The day I published Disposability I went to meet a cis couple that I was going to be living with for a short time. I brought with me my girlfriend and a friend of ours. My girlfriend is definitely mentally ill, but outwardly passing as stable, in a way that my friend and I are not. I believe that we immediately terrified them.

They showed us around their house, which is very cozy, told me everything you would tell a new tenant, and immediately offered to get rid of all of their Harry Potter merchandise. They were afraid it would upset me. I honestly don't give a shit about JKR, but I have never been in a situation where a cis person cared so much about insulating me from anything that might upset me. I felt that this was clueless, but not performative. Genuine care. It really stuck with me.

The day before I was supposed to move in, I received a message from one of them detailing contact information, rules, etc. They offered to leave me alone for the duration of my stay. A significant portion of this very long message was dedicated to emphasizing their interest in my comfort. They referred to the room I would be staying in as my room.

I was so awestruck that I barely reacted. I sent them a thumbs up emoji. I did not know how to respond. Between meeting them and moving in, I had a number of conversations with my friend about how they were giving up meaningful space in their house for significantly under market value, just to prevent another trans suicide. They gave me my own bathroom.

Even in my room in my family's home, that was not my room. It was my father's room, that he so generously gave me the privilege of being able to sleep in. He held this over my head. He used to regularly tell others he wanted to kick me out, and I always ended up hearing about it. On a few occasions he told me things that equated to "I will make you homeless". He knew I was sick and crazy.

I made sure to tell him that if I was ever homeless, I would end up committing suicide after spending some time as a dopesick prostitute. He didn't seem to care. For some reason, I was still terrified that when I moved out he would do what he could to keep me trapped. I was very anxious. I felt guilty. I don't know why.

In the interest of their anonymity, I will name the woman Eva, and the man James.


I spent all of the first week thinking about the nature of abuse and escape. I’ve come to the conclusion that escaping abuse is as difficult as enduring it. Hours before I left my house, I was full of crippling feelings that left me sobbing in bed. I felt a mixed sense of love and hate for my parents that I didn’t know how to reconcile. I thought about the last meal my father cooked for me, and how I knew while eating that it would be the last time I ever ate something he cooked for me. My parents made my life horrible, they were cruel and dismissive and neglectful and abusive in almost every way. I still love them. I don’t know why. I believe that the way they hurt me is comparable to permanent disfigurement and disability, and I still felt bad for fleeing. The first thing I packed when I was getting ready to leave was my noose, and I had been up for 30 hours by the time I arrived.

When I arrived, I was greeted with a welcome card that told me I was loved. They did their best to make me feel safe, and I felt very wanted. My bed was adorned with a blanket my girlfriend and I had slept with in the past, as a surprise. I immediately was less on edge, less paranoid, and not in pain. Eva gave me a box of old clothes, and I selected out what I felt I could and would wear, mostly pants.

The rest of the week was strange. I felt safe, I felt wanted, I felt secure. I was not afraid for my safety at all, but I was still terrified. I felt guilty. I felt like I had intruded on their space, or taken advantage of them somehow. I felt that I had overplayed my abuse, or that I had made everything up. I know that this is not true, but it is still something I feel. Impostor syndrome.

I did my best to avoid them. I only ran downstairs for food or water, and then directly back to my room. They hardly saw me at all for a long time. I was terrified to speak, or be seen, or use any of their appliances. I didn’t want to do something wrong, or say the wrong thing, or make the wrong face. I do not know how to interface with humans I’m not already very familiar with.

I leaked my deadname to them with a package, almost immediately. I felt stupid for that. Eva felt bad when she asked me if I knew that person, and I told her it was me. Around this time, the feelings of guilt and intrusion escalated. I felt I was toxifying their environment by just existing in it. I craved abuse. I felt I did not deserve to occupy space in their home. Their kind treatment of me, their concern for my well being, and their willingness to let me be all made me feel horrible. I felt I did not deserve to be treated well.

Eventually, I started talking to Eva more, my girlfriend played a large part in coaxing me out of my room when she visited. They made it very clear that my girlfriend is welcome to stay there as much as she likes, and I appreciated that very much. She’s good for my head, and very stabilizing. We’ve had a lot of important conversations since I moved, and things have just been getting better and better. I missed her very much.

I like Eva a lot. We went to the store together a few times. I shared some of my thoughts and interests with her. I learned about her as well. I am no longer afraid of her. James however, I have hardly spoken to. I find men difficult. He is completely non-threatening, and I know for certain he cares about me, which I struggle to understand. I find it strange that this couple I had never met was so willing to take me into their home for basically free, and do what they could to help me get on my feet. This is an invaluable experience. I am never going to be sure how to express my gratitude.

I started waking up early in the morning. I did not crawl up from an insane, nauseating, unreal pit. I did not wake with a pounding head. I felt no shooting pains or radiating warmth in my abdomen. I stopped passing blood. I stopped pulling out clumps of hair in the shower. I stopped having nightmares. I woke up to light and birds, got water and something to eat, and spent my mornings relaxing until I felt I had woken up enough to work.

I had one anxious meltdown, to which they barely even reacted. I felt that they understood where I came from, and how I was doing, and that it was ok. I started eating consistently. I started experimenting with DIY psychiatry, with good results, thanks to a large cache of (unscheduled) prescription drugs that I have collected over time.

My healing had begun.


I went with Eva to the store twice, and we spoke a lot. I bought her starbucks. We ordered the same drink. She did not judge me for my god awful purchasing and dietary habits. I felt good. My girlfriend spent two days with me that week, and it was a very productive time for us. I think she can see the changes I am going through, and that makes me feel good. I want to be as healthy as I can for her. I want to have the strength and maturity to offer her a relationship with the intensity, speed, and methods of communication that she prefers. We seem to be perfectly matched. My life is wonderful.

I have money in the bank. I have health, vision, and dental insurance, which I will make generous use of. I have a partner who loves me as much as I love them, and is helping me how she can. I have people taking care of me that barely even know me. I am performing well at work, and we are looking to hire more, with my input. I have ascended from NEETdom to writing software that works, and hiring people to write more, in less than two months. It feels like I am dreaming. We rejected a hire in the interest of my comfort. I am so valued.

In my work meetings, my input feels invaluable. My boss and coworkers defer to me for technical decisions and opinions. My thoughts are always weighed heavily and I am never disregarded. My boss is not always the best at communicating gracefully or frequently, but I think he’s just even more autistic than I am. We are doing well as a team.

I see a happy and privileged future for all of us, somehow. I used to always think I would die alone on the street. I believed that an IV drug addiction was an inevitability for me, that I would end up trapped in a viscous cycle of abuse, sex work, and extremely risky substance abuse.

I see myself buying a house. I see myself receiving therapy, general medicine, and psychiatry. I see myself getting married. I see myself having valuable friendships, and meaningful work relationships. I see myself excelling in every way I could ask to. I have spent so much of my life believing that as a post-pubertal trans woman, I would be cursed to always occupy the lowest strata of society. That I would be sick and insane and unloved forever.

I do not believe these things anymore.


Week three was tough, but for completely refreshing reasons. Work was difficult - I had some external stressors, my debit card got skimmed somewhere and I had to deactivate it and make a trip to my bank at home to remedy the situation. My friend who took me got to meet my family, and immediately recognized it as a surreal and insane experience. They were shocked I came out as intact as I have. On that day, I got home at around 8pm and spoke to Eva and James completely nonchalantly about my struggles, and they calmly expressed sympathy and compassion. It felt strange living with people who didn’t minimize my problems.

I wasn’t able to have my girlfriend over, but I was able to visit her at her home briefly, and I got to give her some kisses and gifts, which always feels wonderful. I am reminded more every time I see her how important she is to me. I feel so much better being physically near her. I am going to marry her and pamper her in every way I can.

By this time I had still hardly spoken to James - I struggle with men - but he is a wonderful guy and I like him very much. I hope to be able to approach him and have a conversation. I know he likes dinosaurs very much. Apparently he knows about my interest in pharmacology, though I don’t believe it’s shared. I find Eva completely approachable now. She is very kind and wonderful to be around.

In the room I was staying in there was a shelf of books, which I had ignored until the end of week three. Out of boredom, one night I started reading them. I believe them to be Eva’s writings and drawings. I felt bad reading them, but I also felt you would not put someone in a room with something you didn’t want them to access for three months. One of them was dated to 1996, she had written about her dreams, her feelings and values and goals, she had drawn anime characters and ranked AMVs. She mentioned My Immortal, P!ATD, and Welcome to the NHK in one. I learned a lot about her.

By this time, I had adjusted fairly well to life without my family. Things were getting hard for new reasons, but many old struggles completely disappeared.


At the beginning of week four, I finally had a long conversation with James, all by myself. We spoke about socialism, polyamory, relationships, and the people we know. We exchanged stories, feelings, and opinions. We watched a youtube video together while I ate my dinner. This conversation dispersed any remaining fear I had. I am so thankful for them both.

Around the same time, I learned that my girlfriend and I would have an opportunity to house sit alone in her grandmother’s house for all of June. This will be the longest stay we’ve had, and additionally the longest amount of time we’ve spent alone together. I am extremely excited. I am writing this now from the comfort of her grandmother’s house on June 1st at almost 3am. My girlfriend is asleep in bed, after snuggling up to me for some time.

During the day, I was home alone and their neighbor came knocking asking for her grandparents. I explained that they were not home, and she asked who I was. I confidently grumbled to this woman with a deep voice and a face full of stubble that I am their granddaughter’s girlfriend. She was visibly and audibly confused, but did not say anything unkind. Somehow, it felt like a power move.

Her grandparents leave in the morning, and from then on it will be just us. This is by far the best my life has ever been. I smile and laugh, I feel safe, I have not had a single panic attack, traumatic episode, or intrusive thought in so long. I am not in pain. I am learning new things about myself. I am reconnecting with my oldest and dearest friends. I have my darling all to myself.

Her grandparents are flawed - but still wonderful, and it was nice to be able to see them again. I care less for her parents (specifically the father). Regardless, we have a month to ourselves now, and I am eager to see how we do together. I have a feeling it will be the best month of my life.

Below are my unedited notes from the first week.


Day 0

Escaping abuse is as hard as living with it

Sobbing in bed hours before being far away from them

I will miss them and they made my life horrible

I knew it would probably be the last time my dad cooked for me yesterday and I don't know why I cared knowing everything he's done to me

May 4th

The way he hurt me was equivalent to permanent disfigurement and disability and I still want to hug him

The first thing I packed was my noose

I was up for 30 hours by the time I arrived

Day 1

They gave me a card last night

I feel extremely welcomed

I feel a sense of safety i have never experienced before

Even in other people’s homes i have always been scared of parents or roommates

Not here

I ate so well today

People tell me I look happier and more relaxed

I am not in pain

I was given a box of clothes that is more clothes than I have boymode and girlmode combined

Day 2

I leaked my deadname with a package

I feel very guilty still

A lot of emotions are hitting now that I have settled in

It’s been hard to be as productive as i would like to be at work, but I am still getting things done

I am full of resentment for every adult that has ever been in my life

These people are treating me so well, so kind, so considerate, so welcoming

I feel like I am toxifying their environment by existing

I have been taught that I do not deserve to occupy space

I want to be abused

The guilt of existence

It feels bad

Day 3

I woke up before 7am and went downstairs to get water

The feminine half of the couple was so afraid she woke me

I hope she doesn’t think she did

I have been waking up very early on my own

I don't need to stay up past everyone else to be free anymore

I did not crawl out of an insane, nauseating, unreal pit

I woke up to birds and went to get a drink

No pain

No fear

I have not interacted with the man once

I do not know if this is on purpose or not

As far as I know they have not read Disposability or been told of its contents

My girlfriend surprised me with a visit, it was very nice

Days 4 and 5

I had a bit of an anxious meltdown and I’ve been hiding in my room

I started taking some buspirone a friend gave me and I think it’s helping my anxiety

I am starting to come out now

They have been nothing but nice to me and I like them a lot