Different elements of this post may be triggering, I guess, so here's your warning. It could be triggering for anything. There are mentions of abuse, rape, self-harm, eating disorder and drug use.

I want to write about my development, really because I just feel like talking about myself but also to have it on record or for anyone who's curious, I suppose.

My mom is the youngest of her brood, with all sisters. She has a very deep-seated jealousy of them and also holds herself above them in a passive aggressive way. She's a huge martyr. Watching all of my aunts go through destructive relationships (personality disorder is rampant in my family) inspired my mom to stay single for life. They all had tons of kids though, and my mom decided she wanted a kid, too. I think she did it to prove she could do it without going through what her sisters did. So she went to a sperm bank, got artificially inseminated and 8 months later I was born. I was a troublesome pregnancy. My mom once thought I'd died, because she woke up in a pool of blood. I came out with the chord wrapped around my neck, so I wasn't crying and my head was purple. It was a strenuous labor of 40 hours. My grandmother was the first person to hold me. She had been going through a deep depression after the death of her third husband (not my grandfather) some odd months earlier, and when she held me, my mom said she could feel that sadness begin to fade. I was always my grandma's favorite because of this. I wish I'd been more aware of how special I was to her before she died.

I sometimes think my mom did something to change my gender in the womb. She wanted a boy, and I am for all intents and purposes a boy, but I have always felt like I'm supposed to be a girl. I'm not transgender, or at least I'm not interested in identifying as a woman or getting surgery or anything, but I've always related better to girls and preferred girl things. I am the only boy who's been constant in my life, however, so that could just be an adaptation.

My mom had a name I really liked picked out for me, but my aunt (who my mom has a covert jealousy for) told her it was a stupid name (Kiernan) so my mom changed it to something my aunt liked.

My mom and I lived in an apartment by ourselves for a while until my cousin moved in (he was like early twenties). He really adored me, but my mom tells me I just had that effect on people. Everyone loved me. I don't see that cousin much anymore, but when I saw him at my grandmother's funeral last month, I could feel a special effort from him to reach out to me.

When I was two, my mother and I moved to the metro-area that we live in now. We moved into a very quaint neighborhood where I eventually made friends, and this is also when we began housing my grandmother. In accordance with the hysterical pattern, I made "best friends" with a boy who was a few years my junior. He had an older brother who I wanted to be friends with, but I feel like the things he did for fun were too complicated for me to enjoy. He was a year or two older than me.

When I was 5, my babysitter's oldest son molested me at least twice. Once in my home and once somewhere else. The time that wasn't at my house, I was molested along with my best friend from church (my family is "devout" baptist). My babysitter ran kind of a childminding service for families at out church, and I can name at least three people (including myself) that I'm sure he molested.

My best friend told his parents what had happened to us. When asked to confirm or deny, I denied it. I knew it had happened, but either I didn't want to displease my mom (I probably thought that would make her mad) or I thought that was normal behavior between males, due to my not having any male role models, so I denied it.

-Ending part 1 there bc I'm restless-