De avondwandeling


Op het moment dat Bram de afvalemmer naar buiten brengt is het al flink donker geworden. Daar houdt hij niet van, hij heeft het eerder voor lange zomeravonden en felverlichte straten. Nu moet hij het stellen met het flauwe schijnsel van een lantaarn. Zou hij nog even een ommetje maken? Het dringt tot hem door dat het in de winter niet zo makkelijk is om het aantal aan te raden stappen te zetten die bijdragen tot een goede gezondheid. Tienduizend stappen! Wie haalt deze standaard doelstelling elke dag?
Bram knoopt zijn jas beter dicht. Hij is blij met zijn dikke, warme sjaal die als een warme deken om zijn nek zit. De straat ligt er verlaten bij. Er is niemand die op dit uur door deze vrieskou wil trekken. Niemand behalve zo'n gekke man als ik, denkt Bram. Toch zet hij door, zijn slimme telefoon kan stappen tellen. Dat is handig, maar vaak ook erg confronterend.
'Nog niet kijken,' mompelt hij tegen zichzelf, 'als je het nog eventjes kunt uitstellen is het aantal extra stappen een heuse verrassing!'
Niet veel later houdt hij zijn pas in. Bram nadert het huis waar hij liever met een flinke boog omheen zou willen lopen. Het geeft hem de kriebels, al weet hij niet precies waarom dat is. Er is iets met dat huis, iets ongewoons. Bram heeft er nog nooit een levende ziel gezien, maar toch lijkt het bewoond. Maar door wie? Mensen die er vreemde gewoonten op na houden, dat is iets wat zeker is. Zoals nu ook weer. Wie hangt er nou een camera aan een waslijn? Niet dat je in deze weersomstandigheden je truien buiten kunt te drogen hangen, maar een camera hoort hier ook niet thuis. Het wekt zijn nieuwsgierigheid, al weet hij dat het beter is snel weer weg te gaan. De ramen van het huis worden met plakband bij elkaar gehouden. Wie leeft er op deze manier? Waarom laten ze het niet herstellen? Bram schrikt op, hij zag een schim bij het raam. Heeft iemand gezien dat hij hier stond te dralen? Hij wil hard wegrennen, maar zijn benen doen niet mee. Het lijkt alsof hij aan de grond genageld is met grote, stevige pinnen. Het verkeersbord dat waarschuwt voor spelende kinderen voelt wat onwerkelijk aan. Bram wil weg, maar het is te laat.


Foto: pixabay

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We're going to make Yoors videos
Hey, everybody.! @Maluc and I have decided to make more videos on Yoors for you. We are wondering what you would like to see from us so leave your ideas in the comments! We are looking forward to creating fun content on Yoors. #yoorsoriginalvideo
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My friend is a woman
My friend is a woman - How I, as a straight woman, try to deal with my friend's transition from man to woman.“I want to be a woman.” - These words are still engraved in my memory as if he uttered them yesterday. In reality, he told me them at the end of last year, somewhere early October 2019. I fell from the sky. Of course I already knew that my friend was not a cliché machoman, and let that be exactly what attracts me so much about him. He is also autistic, because of which he can not always name his feelings and emotions, this is called “alexithymia.” We've been together for almost four and a half years now, and in the meantime, you know a thing or two about each other. For example, he told me that he used to wear dresses of his sisters for fun.Not a big deal, you might think. My mother had shortened and taken one of my father's overalls so I could walk through the mud with overalls and rubber boots and play farmer. However, what my friend never told me is how he felt when wearing those dresses, because he could never explain his emotions. Now this is still difficult for him, but with the help of a psychologist and sexologist, he slowly but surely comes out. He felt “right “when he wore those dresses, like he had to wear those dresses, and he always would. But he was born a man and his parents always raised him like that. My friend has a mustache, a beard, broad shoulders and a heavy voice. Nothing about him has ever made me - or anyone around me - suspect he's transgender.First appointment with the sexologist. - On October 14, he had his first appointment with a sexologist attached to a hospital in our region. That was a very difficult day for me, because my head told me he'd come back from the hospital as a woman. No, no, no. His sexologist helps him to (re) discover his orientation, his gender and who he wants to be. The appointments were supposed to come monthly. My friend has a counselor who helps him because he's autistic, and she's been with him once to the sexologist. I haven't dared to do it so far. After his penultimate appointment with the sexologist, he comes home and says, “I can start hormone therapy, it's really going to happen!” I can tell you that I felt terrified that day, and I had one panic attack after another and systematically hid it all from my friend. To this day, I still have panic attacks, although thanks to my new antidepressants, these are a lot less frequent.To the endocrinologist. - At some point, my friend's autism supervisor is sitting with us, and she says to him, “Oh yes, I have mapped out our train and bus routes to get to Mortsel”. I fell all the way from the sky. When I asked why they went to Mortsel and when, the counselor looked at me amazed. She thought I knew they were going to Mortsel together. No, no. Apparently, there's an endocrinologist. I had NEVER heard the word in my life, but apparently this is also called a 'hormone doctor', who is very concerned with diabetic patients, but also with people with hormone problems or, in this case, transgender. My throat was kind of pinched. Hormones already? A thousand and one questions popped my head in, and most of them are still there.The first hormone pill. - Yesterday it was then time: he was allowed to pick up the prescription for his hormones from the GP. He then did this and he immediately went to get the medication from the pharmacist. Yesterday he also immediately took his first two doses. I am terrified. Realistically, I know that no changes will be noticeable for the time being, but they will actually be there. For him, of course, it was great. He loves this whole process, he will finally become who he wants to be and he hopes to finally be truly happy. And I'll give him that. How hard I give him that.- Oh, my... But what about me? - I am straight. Of course, I can greatly appreciate the beauty of some women (who not?) , but I'm not attracted to women. My friend keeps telling me that he will not change much, but how can the transformation from man to woman be called “not much” now? What's going on with our relationship? I love my friend, but I really love it, and now I feel like I'm grieving. Because soon “my friend “will be gone. Then there's a woman in its place. He's not out of the closet with my parents, who are actually his parents, since his real parents have never been parents to him (are you still following?) , and plans to do this through a letter, because that way he can get out of his words more easily, and he can't tell them face-to-face, afraid of their reactions. He already wrote that letter, and I already read it. When he plans to send these to my parents, I don't know. But I'm also afraid of my parents' reaction. I'm afraid of everything right now. - This is the beginning of what is likely to become a long series. With this I give you a broader insight into my life at Yoo.rs, which is currently completely upside down. #transgender #holebi #hetero #lgbtq #persoonlijk