Cydkney’s Diary

Preface

I need to let this be known now, if you don't like hearing the untold truth of what Trans Women of Color like myself have to go thru on a daily basis. This is not the book for you to read. We are constantly being overlooked and stepped on. We as trans women are being target, slaughtered, and carted away like we mean nothing, and until this world realizes that we are TRANS but not TRANSLUCENT to the world we are subjected to live in, we will continue to break every single boundary that we are subjected to endure. Thank you to everyone who has ever supported me.

~ Cydkney Alloura Love

The following is based on a True Story, to protect the identities of the parties involved names have been changed.

___________________________

Dear Diary,

Why is being human so hard? I think I would have been very content being born a tree. Yes, can't I just exist and not have a care in the world? If only it was that easy.

It seems like I tend to get myself in the same predicaments over and over, as if history is constantly mocking me. I can't seem to get away from certain things, here's what I mean...

August 10th, 2020

12:07 AM

"I don't know who raised you, but I don't ever want to be in the same room with them or its going to be a huge problem." There it was...

That very line ricocheting in my head 'Who raised you?' Now I think I'm losing the one person I have left. Oh who am I? I'm Cydkney Alloura Love. A 21 year old black trans woman, yes don't get it confused. I maybe trans, but not translucent to the world I am subjected to live in. What I'd do to get people to understand who I am.

Cydkney is power, strength, courage, beauty, and many more things that the person I was before was not. I am her and she is me darlings. For you to get an understanding of who Cydkney is and why I say history seems to keep mocking me, you need to know who Cydkney was before she was Cydkney my loves. That is none other than Justin Jordan.

May 11th, 1999

7:48 PM

I was born on May 11th, 1999 in Plaquemine, Louisiana, at River West Medical Center. Around the time I was born people were calling the hospital Killer West. I guess they didn't have the best medical practices or what not, but I most definitely survived my arrival into this world at 7:48 PM at night.

The birth of a pure, innocent, bundle of joy. A baby boy 22 year old Charronda Jordan would name Justin Jamal Jordan. My father, Shon Willis, was not present during my birth, but that was ok. He would soon assume his role in my life.

Everything must have started off great I guess. I never truly understood the dynamic of my mother and fathers relationship.

My dad and my moms relationship must have been working in the beginning, because in between the ages of 3-4 my father took me with him to live with him in Georgia.

I vaguely remember following my dad, grandma, and grandpa around Georgia to different places. Especially my grandma, she would take me to this Mall in Georgia and I would get a balloon. I remember that like it was yesterday. I was a child and remember bits and pieces of certain things.

From my understanding everything was good, until my mom came all the way to Georgia to take me back to Louisiana. To this day I still don't know what went on between the two of them but I have bit of an idea... So here I was on my way back to Louisiana. The start of many sorrows.

December 25th, 2004

12:00 AM

When I arrived back to Louisiana it was right around the time of Christmas, and right before my 5th birthday. I would never forget this time period, I was getting ready to be introduced to my older sisters Crystal Jordan and Tasha Grant. I don't believe this was my first time meeting them, but it felt like it. As if I'd never met them before.

       Crystal was the oldest of us 3, so she was normally in charge, but what I didn't realize until years later was Crystal my 9 year old sister at the time. Would be taking care of me more then my own mother. Charronda was never home at all and her rules were very strict. If we were to leave out of her house while she was not home, we would suffer the consequences, as she would say.

       It got to the point that I thought that Crystal was my mom, but she was nothing more then my oldest sister who was nothing more then 5 years older then me. Crystal fed me through out the day, bathe me, even woke me up every morning and prepared me for school. We didn't have a washer or drier at the time, so Crystal would wash our clothes on her hand. She was literally the mother figure for me in my early stages of life.

       Tasha had it a lot different then Crystal. See, when she was born, the doctors told my mom that Tasha would develop a lot slower then most kids. So my mom took it and ran with it to get a check, literally. In my opinion, Tasha was always perfectly fine to me, but that didn't stop people from treating her different all because of a label. It showed a lot as well, I always noticed my mom was always nicer to Crystal and treated Tasha way harsher.

       "Look at you! Just as fucking stupid as yo' fucking daddy!" My mom would holler at her, or she would make a remark like, "Oh my god girl you gon' be just as ugly as them people on yo' daddy side." As time went on I realized, my mom acted more of a tyrant then a mother.

       The first time I endured Charronda's wrath was right before my 5th birthday. My mom hates to see us cry or wine. I cried about something I must have wanted, being the child I was and my mom lost it. She picked me up by my neck and swiftly let me go.

       "Shut the fuck up!" She yelled as she let me hit the floor with a hard thud. It seemed as if all the air had left my lungs and I lost my voice. I held the cry in for the longest before I let out an ear lurching scream that scared Crystal and Tasha.

       After these events, was my 5th birthday, I remembered this because my mom bought me a Scooby Doo cake for me 'hitting my head' as she put it. I remember her embrace and her telling me how sorry she was. Then we went to her friends Linda's house, where she had a small birthday party for me. Some man lifted me on his neck while everyone around me sang Happy Birthday.

This was also the year I met Eugene Bucks, he was my P.E. Coach. I will get to him soon...

   June 2007

       So much of time had gone by, and not much changed. Charronda was still leaving Crystal to look after Tasha and me nearly everyday. Crystal never got to live a normal life like any other 13 year old girl her age. She had always been in the house watching Tasha and me. We couldn't even go outside because if we dared, no telling what Charronda would do. She didn't want anyone to know that we were home while an adult was not there watching us. If we did go outside or answer the door for anyone, Crystal  would have to suffer the consequences.

       When Charronda was upset, she goes ballistic to this day. At the age I was then, 8, I had already been beaten with whatever was in the vicinity of my mom. Her rage was something to be feared, and she definitely ruled her house with an iron fist. One time Tasha got caught calling her dad, and my mom wasn't too happy about it. She broke the wooden handle off the broom and attacked her. Tasha tried to run and hide from her all over the house, but it only made her madder.

       Right after my mom stopped her attack, Tasha was sitting in the bedroom we occupied at the time crying, then she grabbed the vaseline and decided to coat her bruises.

       I quickly shook my head and whispered to her, "No! She is going to whoop you again!"  Tasha gave me a dirty look and replied. "For putting Vaseline on?" I had started reading my mom like a book, I started knowing her every tic, even the smallest ones, so I knew this would make her madder.

       She then continued to apply it and about 5 minutes later my mom walked inside the room and saw what she was doing. "You want put on Vaseline on huh? Come get yo' second ass whoopin' cause you askin' for it!" She yelled. When Tasha started to cry and walk out of the room to get another whooping. I buried my head in the pillow on my bed and cried.

       The bruises on Tasha was highly noticeable and the school decided to take action. Crystal, Tasha, and me got home from school and my mom was crying. She took Tasha to the side and told her, "You can't tell them people I whooped you or else they gon' take you away from me. You want them to take you away from me?" My mom started crying, which made all of us cry.

Tasha told her no and they both hugged. I came to understand then that my mom would continue the same cycle. These were the times I wish I had my dad. So many things were happening that I couldn't control, but I was just a child so I was left with no choice.

A month or so went on and all was still the same. My mom was still going on her rampages and apologizing to us as usual. Then she came home one day and brought all of us into one room to have a talk with us. We were all so scared we didn't know what to do.

"I need to tell y'all something... I'm pregnant." She said. Crystal and Tasha gasped and started cheering. I just stared at my mom blankly because I was highly hurt that I would no longer be the baby boy. I also did not realize that this would be the start of all my worries.

My baby brother Jason Jordan was born on November 8th of 2007. Around this time is when my mom also introduced us to her boyfriend, Nathan Bosley. Nathan was not my baby brothers father, but he moved in with us. He was very cool, a number of times he saved me and my siblings from my moms tantrums. He was a very good person and I never had a problem with him to this day.

My mom and Nathan had been dating for a little over a year, and they had a very rocky relationship. They would break up and be back together by the end of the week. It was a constant between them, they both were toxic for each other but that didn't stop them from being together. Nor did it stop him from playing the father roll in me or my other siblings lives.

I had failed 1st grade around this time... Yes I know laugh it up. I failed 1st grade because I was never in class and always in trouble. I was extremely small for my age. I always ended up the smallest person in my class in elementary school. It seemed as if people would always tower over me. My teacher Ms.McClay would always make jokes about it, and so would the other kids. It was torture for me at the time. So I would 'act out' in class as they would say, and they would send me to Coach Bucks or Coach Vills.

Coach Bucks and Coach Vills were known for 'straightening our act out' in elementary school. Coach Vills was this huge muscled dread headed Coach, and Coach Bucks was very old and scaly looking. They would bring us to 'the back' which was this somewhat dim lit area that led to the gyms boys bathroom. They would yell and at us and whoop us and tell us that our parents gave them permission to do so.

Sometimes it was both of them who would bring us to 'the back' or they would do it separately. When they brought certain kids to the back separately, like me, is when things would always end up terrible. Coach Vills the scary one always just intimidated you, made you think he would whoop you so you would act better in class and never actually did anything to you, but Coach Bucks... He was a total creep.

When he took me to 'the back' by hisself he would pull his gym shorts down and make me touch and pull at his wrinkled, old, private parts. He had been doing this since I was in Kindergarten and I really didn't think anything of it, nor was I the only one. It was either do it or he would threaten to call our mom and I didn't want to get beaten by my mom, so I dealt with him for years.

I got home from school one day around this time and there was some guy at home, who was said to be Nathan's cousin. His name was Andrew and he didn't have anywhere to go, so my mom let him stay with us for a while. We lived in a 2 bedroom house so my mom had to make accommodations. I was rooming with my sisters before, but they complained that I was bothering them, so my mom turned the living room into my room. Andrew would be staying in my room with me for the time he was there, and during his stay he would make what Coach Bucks was doing to me seem like a walk in the park.

-------TO BE CONTINUED-------