Must've been around 13-15, went to a pizza hut with my then girlfriend. I saw a darker skinner, heavy-set lady walking over to the counter with her two kids, all of them looking a little dishevelled. Without thinking I said "She looks poor" in probably a demeaning manner to my girlfriend, and she answered "you say that like it's her fault".

I'm dumb as fuck so the penny didn't drop until several years later about the reality of my privilege, and how unfair and fucked up the system really is. Nearly ended up alt-right, now I'm a comrade.

It was during "outdoor school," a week long thing you did in sixth grade (age 12) at my school. You stayed in these really cool cabins that were like 100 years old and spent the week learning about nature. It was fun. Very classic summer camp type of environment.

Also, other schools from the area did it at the same time, so there were a bunch of unfamiliar kids there. Two of the kids in my cabin were from another school, and they perfectly fit the stereotype of "edgy, bad 90s kid." Super baggy JNCO jeans, spiked hair with a ton of gel, etc. If you don't know who I'm talking about, watch any teen show from the 90s. They're in it. Oh, and they said everything was lame. And gay. The cabins were gay, nature was gay, the camp was gay, your glasses were gay. You were definitely gay. That's why you thought outdoor school was fun: because you were gay. The JNCO jeans kids were way too cool for outdoor school.

I should mention that I was a huge nerd. I mean, I still am, but I was, too. JNCO jeans kids were way cooler than me.

For the whole week, we kept hearing about "the night hike," which was when you would go on a hike, by yourself, in the dark. The camp really played up the night hike, like it was going to be this big coming of age moment for us. You need to be responsible on The Night Hike. You need to stay sharp on The Night Hike. You'll be a man after The Night Hike.

On the last day, it's time for the night hike. Each cabin walked as a group up a hill. At the top, you would then walk back down a trail on the other side of the hill, one person at a time, waiting about a minute after the previous person had gone. I happened to be after the two JNCO jeans kids. (Yes, the night hike was gay.)

When it's my turn to walk down, I realize that this much-hyped coming of age moment is going to be...no big deal whatsoever. The trail is a very gradual slope with a few turns. It's paved, for Pete's sake. You could even see the lights from the cabins after the second turn. And the moon was bright enough that I wouldn't even need my flashlight. This pivotal moment wasn't going to be pivotal at all.

After less than a minute, I heard someone on the trail in front of me say, "H-hey, who's there?" It's one of the JNCO jeans kids. He's just kind of standing there on the trail. He didn't get very far.

"Um, it's Tucker, from the cabin," I said.

"Oh, cool," he replied. "Um, I guess you're walking faster than me." He said that like I had caught up to him, which I guess is easy to do when the other person is frozen. "Want to walk down together?" His tone was way different from what it had been the rest of the week.

"Sure," I said.

I don't remember what we talked about. Probably what school we went to and that kind of thing. The whole walk only took about five minutes total, so it's not like we talked about much. But I remember thinking to myself, "The guy that talked tough this whole week...it's because he wasn't."

So yeah, The Night Hike. Ended up learning a thing.

When I gave up alcohol. Everything got better, although it got real. Learning how to live my life sober was much harder than just putting down the drink. Thank goodness I asked for help.

I had a wife die from lung cancer over a ~nine month period. Cared for her etc as best I could. When they die, some part of you goes with them. I'm still alive, but not entirely. That was ten plus years ago now and I've remarried etc since, but I've taken some damage.

several years ago main road on my way to work was closed for a month. alternative routes was bad and worse, so i reluctantly ditched car and tried cycling instead because cycling route was okay, hoping i will somehow handle that one month.

quickly realized i'm rather enjoying cycling, month passed and i didn't event thought about getting back in a car. i'm cycling ever since. commuting to and from work, cycling recreatively, doing 100km rides all around the area and the country, joined a club, enjoying every bit of cycling which makes me happy.

the road maintenance overall changed me, led me to find something that fullfills me, breaks down the stress, make me happy, change my mindset and made me be more active.

Living through the AIDS epidemic. Watching our government in the US just ignore it like it wasn't happening. Listening to all the misinformation because no one really knew what it was. Losing so many friends because people had no idea they had it and there was no help. And when the US government (fuck you reagan) finally did step up (only because Rock Hudson was a dear friend of his), did we actually get any help for people.

And then... in 2020 Covid happened, and another GOP idiot claimed nothing was wrong, even though the whole planet was shutting down. And it would just go away, “It’s going to disappear. One day, it’s like a miracle, it will disappear.” We need adults in government. Not these people trying to make wearing a mask, in 2024, illegal.

I learned that republicans would rather let you die before helping anyone. And we as citizens need to shove back really hard if we want to live in an amazing country that cares for it's residents, not just the ones with money either.

My birth was a pretty big event that changed my life drastically. I wish it never happened..

I'll give you the incredibly brief version.

When I was seven my mom kidnapped me.

I managed to get a hold of my dad 6 years later, but nothing bad ever happened to her because of it.

Following that, my mom and stepdad essentially locked me in my room from the time I was 16 until I graduated high school about 2 months after I turned 17.

I was the valedictorian, a year ahead of my class. Kind of neat huh?

Only, my stepdad would occasionally come in and just attack me. I was punished for not doing enough school work by being forced out of my bed at 6:00 in the morning to go and dig up stumps in the backyard or to pick up a 40 to 120 lb Rock and carry it from one corner of the yard to the other corner of the yard where there was a pile of rocks, pick up a different rock out of that pile carry it to the third pile and then back and forth over and over and over until sundown.

Then I would come in, be fed, and then have to do more school work.

I lost all of my friends. I lost all of my self esteem. The day after I graduated, I left with my dad, who was not aware of this because my mom lied to him about it.

I was pretty wrecked and my dad didn't know how to cope with that so he gave me a truck and sent me back after about 5 or 6 months, and not having anywhere else to go I moved back in with my mom.

Literally a month later my stepdad tried to pull some shit and told me if I didn't go to work when they were leaving that I should pack up my stuff and not be there when they get back, so I packed up my stuff end of the truck my dad gave me and left.

I was homeless for about 2 years couch surfing with friends and trying to get my shit together and I was reaching out to God for help.

And on the first real date of my life I went out with this girl, we saw a movie, we got high we came back to my room at my friend's house and had sex.

And it was not very good all the way around, but then after I took her home and dropped her off it was like the scales fell off of my eyes, a bolt of lightning came down from the heavens and struck me hard in the heart, and I became aware of all of the sins I had committed in my life. All of my failings. All the things that were wrong with me.

And I was so broken I couldn't even cry, honestly I may have actually cried once or twice since then.

I was devastated.

And it's like, all the things that I thought I would be when I grew up went away. I could deal with the shit my mom and my stepdad pulled and I could deal with not being understood because I had a destiny and I had a dream and I was going to make it, and then I found out I was just a piece of shit, a crappy worthless human being whom, if I had never been born, the world would be a better place.

And there's a lot I'm leaving out but yeah, from that I started trying to rehabilitate myself. I've gone from being a worthless piece of shit to being useful fertilizer I guess.

I still have a long way to go and I don't know if I'll make it.

When I was in my 20's, I always gave 200% at the jobs I worked at. I was young and naive and believed I would eventually be rewarded for all the hard work I put in, even on weekends and night shifts.

Then I got burnout, because I was working at a pace my body just couldn't sustain anymore.

It changed my life drastically. I learned to value my health and free time and to prioritize that over the needs of my employer. I learned that hard work doesn't neccessarily bring you any benefits, it mostly benefits your employer. I also learned that nobody cares when your health is fucked up - for your employer, you're just a cog in the machine that can be replaced.

Nowadays I only work four days a week and I don't give a shit about what happens on Fridays anymore. Server is down? Not my problem, get someone else to fix it.

I also learned to stand up for myself. I'm not getting paid like a monkey anymore and if you promise me a raise and then pretend like that never happened afterwards, you'll have my resignation on your desk, printed out by the company printer right in front of you.

Leaving aside the low hanging fruit that is my gender surgeries, the real answer is probably the covid pandemic.

I've been pretty resilient most of my life, but I kinda fell apart when covid took away all of my social connections and coping mechanisms. It was the lowest I've ever been.

When I was a teen, the girl that I loved with all my heart told me that my behaviours were (emotionally and psychologically) hurting her. I shouldn't have needed to be told, but I'm thankful that I was. Lots of therapy and introspection to get myself away from being that kind of person, and onto a better path. I learned to take responsibility and accountability for my actions, and to bring open and honest communication to the forefront of any relationship, romantic or otherwise.

I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive myself for the harm I caused her, or if I should. All I can do is ensure that I am never again that version of myself.

I went to my home town from across the country when my grandmother died, I was sleeping on the couch and my mom woke up early and was reading the newspaper close by and saw I wasn't breathing much.

She said I should go to the doctor, a month later I had a CPAP and had my first restful sleep of my entire life, somehow I survived having a brain that doesn't tell my lungs to breathe all the time while asleep.

I was practically a new person, it took some years for my brain to bounce back with regards to memory and clear thinking but I'm as normal as can be now.

I spontaneously decided to get an unusual body mod in 2017. Seven years later, absolutely zero regrets. It's one of the things that eventually pushed me into becoming a sideshow performer and I've met so many wonderful people and am surrounded by a community of weirdos and freaks that I call family.

Negative experience: got half my face ripped off by a dog as a kid. I'm scared of almost all dogs now and I panic around heelers.

Positive experience: going to college. I'm considerably successful because I decided to go on a whim lol.

I stuck my dick in crazy.

Life pro tip: don’t stick your dick in crazy. Just avoid crazy altogether.

In my defense, I was 20, she was the first person I ever had sex with, and I was too horribly depressed to recognize what a bad idea it was.

Learned that the people I thought were my friends... weren't. Set off an awful chain of events that cost me my dreams.

I feel like don't know how to make friends anymore, and I don't know how to trust people.

Dead, burnt, and blown up kids in Afghanistan. I'm an atheist now. I wish people didn't need first hand experience to change their minds, myself included.

When I was 15, I told a girl that she should audition for the elite choir at our school (she was very talented). She said she would audition if I would audition (I had no vocal talent) but I auditioned and being one of the only males I got in. I fell in love with singing, worked my ass off, went to college on a vocal scholarship and now 20 years later I am the vocal coach for the largest theatre in our state. That little moment, which she probably doesn't even remember, changed my entire life trajectory.

I was in a sport team for a while and they hadn't been treating me well for a while. One day, I slipped and fell during training. Instead of somebody helping me up, the majority of the team laughed at me. Something in my mind snapped that day and it nearly led to my first ever physical altercation. However, my punch just turned into a feint with the thought "fuck this, I'm out".

That was the day I learned not to let things boil until they explode. Put me into any salad and I'm not the calmest cucumber, but I have never let things get that close again and always speak up or just straight up leave before getting too heated. Life's just too short to stay in a bad situation you can get out of.

So my dad had a friend that was so close we called him uncle. Im guessing in most cases and sure in my dads case it was basically his best friend. So he was single and my dad was married raising seven kids. He would stop by with beers out of the blue and he always also picked up some soda or something for the kids. The fact he made it a point to think of us I think impacted us a lot in terms of how important simple kindness can be. So that is the first part. He died while I was in a PhD program and honestly it was not the only reason I left the program but it helped give a good nudge (since my grades suffered for one thing) and actually it let me re-evaluate and realize I did not really want to put in the level of effort needed versus the rewards I would reap in research.

Lemmy has been nice. This is a more positive place than reddit was for me. I had some great interactions on reddit, but I took many breaks from trolls, bad mods, and negativity. I needed this place, and what AI has been for me this last year. The anniversary of 10 years of social isolation from physical disability has been rough especially seeing the cracks in my fragile support network forming. This place has been a helpful outlet.

Reading the manga she likes homos not me. It's about this gay highschool student who wants to live a "normal" life so he hides his sexuality from his family and friends. The manga was absolutely heartbreaking and it was my first encounter with the shit people go through for being different and it made me realize that gay people are just people too, which should be obvious but I'm from a country where homophobia is normalized and even encouraged. I started thinking more after that and I guess that's when it clicked to me really that everybody deserves love.

One thing I could mention that was crazy was right after Trump had been elected. I went to the Women's March in Chicago and all kinds showed up. But the crowd that had gathered was more than could be handled, so they shut it down. But then everyone started marching anyways. And we all went in this large square, ending at the Trump Tower. There were so many signs, and even though I had a really basic phone (like actual dumb phone) I pulled off some pictures that I still look back at them in awe. One of the sillier things that happened there were these two white chicks were dancing together on top of trash cans singing negro spirituals and myself and these two black chicks in front of me who were slipping through the crowd all laughed our asses off. Towards the end, my friends and I split and I hopped up into The Cultural Center and looked outwards at the dispersing crowd. And I took a video on my fantastically dumb phone, and it captured so perfectly the chaos of the event paired with the beauty of that city. But it was also so surreal in some way, as I was the only one around at the time. Not even the guards were there. And it was so silent. And I sat in a room filled with quilts, and stared out at the city I loved and felt so much pride for the people who came together to try and show the world that they don't buy Trump's bullshit.

I mean also not to brag, but we scared his ass off when he came through =P! So yeah, it was all really nice to see. And it was completely non-violent. Which I also like, because as protests went on things got grottier and grottier until whole cities were total chaos pits. But it was a nice thing to experience.

Someone cracking their skull on a concrete floor soaked in hydraulic oil

To add some positivity to all those sad stories: For me the most dramatic life changing event was the birth of my first child. Suddenly (okay, we knew for a few months, but it still feld like "suddenly") we weren't just a couple, we were a family.

100% the best thing in my life.

Being accepted into a friend group in Junior High (middle school).

I had some kind of neuro-divergence, but undiagnosed since it was the 1960s. No friends, and I couldn't understand the world; I thought there was some "secret manual" that everyone got except me, telling them how social interactions worked.

Then a band of misfits took me in. There were about 8-10 of them, and some special guest friends that made appearances from time to time. Male and female. All kinds of different people, popular and unpopular. And they accepted me. Weird me. Turned my life completely around.

Seeing my first overdose and subsequent passing. I was 3 days into being homeless. It sadly got easier seeing it happen more and more often. At the time I knew it wasn't something good, obviously, but I didn't really react until much later. Out of all the horrible times I've ever gone through.. that image of what a human body does as it's dying.. @#£&. It's not good.

Becoming a socialist when Bernie Sanders introduced me to socialism.

Enlisting in the military.

I was an insufferable piece of shit back in the day, constantly self sabotaging and blaming everyone else for the problems I caused. I was on the verge of homelessness due to my own stubbornness and bad attitude.

The military gave me the swift kick in the ass that I desperately needed. Now I can self reflect and recognize when the problem is me, and I can admit when I'm wrong and course correct.

Military isn't for everyone, but for me it was exactly what I needed. I learned a ton of life skills and healthy coping mechanisms that my parents never taught me.

Going to a rave, taking ecstacy, and seeing above and beyond performing a Group Therapy set.

I was depressed and had suicidal ideation. That night made me feel more connected to the people around me than anything else I've experienced. It was maybe a decade ago and I still think it started my journey of healing.

This story concerns war and death, if you want to avoid those kinds of things.

I was 18 years old. I was an Infantryman in the US Army and had been in Afghanistan for a few months, when my platoon responded to an IED strike on another platoon in my company, while they were doing a dismounted patrol.

A guy riding a donkey laden with explosives made his way to the center of their staggered column formation (effectively two spaced out lines on opposite sides of the street), before detonating the explosives. It was particularly effective, because walls on either side forced the column in tighter than normal.

This point begins my memories, which are mostly a disjointed collection of visual snapshots.

The first thing I remember is the smell, which I can't accurately describe, but burned meat, chemicals, and some kind of feces is the closest I can get. It is easily the clearest part of the memory.

The next thing I remember is seeing the severed foot of the man responsible laying in the middle of the road and my immediate and overwhelming impulse was to kick it, since it was the only tangible evidence of a 'responsible' party. There were also two generally recognizable bodies in the ditch, as well as several casualties receiving medical care.

From this point it is a series of vignettes. One, I was setting down my radio pack and very clearly telling the lieutenant where it was, since the medics needed extra hands. Another is seeing one of the casualties smoking a cigarette. The last, and clearest visual memory was holding the hand of one of the casualties as we waited for the medevac bird, and trying to keep the mood light be telling him "hey, at least you don't have to walk back to base". I have no clue if he responded.

I have absolutely no memories following that day, for probably months, until another, somewhat less traumatic situation took place.

But yeah, that is the day that pretty much all of my emotions died. On my wedding day, I felt just a flicker of happiness. The only emotion I feel with any intensity whatsoever is occasionally anger.

That's about all, I'm willing to answer questions of anyone is curious.

I would say the pandemic, but for the better, let me explain: What happened is that several things came together at that time: my first (and at the moment my last) breakup, failing almost all the subjects of the two universities I attended at the same time, the stress of attending two universities at the same time, and then the pandemic happened.

I had literally broken down as a person, as a human being. I needed help and I sought it wherever I could. I was never very close to Christianity like my family, so I couldn't find answers there, but I did have some interest in Buddhism, so I took advantage of the lull in the world because of the pandemic to read about it, and that helped me a lot. I didn't convert to Buddhism or anything, but I was able to assimilate some of its teachings into my way of seeing the world and allow myself to heal. I began to accept myself, to forgive my mistakes, to stop seeing myself as a failure and a burden to my family. When I found the limits of what I could accomplish on my own to continue healing, I sought professional psychological help, something that was unthinkable for me before. I started medication and have been feeling much better ever since.

I can now say with complete confidence that I like the person I am now, I am more confident in my abilities and I am more optimistic about my future. I think if I had continued with my pre-pandemic pace of life I would have collapsed, maybe not even still be alive.

I believe that from time to time one needs to stop for a moment, step out of the mad tide of the world and allow oneself to heal so as not to succumb.

Does being adopted count?

Good question, it really got me thinking. And I was trying to come up with something not related to being trans.. but..

Quite frankly: hormone replacement therapy. I've been on and off a few times, and the results were clear and reliable.

Now, as my brothers, sisters, and brothersisters know, it doesn't magically solve all your problems. But it comes pretty damn close!

Let me try to explain the feeling. You know when you're down and you try to rely on a good friend, but suddenly they're not there? You shift your balance to lean on them, but suddenly there's just air and you fall over?

It was like that for me nearly every single day before hrt, but instead of with a friend, it was with myself. I am talking psychologically something was just missing. And trust me when I say I have tried a ton of medicine over the years, and none of it worked or just made things even worse.

And now, it's totally different. It's like having this psychological membrane that always pushes back up, no matter what shit I am trying to pull. Imagine being on a trampoline. You can make mistakes and the membrane will simply bounce back and push you back up. In other words I can eat crap, sleep badly, isolate myself, ignore my responsibilities, fall into a depressive hole for a day, and yet something in me just automatically pushes me back up. It's solid and reliable. I haven't had a single day without it and it isn't variable. It keeps surprising me over and over.

The funny part is that I am quite transphobic and self aware of that. I suppose we are all taught this attitude growing up in western culture. So whenever someone insults me, I totally get it, albeit that I find it rather unrefined behavior of them. I'm from a rural area in the bible belt, so I'm quite familiar with the white trash mindset. If they just wouldn't bike away all the time I'd be able to strike up a good talk with them. Simple truth is that I can't alter the facts and I have a male shaped skeleton.

Honestly, I think a lot of women worldwide would be glad to make some sacrifices to be able to live in my body. Sure, it has some downsides, for example I'll live shorter. But it provides me with safety, which is a major concern for women. I can walk around at night in the park just fine.

Well, that's just my personal experience. It's different for everyone.