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awakening, education, gender variant, health, trans issues, Uncategorized

The Losses And Pain

Self-acceptance

 

The latest move towards Transing our youth, making them believe that every wrong they feel they have is fixed by modern medicine and being placed in a box that they don’t and should not be in, needs to stop right now before it’s too late. Science projects are great when we send a man to the moon or discover a cure for an illness, but this “gender dysphoria” “fix” is no fix at all, in fact it’s the beginning of the end of our species and life as we know it. Do we have any idea what we are doing to humans? If we sat down and really thought of what is happening here we would find ourselves in horror.

 

There is way too much to lose in the process that may appear at the time as a gain. The loss of this precious time in life which at the moment may seem as a disaster to those of us going through it, yet, the body relies  on these signals and changes that take place during our pubescent years, this cannot and should not be erased all because our children think they were born in the wrong body. Puberty blockers and cross sex hormone in our young is a disastrous idea which ever way you slice it.

 

Parents that think they are doing right by their gender variant children whom appear to be suffering when they don’t get their way, need to stop and think that children are not able to make these types of decisions. As an Occupational Therapist who studied child psychology and worked with many disabled children, I can tell you that they don’t have a clue regarding such important matters. Just because Jaron wanted to be like his sister and saw her as his idol, did not mean, he was born a girl. But the need for the parent to have the perfect scenario, two girls and two boys, led the disaster to unfold. Parents need to look at the core pain at the main root in this dilemma of gender. Your child’s body is fine, it’s their heart and mind that needs love and proper attention.

 

What about adults, these full fledged middle aged men and women who on a whim decide they are tired of being men or women and want to take a crack at womanhood/manhood. Many have feminine attributes have been demasculinized, and find their life is not at all what they want it to be, or as women are tired of being second class citizens, labeled as lesbians, so switcharoon, I am now a woman/man they claim and the false self takes over their world. They are taking the life of the one person that is loved and needed by so many in their life. Not for one moment do they care to see the tornadic activity they’ve left behind.

 

Someone needs to put a stop to this madness, it is not helping or solving anything at all, except an instant gratification of the Id, and the super ego is running rapid. The false self is created due to core pain based on trauma that we go through during our childhood days. Here is our show where we talk about why the false self is developed and what can be done to properly deal with it.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_YVIA5_904

 

I wanted to share Lynna’s words and feelings, to show what goes on in the heart of the real person fighting their false self, there comes a time when that inner voice the real you shows a glimpse of their pain:

 

“You wanna know something? Never does a day go by when I am do not find myself thinking about my kids. It may be while Mark and I are running errands and I see a young mommy with her two little toddlers or as I sit at home and decide to take a look at my oldest son’s Twitter feed. The bottom line is that I miss them. If there is anything that I do regret more than anything else it is the loss of my five precious and dear children.

The last time that I spoke to them was several months ago and since then, I have not been able, except for my oldest son occasionally and randomly texting me, I miss my kids. There is nothing that can ever replace the void that I now have in my heart because I am now but a stranger to them.

So many of us get so caught up in the machinations of what transitioning will bring to us. How “happy” we will be is what we are told by our newfound cheerleaders and only because we give rise to their illusions of a life they they themselves want to so desperately make a reality for them too.

With every single selfie that I posted and YouTube vlog video that I made, these new “friends” were telling me how happy they were to see me finally be “free” and to accepting myself as the person that I was always meant to be.

It’s interesting that not one time did any of my gender therapists (and I had a few) ever make mention to the utter pain and destruction that I was going to cause to my family. They did not really care about that at all, they did not feel as if that was even a factor. As far as they were concerned, their patient was dealing with GD and they needed to “help” their patient to transition smoothly.

Come to think of it, all that they did was to feed my desire to transition, they never once asked to meet with my then spouse and have an honest an open conversation about what this decision of mine was going to affect everyone else around me. No, they just further encouraged me to continue on my path and to forfeit everything and everyone because I “deserved” to be “happy” and live for me.

Why does anyone need a narcissism grief counselor? What purpose does that serve anyone who is already struggling with their self-worth to be encouraged to run away from their problems and bury themselves in the creation and life of this new false self?

While I do say that transitioning has proven to be a way for me to open my heart to becoming more aware of who I am and the potential to become a better person, I did not originally want to transition to realize that. I was demasculinized for years before that. In critical moments of my life, moments that were supposed to build me up as a man, I was inflicted with daggers that pierced my heart and really cut at my soul.

I was a chubby little boy growing up and my sis used to remind me of that fact. I ate too much (hey, I had a Puerto Rican mom), need I say more) and I was raised as an only child and I was the baby of the family. My only sister was eight years older than me, needless to say, when I came into the world, jealousy ensued. My earliest recollection of her was her telling me that mom and dad had found me in a trash bin and decided to raise me as their child because they simply felt sorry for me. As I grew up, I felt out of place, both in my body and within my family. I lived with the fear that perhaps I was adopted, would I ever know?

As I got older, I felt like my dad did not let me claim me as his first born boy. I felt that he already had a son and that person was my sister. So I felt out of place and totally did not belong. I could not speak Spanish very well because although we spoke it at home, I spoke English everywhere else. My family made fun of my bad Spanish too and it was so embarrassing. I had a dark complexion but I had a bad grip of my parent’s native language. That further cast me out of feeling normal. Who was I anyway?

I had cross-gender feelings for as long as I could remember and looking back to why that was so, well, I was never really encouraged to be a man by the main person who is supposed to influence their son, my dad. My dad was a larger than life typical, loud, macho, independent and humorous man. He would assert his male privilege and everyone knew that he was definitely an alpha. His only boy??? Not so much. I wonder sometimes if he was ashamed of the son that he ended up with? I know that maybe he did not want me to feel that way but regardless, that is exactly how I felt.

I was soft, I was sensitive, I was easily hurt and many a time I was reminded about how non-male that my behavior was. One particular uncle of mine reminded me of that throughout my childhood and far into my 30’s. Uncle Joe was a man’s man and my dad really liked the way that he had chosen to live his life. He followed in my dad’s footsteps and became a construction foreman and a part-time real estate salesman. Just like my dad. I cannot tell you how many times my dad would remind just how proud he was of my older sister and my uncle, why couldn’t I be more like them?

It was the fall of 2005, my dad had been dealing with his cancer again after having gone into remission after his operation back in late 2002. My sister called me and I was working a baseball game in Minnesota. She told me that it was time, he was not going to be with us very much longer. I immediately told my producer and they quickly found another camera op to take over my position and I was off to California to be with my dad.

I stood by him for the next three weeks as he slipped away into eternity. It was a painful but a beautiful and rich experience at the same time. My dad was dying and I was able to be with him as he drifted away. After the third week of being there, I was offered some freelance work and I struggled with leaving my dad’s side but my mom told me that he would rather that I be responsible for my family than to wait around with him. “This is what your father would want you to do, he does not want you to feel sorry for him”, she whispered to me.

So I kissed his abnormally cold forehead and left for the day. At around five that evening, my sister called me and told me that I needed to rush home, because she felt as if the moment was arriving. I left what I was doing and made it to my mom and dad’s home by eight that night. It was too late though, I knew that the time had come. He was gone. My papi was not with me anymore.

I parked my car in my parent’s driveway and made my way to the door where family members embraced me and told me to be strong. I walked into the house and down the hallway to my parent’s bedroom. Upon walking through the door, my knees buckled and I had to grab on to the door frame to keep from falling. My mom was there holding my dad’s hand, my sister was there too, along with my uncle Joe.

The first words I heard were these, “Paul, your dad knew that you could not handle seeing him die, he knew that you were not strong enough to deal with it, so he had to go while you and Lilly were away.” I was devastated, that was single-handedly the worst blow to me as a man, I was destroyed inside upon hearing those words. There is nothing that has contributed to demasculinizing me more than the words that I heard that day. Imagine, me, my dad’s junior was told that I was not man enough to handle my dad’s passing? It blew my world apart, who was I?

to be continued”.

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Its a tough life for us all, but destroying yourself because we can’t take the pain, solves nothing. I know many in this community do not see it as destruction, but instead see it as a rebirth of sorts. I wanted to say, don’t be fooled because even the face of evil appears to have light.

Till next time

MAC

 

 

 

 

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About Mark Angelo Cummings

Maritza/Mark is walking the path of healing, she/he is a broadcaster, musician, writer, and educator. As a Certified Nutritional Consultant, Master Personal Trainer and Occupational Therapist, she/he has taken wellness one step further. Check out our website http://www.gypsybluenomads.com/ Follow our journey: The Travels of 2 Truth Seeker and Their Car. Check out our live Programing Tues & Thurs @ 6 PM MT on RealTalk With The Cummings https://www.youtube.com/c/GypsyBlueNomads

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