When you meet a person the first instinct is to know their name,
A proper noun to represent them as a whole,
A name can define you,
And make you a person, not just a being.
So when people ask my name, why is it that I am so pained to admit it?
The name I was given at birth,
my dear loving parent had picked out so carefully from all the rest,
why must it hurt so much to admit?
Why can't I appreciate my name?
Why don't It feel like it is my name?
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, you're weak, I can tell, so cry on your knees
"Such a pretty name" they say,
"It suits you so well" they say,
But it makes me sick to my stomach,
I just want to hurl those letters into oblivion,
A garbled mess from which I can reform who I am.
Reform my name.
And my father wonders why I wear thick jumpers in the summer,
My mother looks concerned when she sees my lack of breath,
From the construction of the 4 sports bras on my chest.
And from her lips slips that horrid name.
And it's like I can breathe even less.
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, you're weak, I can tell, so beg in your knees
My aunt wonders why I cut my pretty hair,
My grandad thinks it's weird that I won't wear a dress,
I don't get why "God" is angry when clearly it's just them,
I thought he taught us to love each other?
Does this rule not apply to me?
"A loving daughter" yeah right;
Just you wait and see.
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, disgusting, revolting, now spout me your plea.
My sister tries to be supportive but I can tell she doesn't get it,
My mother doesn't mention it,
My father hardly looks at me.
But they don't understand the joy I felt,
When I took that first injection.
My hormones set on fire,
My blood set a light,
And for once in my life-
My body started to feel right.
My name is dysphoria, you should answer to me, disgusting, revolting, a girl in boys clothing.
And yeah, my family might not use my new name,
But it's on my driver's license,
My passport,
My soul,
And finally I was excited to introduce myself to people.
Finally I was happy to exist,
I was happy to be me-
A boy at last.
With a real name: Rory.
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 7:05 AM UTC
When you meet a person the first instinct is to know their name,
A proper noun to represent them as a whole,
A name can define you,
And make you a person, not just a being.
So when people ask my name, why is it that I am so pained to admit it?
The name I was given at birth,
my dear loving parent had picked out so carefully from all the rest,
why must it hurt so much to admit?
Why can't I appreciate my name?
Why don't It feel like it is my name?
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, you're weak, I can tell, so cry on your knees
"Such a pretty name" they say,
"It suits you so well" they say,
But it makes me sick to my stomach,
I just want to hurl those letters into oblivion,
A garbled mess from which I can reform who I am.
Reform my name.
And my father wonders why I wear thick jumpers in the summer,
My mother looks concerned when she sees my lack of breath,
From the construction of the 4 sports bras on my chest.
And from her lips slips that horrid name.
And it's like I can breathe even less.
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, you're weak, I can tell, so beg in your knees
My aunt wonders why I cut my pretty hair,
My grandad thinks it's weird that I won't wear a dress,
I don't get why "God" is angry when clearly it's just them,
I thought he taught us to love each other?
Does this rule not apply to me?
"A loving daughter" yeah right;
Just you wait and see.
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, disgusting, revolting, now spout me your plea.
My sister tries to be supportive but I can tell she doesn't get it,
My mother doesn't mention it,
My father hardly looks at me.
But they don't understand the joy I felt,
When I took that first injection.
My hormones set on fire,
My blood set a light,
And for once in my life-
My body started to feel right.
My name is dysphoria, you should answer to me, disgusting, revolting, a girl in boys clothing.
And yeah, my family might not use my new name,
But it's on my driver's license,
My passport,
My soul,
And finally I was excited to introduce myself to people.
Finally I was happy to exist,
I was happy to be me-
A boy at last.
With a real name: Rory.