My best friend in the psych ward is named Michael Ray H. He is 54 years old and experiencing homelessness. I don’t know exactly how he ended up in such a dire situation, but I do know this: he is my surrogate dad. He saw me my first night I was admitted and became my first friend just by being curious about me and being my first ally who truly listened to what I was saying even if I was using words and concepts he didn’t quite understand. Michael is extremely bright. He was hit by unfortunate circumstances over and over, and it wasn’t just bad things happening to him—the “bad luck” was a familial curse. Generational trauma and being partly indigenous will make your body keep the score and sometimes the body will instinctually crave things that aren’t exactly healthy—even if they feel really good; they are desirable, not because they are healthy or commonplace. They are desirable because they are special and make you feel good, so fast. In no amount of time at all. It’s like when you meet someone and it feels like God wrote a predetermined destiny that both of you would meet under dire circumstance after dire circumstance. Sometimes suffering follows you throughout life and you become extremely adaptable and agile and smart and authentic accidentally in the process. After all, none of the series of unfortunate events are our fault. Sometimes, the ones we love can hurt us without meaning it and you in return need to protect yourself with your boundaries. Sometimes that means learning how to love through silence. Sometimes you have to love yourself first before you can love another. Sometimes loving someone else first helps you love yourself.

First, Michael listened to me and got to know who I was and how I ended up in the same unsafe environment as him. Secondly, he learned how to love even when they received very little love in return. They learned they can love a fly because they were forced to adapt and survive for so long that they know they are smart and they don’t even need anyone’s validation for that. They’ve been gaslit so often by many different walks of life and people of all shapes and sizes, that they no longer hate anyone for their misplaced judgments and behaviors. We are all human and nobody’s perfect. They know everyone can be smart and beautiful and powerful. They just see and accept situations for what they are, even when it’s painful as fuck and they are suffering greatly while doing so.

Michael is one of the strongest, most powerful, and good hearted men I’ve ever met. (I’m a lesbian so usually men do not treat me well). I gave him my number and he hasn’t called me. He reminds me of my real dad. He reminds me of a few people I love very deeply. I love very easily, but the depth of love I extend to very few people is one I find immeasurable. As bottomless as the trauma I keep uncovering through my ability to relate to people like Michael who I met at a psychiatric hospital in a city I don’t live in. I meet very few men who genuinely love and respect and elevate the women in their life. Michael listens to women, full stop. He listens before he speaks. And when Michael realized I was just like him, even though I am very different than him and have never experienced real housing insecurity, he became my best friend, my first friend, and a fatherly figure. Like me, he was a patient’s rights advocate. Like Marie, the actual Patient’s Right Advocate at Del Amo. Marie wears Steve Job turtlenecks and mysteriously appeared at 1 am when I was passionately complaining about being the only Asian in the entire unit. The next day, another Asian girl was admitted and suddenly the racist nurses were gone and all these Asian nurses replaced them. (I love the Filipino night nurses, by the way).

Michael and I’s conversation sparked a grassroots wave of positive change. The same way a nonbinary lesbian using the men’s and women’s bathrooms (unfortunately the men’s was cleaner) inspired the majority of patients to follow suit. We never discussed gender—that would’ve been confusing. I just lead by example. I don’t need to explain what trans and nonbinary mean; I just need to love people who are not used to receiving love, and be my authentic self, share my story, and be honest and kind and vulnerable and truthful. I may be the first nonbinary lesbian Asian woman these people have met and that can be intimidating and scary and uncomfortable, but I love Michael and I love each patient I spent what felt like forever with.

I miss you Michael and I love you even if we are separated by forces outside of our control right now. I hope you are well and healthy. I hope you find peace and wealth soon. I hope you find a home, because I wish I could buy you one tomorrow. You deserve better than what this country has offered you. You could be the President of America. Dare I say, you should be. Tell Christa to love you well.