“I’m sick of the fact that my story isn’t unexpected. It isn’t confusing or weird. It isn’t horrifying. It’s just what happens to people like me and thats completely normal.”
I have spent a few days now wondering where to begin with this piece. Too often our timelines are plagued with traumatic headlines and images. During the George Floyd online outcry and uproar in 2020 I remember reading articles detailing why ‘publicising black trauma is not activism’ among other titles. Imploring for humanity from the readers. To respect human dignity in such horrifically vulnerable and human moments. Arguments can be made in support of spreading such images. Forcing the consumer to be affronted with what they are so eager to dismiss. This particularly springs to mind when considering the current climate of the world. A genocide that big companies are sick of you talking about. I see the gravity of both arguments and feel ashamed to say I agree with both. I hate to sit on the fence but I think treating scenarios ideographically gives us the best idea of how to move forward. Listening to those most effected. Growing up in this world I have learnt more than anything to listen. Listen to those taking an entirely different path to you, listen to those you claim to be advocating for, listen to the voices that get carried in the wind simply begging to be heard. Most recently I have been listening to Angel. My Angel of light whom I found with crumpled wings from landing on the harsh concrete of a world she wasn’t made for. After reading some of my ‘articles’ she asked me to share her story. I intend to do that to the best of my ability.
I warn readers that the following topics may be distressing or triggering, but I also remind readers that unlike a tab you’re able to exit, this is Angel’s reality. There is no little Red Cross in the corner of her screen. This is her every waking moment.
“i'm hurting and it's not my pain to bear. I want them to know what they've done to us how much they ruin our lives. I'm not sure how long I can be here for and I want to at least improve the lives of my sisters”
Angel, 19.
19 years on earth have managed to compile some of the worst experiences one can undergo and has thrown them in the path of one teenage girl.
- I would like to note the horrifying reality is that these experiences are not unique and are burdened upon many of our beautiful people the earth is lucky to know. But that does not undermine the vile intentions some among us harbour and the veil of wilful ignorance many more of us don. Angel’s story is her’s and hers alone, but that does not mean there aren’t thousands more Angels out there.
Being Angel’s friend is a privilege. And it is petrifying. I often wake up to find 3am messages on my phone from the frightened girl on the other side. In my mind I can see her. Clutching her tin can phone, willing the person on the other end of the string to rescue her. The characters on my screen spell out horrors she has endured. On occasion I will grow sick with worry. Something as arbitrary as taking slightly longer than usual to reply acts as all evidence I need to believe she has suffered for the last time.
“Some f*cking building contractor should not be allowed to have me in an alley then leave me there to clean myself up and walk back to where I'm staying just cus I'm some f*cking tr*nny”
Angel has uttered such harrowing moments to me. Her world so different to my own, polarised in the sober light of day as I sit in my university lecture, replying to her recounting of heinous assault.
“It already feels like I died once but I just stuck around. I don’t feel like I’ve got much of a right to still be here. No one will ever understand and no one will ever care that much so I guess it matters less than I thought.”
Almost 1 in 5 LGBTQ+ people have experienced homelessness at some point, and approximately 77% of those listed family rejection, abuse or being asked to leave home as the reason for their homelessness. For a lot of people, the one truth one holds upon entry to the world is that as long as you are with family, you are safe. Those who hold you as a babe protect you. This human comfort is often robbed from queer youth.
“There's a lot more trans people than anyone would believe, theres an entire demographic of them sleeping in doorways as we speak. I would know, I was one. They're suicidal and they're crying out for help, theyre taking everything that helps ease the pain and theyre going to die.
I know what it’s like and it’s worse than you could possibly imagine. Days without food. Waking up and realising that the 25 year old sleeping next to you just died. Fare-skipping the train because someone online said they’d help you if you came to them. Being used as a result of that.”
“If I wanted to survive the night, the answer was yes to everything and anything.”
Being forced to surrender her own body in hopes of being granted more days of life. Seeing your very existence dangle in the balance, decided by the glint of a knife in a strangers hand.
“I'm hurting and it's not my pain to bear. i want them to know what they've done to us how much they ruin our lives. I'm not sure how long i can be here for and i want to at least improve the lives of my sisters”
Little falsifiable data is able to be found concerning the number of trans people without a home. An already vulnerable demographic, many may fear being “out” in fear of becoming a target. Even so, in 2020 research found that 1 in 4 transgender people reported experiencing homelessness. Beautiful lives being deprived of the future they deserve. Dragged under a tumultuous sea. The torrent snatching their screams until they are washed away, as insignificant as grains of salt in the ocean.
All above are excerpts from text messages I have received from Angel.
Below are some links for services that support LGBTQ+ unhoused individuals, please show support and spread the word:
https://england.shelter.org.uk/housing_advice/homelessness/lgbtq
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