This post discusses themes of sexual trauma,
religious trauma, and mental health struggles.
Please consider your wellbeing before reading further.
INTRO
Mental health is a complex, ever-changing landscape,
something that those of us navigating gender identity issues know all too intimately.
As a trans man, I've journeyed through some incredibly dark valleys and soared on a few unexpected highs,
experiencing firsthand the profound impact of societal perceptions and personal trauma on mental health.
Today, I want to share some of these experiences with you, not just to recount my struggles,
but to offer a glimpse into the real, often hidden battles that many in the transgender community face.
Trauma and Being a Trans Man
Exposing Those Who Sexualized Me
(yes I have Daddy issues I think that's why I dated older men trust me I learned my lesson)
When I was finally on my own in 2023, I experienced a whirlwind of emotions. On one hand, I loved the newfound independence; on the other, I hated the circumstances that came with it. I shared an infested roach apartment with my brother, but it wasn't until he moved out that I truly felt safe. It was then that I embraced my vulnerability and faced the people who had put me through hell. These weren't just random individuals—they were people I had been in relationships with.
First on the list is Angelo Nino, a 29-year-old Mexican man I met while trying to stay straight because of my Christian beliefs. I decided to shoot my shot at him when we were working together. By the second day, I had his number, and by the third, we hooked up. Our rendezvous took place at Chili's, and as we got serious, he wouldn't shut up about his "ex-wife." Later, I discovered she wasn't really his ex-wife, but he did miss his son. He had come to Amarillo from Colorado to get his life together for the sake of his child. Essentially, he used me as a side piece, crossing my boundaries and treating me as an object—all he wanted was sex to cope with his separation from his son.
During our first week of dating, Angelo revealed a dark secret: when he was 11, he molested a 6-year-old girl. This revelation, combined with the physical stress I was under, caused me to break out and lose my appetite. I didn’t realize at the time that Angelo was the root of my distress. Over the next two months, our relationship was a chaotic blend of off-and-on status and constant fights, particularly over LGBTQ rights. Angelo had the audacity to compare AIDS to cancer, saying men just needed to "activate" it. One Sunday, despite our no-contact terms, he called me. I was surprised, thinking he wanted to make amends or check up on me. Instead, all he wanted was sex.
I finally summoned the courage to tell him I wasn't interested and that he was using me as an object. We broke up around April, and I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness and freedom. Angelo couldn't stop sexualizing everything, even when we were just trying to be friends. When I finally moved away, I told him why I hated him, but predictably, he didn't believe me.
2nd is Jeremy
Trust is a fragile thing, and once shattered, it’s almost impossible to piece back together. Jeremy epitomized the worst kind of betrayal—a wolf in sheep's clothing. When I first met him in November 2023 at Walmart, I had no idea that our seemingly innocent conversation about career aspirations would lead to such a dark chapter in my life.
At the outset, Jeremy seemed engaging and genuine. We talked easily and exchanged numbers, and I was cautiously optimistic. Being a Christian and trying to navigate my feelings towards dating men(I was not excepting of my sexuality, I like women) , I was glad to find someone who shared my faith. I was 19 then, and Jeremy's age was a mystery, one he manipulated to his advantage.
Within days, he bombarded me with messages and calls, expressing a love that felt overwhelming and invasive. Unfamiliar with the term 'love bombing,' I thought perhaps this intensity was normal. Our first date was in his hotel room due to his exhausting job in the oil field. Despite his professed fatigue, he always had time for sex, revealing his true intentions.
As weeks passed, Jeremy learned about my sexual trauma but showed no understanding or empathy. Our relationship became a repetitive cycle of sex that left me feeling used and disrespected. His dirty talk was bizarre and unsettling, especially when he’d mention my family. His behavior escalated to disturbing actions, like masturbating while watching videos of my mom, and jerking off during our phone conversations—a trigger I had to repeatedly ask him to stop.
Jeremy's hypocrisy was glaring. He claimed that anyone asking for nudes was disrespectful, yet he would press me for them, only to lash out when I refused. His apologies rang hollow, often influenced by his mother’s advice rather than genuine remorse.
The final straw came when he ignored my screams to stop during sex, causing me to curl into a ball from traumatic flashbacks. His tears were self-pitying, not indicative of any real understanding. After our breakup, he tried to worm his way back into my life months later, conveniently forgetting how he disrespected my boundaries and violated my trust. His deceit extended to giving my number to random men who harassed me with sexual messages.
But Jeremy's betrayal was just one layer of my trauma. At 13, I was groomed by my mom's friend CJ, a predatory experience too painful to detail here. Earlier in my life, my inability to say "no" due to my autism led to repeated sexual harassment from a boy at school and my brother’s friend, Shawn.
The most harrowing memory dates back to when I was six, at my cousin's house. A man with a blurred face lured me into a closet, leaving me paralyzed by fear and confusion. The recollection of trying to hide in the light to escape the nightmare is still vivid.
Threats from other men, like Tee Vibez who promised to stab me in my dreams, compounded my trauma. His voodoo threats were a tactic to control and intimidate.(he is still trying to contact me to ask what he did wrong)
Now, I’m on a healing journey through EMDR therapy. It’s a process that’s helping me confront and process these traumatic experiences. The support from my family and a compassionate counselor has been invaluable. I’m in a better mental state, though the road to recovery is long and winding.
Transitioning is another challenge. The fear that hormones might trigger past traumas or alter my sense of self is daunting. However, positive role models like my little brother Donte give me hope. He represents the good in men, a stark contrast to those who have caused me pain.
Writing this has been cathartic. It’s a step towards reclaiming my narrative and shedding the weight of my past. If my story resonates with you, know you’re not alone. We all have the strength to exist and thrive, despite our traumas.
Thank you for reading.
Boldly moving forward,
[Jayce odufuwa]
P.S. If you found this story meaningful, please subscribe to support my journey, also the religious trauma in this, was most of these men claimed to be christain.
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