Trigger warning: mentions of past abuse, SA

I (24 trans man) grew up in an abusive household. My biological father was emotionally unavailable and checked out, and he and my biological sister have always been enablers of my biological mother, who was the abuser in my family. My mom was told when I was 3 that I was autistic, and that she should get me accommodations as I grew up and went to school. My mom told the doctor that she would not be getting me help, because if I struggled enough, I would "figure it out and catch up". The problem is that not getting me help meant that I never learned how to handle autistic meltdowns, and my mom's abuse came out when those happened. At 6, my mom would threaten to bash my head into the wall and fracture my skull if I didn't stop crying. She also used a lie that we were below the poverty line (I learned as an adult we weren't) to justify being unable to afford only food for me, so that I would not eat so I would be skinny - I'm built bigger and she hated that. She starved me a lot growing up, and would frequently tell me how much I ruined her life, and how she was happy before I came around.

Fast forward to October 2023. 23 years old. I was distant from my family and had spent most of the year getting very close with a 36 year old man that hosted an open mic night I started attending after being SA'd at the beginning of the year. This guy, Andrew - a music therapist, saw me as a very lost person, and he took me under his wing and began mentoring me as a budding musician in the local scene. Mentoring became big brothering, and big brothering turned into parenting. My bio parents stopped parenting me when I was 15 because I was "a grown up" and didn't need parenting anymore. Over the last year, Andrew and I have become inseparable. He became my family, took financial responsibility for me, and became my biggest cheerleader in my mental health, my career, my education, and my transition. I started hormones in January of this year, and will be having chest surgery in December.

In August, my mom threw me out after deciding I was not allowed to live at home if I was going to "continue being trans". Andrew lives in a one bedroom, but he moved me in that night and has given me a home. A month later, after going no contact with my bio family, Andrew signed adoption papers - adult adoptions are a real thing in my state and are a simple process. I started grad school, getting a master's in music therapy, and he's been supporting me every step of the way. He's now lovingly dubbed DadBro.

Living with Andrew and being adopted by him is the best thing that's ever happened to me. There's no screaming, no shaming, no being punished for eating, no abuse, no gaslighting, no passive aggressive comments, nothing. We're binging some shows together, and on Sunday mornings before I go to a local queer church, we make eggs and coffee and have breakfast together as a special weekend thing since he works on Saturdays and I usually leave for class before he's awake during the week. We have an extensive record collection and frequently hang out and listen through albums, and he's been trying to reparent me and help me unlearn unhelpful thought patterns and learn better ways to be. This usually includes us laying on the couch in pajamas and watching Bluey or movies for my inner child while he scratches my head and lets me lean into him for comfort. He's very generous with his affection, and I don't need to earn it or cure cancer for him to tell me he's proud of me, something that was very difficult with my bio family. In November, I'll be spending my first thanksgiving with his (our, now) family. I have a safe, warm home and a dad who makes me feel worthy and loved. What a lovely little life I have these days.

TLDR: I came from an abusive family and was thrown out last year for being trans. I moved in with a father figure/big brother friend, and he adopted me, and my life has been the most amazing gift ever since.