They were constantly arguing over my father suspecting my mother of cheating and wanting to hurt him. Mum was socially isolated because of it and was taking all that pressure out on me. But we were well-off and love was expressed in the form of purchases and gifts. They finally separated when I was 19 years old. My father is 25 years older than my mother. Now he lives separately with his cat. And I live with my mom, her new partner, and Persephone, my partner.

As a child, I desperately wanted us to be a perfect family. Over the years I began to wish that it would all just stop, and they would stop torturing each other. Even though my father behaved terribly in his relationship with his mother, I believe he is a good father to me. With him, I always felt more intimacy and understanding than I did with my mom. We talk regularly now, and he takes part in my life. He was invested a lot in my health, including mental.

Separately, of course, it should be noted that the search for a suitable therapist and treatment took a long time. I had to deal with different issues. Also, with the withdrawal of the drug because the doctor decided that I should definitely give birth soon, even though I am not going to do it theoretically. I just don't understand how a person who realises that he or she is in a bad psychological state might want to do it. Another psychiatrist purposely dead-named (called a name I don't use) and misgendered (used incorrect pronouns) me, although I did indicate how to address me correctly.

I have many warm memories associated with my father. It seems to me that for a man of 83 years, he has very modern views. He supported my experiments with appearances as a teenager and could tell my sexual orientation before I decided to tell him myself. Later he said that at first he was worried and called his doctors to see if it was okay, to which he got the answer: "It's a transitional age, hormones, you know, then everything will fall into place". Then he said that at some point he accepted that apparently "his child has some other hormones".

One day, I had to send a gift to my ex-girlfriend, but I couldn’t make it and asked my father to send it, telling him it was for a friend. She received the package and was touched by what a beautiful package of hearts I chose. The gift was packed by my father.

He does not fully understand the concept of non-binary and sometimes I hear phrases like "you are a man" from him. I explain to him that this is not exactly the case, that I don’t see myself as a man or a woman, but as just a person. To which he says, "Me too".

Perhaps this is a family thing.

Back then, I had a very controlling girlfriend who was offended if I spent time with someone other than her. I recall arguing with her because I wanted to go to a friend’s birthday party, and Mum and Dad were arguing behind the wall. And so, the quarrel subsided, my mother came to me and I shared what was going on. She said: "I understand, I’m not happy either. Come on, get ready, and go to your gay club. At least you have a good time".

Apart from conflicts, there was always a lot of humor in our family, so it was easier to smooth out difficult moments.

In the process of growing up, my identity at home felt somewhat cramped, but there was no particular tension. I accepted my non-conformity when I started discovering it. As for sexual orientation, I didn’t have some kind of awareness process. It was like that from the beginning and I accepted it. I remember in fifth grade I fell in love with my classmate, and he started dating a new girl. I realised I had fallen in love with her too. For me, it was something that doesn’t raise questions: OK, so I just love these two people. In kindergarten, I also used to like boys and girls.

There was not much pressure from parents about it. I was far more afraid of getting a bad grade than telling them about my identity.

One of the important symbols in my life is the number 4. It’s a kind of good luck charm for me. There are many stories associated with it. Once I got a lucky number of the final exam paper from music school.

There is a legend that people in hospitals die most often between two and four in the morning. I was born at 4 am. I wasn’t breathing. Doctors had already managed to sympathize with my mother and almost pronounced me dead, but I still survived. Already as a teenager, it turned out that these birth complications led to me being sent to music school to develop my fine motor skills. The same music school where I got a lucky exam task. In psychotherapy, when I was trying to cope with self-harm, instead of cuts I decided to draw fours on myself. It was helping.

I came to love crying. I also like to sing. It implies that I am very fond of musicals. And it’s very precious to be able to cry not from despair, but, for example, from being touched by art.

As for living in Ukraine, I love my country. I would like to see gender-neutral pronouns like 'they' for the singular appear in our language. Initially, the pronouns 'he/him' felt like a liberation from everything feminine in my identity, a way of saying that I’m not a woman, but, in fact, these are not neutral pronouns at all.