was always apart of me. Deep loneliness was my friend. A Borderline curse. Why didn't anyone ask me what I wanted? Why didn't anyone ask me who I was? Why didn't people set the stage and encourage me to become who and what I wanted? Why was I so easily manipulated to be the shadow of what everyone else wanted me to be?

No one cared about my opinions.

Even fewer people actually cared about me.

So I found comfort in others who were also weren't "popular", "normal", or "mainstream". I fell in love with and had deep connections with men who struggled similarly. Had dark pasts and sometimes even darker presences. They had beautiful souls. They held me when no on else would, they'd carry me through my mental health struggles that my family refuse to educate themselves on. They taught me how to love. I surrounded myself with people who were quality over quantity with no blood line.

I was often asked why I cut family out of my life, even though, those people also didn't actually want to listen to the trauma filled stories I was eager to share. Nothing that came out of my mouth made it through to them. I was the problem 20 years ago, I am still the problem now.

During one of the most physically difficult times in my life, when I was homeless, one of my dad's ex girlfriends, reached out to me. I haven't talked to her since high school when they dated. She said she wanted to let me know how much I have grown. I thought she was sending well wishes, and I wanted to give her a more realistic view of how I was doing, so I told her life hasn't been easy, against my usual bubbly, smiley face. When she replied and told me "Life is never easy, hopefully you learn to make better choices." As if she hadn't dropped in for the first time in like six years to say hello, as if she had been keeping up with me all this time, as if she knew that I was even homeless, or why/how I got here.

Just more insincerity from someone with a toxic privileged ego.

Privilege is a buzz word lately. It triggers many with diverse emotions. For me it's a call to learning, growth and humbling yourself. Privilege can be race, gender, age, religion, sexual orientation, education, job title, medical illness, etc. related. The list goes on. Being aware of your privilege is one thing, doing something to help someone else who is less privileged is another.

And this woman who told me "you'll learn to make better choices..." didn't know I didn't have any better choices. Unless she secretly knew and disproved of me having sex before marriage and how that landed me being kicked out/coerced into dropping out of BYU-I and becoming homeless. Perhaps she would think I deserved it? Who knows!

I don't fully believe people need to go through hard times to be a good person, but some people do learn differently. Some people learn the hard way, I occasionally find myself in that boat. I didn't need to try drugs or alcohol to know that they weren't for me. But I do feel that my life would have been better off had I had proper support and a loving family. Neither which I had growing up, for the record. These experiences made me who I am today, but do I believe I could have gotten here with out all the extra trauma from childhood abuse/neglect, being raped/assaulted and homelessness? Yes.

If you ask my mother when she noticed my mental health struggles, she will tell you "I always knew there was something a little off, a little wrong with Kirsten. She was our special kid with many health problems and sensitivities." From food allergies as early as two, and pneumonia that scared my lungs with chronic difficult asthma at 6 years old that still bothers me daily today at 27. I got sick regularly, mental illnesses symptoms showed at 11 years old, western medicine intervention started at 13 when my mothers' natural remedies didn't show results.

My family picked me to be the black sheep. while everyone else in my family bleached their wool regularly.

I didn't have regular or proper friends like my siblings or peers until high school. When no one came to my 9th birthday party that my family rented Star Land skating rink out for me, I decided I wouldn't celebrate anymore birthday parties in that way. I also didn't have any boyfriends or much dating experience until college. I can throw shade at the Mormon cult I was raised in, but it seemed the only people that showed interest in me when I was a teen, was the older, nerdy, creepy kid that followed me around, memorize my class schedule, to walk me in between classes and asked me to prom on a paper football he dropped in my mashed potatoes one day at lunch.

The answer was no. Obviously.

I was bullied and picked on. I'd call it "the regular amount most kids experience", but really what even is "normal" and "regular"? Hair, weight, family, religion, good grades, were all hot topics of things people regularly picked on me for.

When society is hateful, angry and sad, indeed being a good, kind genuine human is an outcast. I wasn't always a nice person, but I sure tried. I was raised to be honest and serve others, even if that meant being the only one who worked on a group project, earning everyone else a grade only I worked for. I eventually asked and was allowed to work on my own. No more free piggy back rides.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't scenario. . . Especially when "family" can go from this to... this within a month times frame.

First one-Oct 2019 Last Two May 2020

June 2020

Especially when your manipulative biological father changes the locks before your set move out date of July 31st. . . *rolls eyes* I can't in good faith leave a good review for him as landlord. His ass hole moves aren't new to me. He did this shit to my mother all through their marriage and divorce. But I'm not playing.

So many things just seem petty. I know my family doesn't like me, and they know the feeling is mutual. I understand that from the outside, that when my dad is "just trying to keep the family together" he just wants everyone in arms reach to control, manipulate and have people at his mercy and favor. He has always been one to say "family is everything", and "you'll always have your family."

No dad, I can honestly say I never have had a good family.

But it isn't just my family who has treated me (and each other) poorly. I'm still escaping cult mindset and working on reprogramming my views. I'm just not going to pretend I like my family for the sake of worldly views of a "happy family". Things have not changed as much as I would like them to, but I am actively and openly trying!

Trying to get away from this line of thinking. Trying to distance myself from damaged humans who don't want to get better. Surrounding myself with kind, merciful, loving, intelligent people who can help me get better. Help me heal! Teach me coping skills and love me in ways my family never have, never will and never could. And that is exciting to me to realize this!

Things just take time. Time I don't have to wait around hopping my family is just going to "get it".

"It" being love.

So be an outcast. Don't fit in. Stand out!