God Hates Tomatoes
An alter’s plea to his parents:

If this gets more than 10 notes, I’ll send my dad a similar message by e-mail.

As an alter, I have memories dating back to when I was a toddler. I love my parents, but I have rarely had an opportunity to communicate with them directly. Even then, I have only felt safe impersonating my host, Kat, who was the dominant alter for many years growing up. We’re in our last semester of high school now. This may be my last good chance to reach out to my parents. I know that I risk rejection in writing this, but it’s a chance I feel I have to take.

  • I am not Kat.
  • I don’t really like psychology.
  • I only use psychology to argue.
  • And I hold my own.
  • I am a boy.
  • I enjoy writing, even though it’s really freakin hard.
  • I want to write horror stories.
  • I can’t tolerate caffeine, but I’m cripplingly addicted to coffee.
  • I self-medicate with English breakfast tea.
  • I tend to overeat.
  • I love meat.
  • I really, really hate pasta.
  • I love those firm workouts, even though they’re meant for women.
  • I wish I had more time to myself.
  • I’m a big fan of British television.
  • I have no favorite movie.
  • However, “Jekyll” is my favorite show.
  • I’m a Baptist, albeit a struggling one.
  • I want to wear men’s clothing.
  • I’m not attracted to men.
  • I like women.
  • But I’ve taken a personal vow of celibacy.
  • I want to be a foster dad.
  • I could never transition, because of my siblings.
  • People tell me I have PTSD.
  • I think they might be right.
  • I never cry, unless I’m triggered.
  • I don’t mean to be so angry.
  • I really don’t want to talk about it.
  • I still think birth control is a good idea.
  • I’m taking it to suppress my period.
  • I know the risks, and I’m willing to live with them.
  • Mom, I’m afraid to talk to you because I feel you won’t believe that I exist.
  • Dad, I hope that you hear me and take me seriously.
  • I don’t want to hurt anybody.

My name is Jordan. I exist. I am an individual who loves you deeply. I want you to know me for who I am. Please accept me.

I am not your daughter. I am one of your sons.

  1. godhatestomatoes posted this