I first knew I was transgender when I

was 12 and I looked down at my chest one day

and saw something other than a flat expanse

of skin staring back at me

and I wondered why

since I still really didn’t understand the difference

between boy and girl

why my ***** hadn’t come in yet



But that’s a lie

it wasn’t that sudden or dramatic

it happened earlier than that

but back then I didn’t even know

what transgender meant

all I knew that

when my friend and I were in the bath

and he pointed at his ***** and then asked

to see mine

I didn’t have anything to show

and I ran out of the bathroom

crying hot tears of jealousy



I didn’t know what transgender meant

until last year

and I was so happy because I had found a word

that described the tomboy haircut and the

scabby knees and the ripped jeans and the

worn out Chuck Taylor’s

besides it’s just a phase

you stupid silly girl



When I look down at my body

never naked

always fully clothed

because I look better in layers

and see the soft flesh sitting on my chest

the useless lumps that will never nourish a child

because I’m too afraid to bring a defenseless child into

this ****** up world

all I feel is hatred

and sadness

and a deep sense of longing to have nothing

but a flat chest

flatter than a binder can give me



Now I embrace this word

label myself because I have to

speak out and loudly correct people when they

use the wrong name and say she instead of he

because I am not a girl

I never have been

I was just born without the right genitalia

and I know that somebody would be able to

find my woman’s body beautiful

with the stretch marks

the scars

the fat and cellulite

but I do not find this cage beautiful

and all I want to do is break free

and maybe drink a fifth of *****



I do not look like a boy

but that is who I am inside

and one day I will pass as a boy

scarred cosmetic instead of statistic

a smile instead of a handful of pills

shirtless instead of new scars

flat chested without a binder

and maybe double digits



I will stand up straighter

no longer hunched over from the weight

of my shortcomings and insecurities

I will smile

and not just because I’m imagining my funeral

but not because I will be dead

but when the time comes

and I am laid to rest

two feet wide and six feet deep

I will not be misgendered

the wrong name will not be placed on my tombstone



And I still have bad days

when I want to relapse

and go back to the pills

but I just remind myself that I will

pass one day and I will no longer have

to tell my teachers

friends

counselors

therapists

strangers

my name and pronouns

they will look at me and assume boy

because I will be what my insides say

my light will finally shine through

and I am going to be around to see this

ugly butterfly break out of his cocoon

and greet the world with a smile

that will not be forced