Is putting a knife to my throat
One mistaken word
I hold the danger to be assaulted
As a result the blade slits me open
Can be withdrawing the knife
When people digest
That I am a human
And they respect me
I get asked inappropriate questions as a trans person. People forget to be respectful when you come out. Other times people intend to make you feel uncomfortable. And lastly, some result to violence as a way of disapproval. I try to battle ignorance with peace every time I can. Yet I’m still challenged with the opposite energy.
You don’t have to hate all of your body to be trans
That’s a repeat I have to say every day but you really don’t have to
I like my broad shoulders and my curly sideburns and my singing voice
I like the way my dimples only show when I’m actually smiling and that people on the internet and at poetry readings are honestly happy for me for being out and proud
I love how my exercises have my voice even a little bit deeper and that despite not being on testosterone, I can still feel somewhat okay
I like my creative brain and how I don’t like math but am good at algebra
I like that I got my driving permit test right on one try
I like that I am slowly starting to mute my mother’s comments about my thighs and my driving and my disabilities
Prompt: Explain the story behind a picture from your camera roll
(date of picture taken: August 30th, 2019)
The picture is a simple mirror selfie, but the story has more to do with what I was wearing.
Earlier that day, I went to the mall to shop for my homecoming outfit with
my friend, (REDACTED).
It seems trivial to someone else, I guess, but to me, it was a big deal.
It was because I could drive and because we were at the mall against
my dad's wishes that added to my nervousness of it all.
I went to the boy's section of the clothing store because I'm really short,
and (REDACTED) helped me pick out a suit.
My first suit.
Just wearing the suit jacket, I couldn't help but smile like an idiot.
It was so....right.
I don't know how else to explain it.
It was as if all those little pieces just fell into place and everything felt
For once, everything in that moment felt good and perfect.
I didn't care about the curious looks from the middle-aged moms.
Let's make one thing clear
The future is not female
The future is
*** workers, it's
People of color it's
People with disabilities
THE FUTURE IS INTERSECTIONAL
there are days my body doesn't
hold me close and protect me
there are the days that I am a clay figure
molded by clumsy hands shaped
with curves where there should be flat
a persona of who I am who I want to be
there are the days when I avoid mt reflection
yet want to check to make sure it matches
these are the days when my reflection
matches who I am
my insides twist in disgust and I want to
crawl out of myself
these are the days
my body is a secret I never want to revel
when my steps are unsure and my face is
set to "boy mode"
these are the days that I watch guys and
stealing their walk hoping
I can steal their identity so I don't have to
live my own
these are the days my heart hurts
when I am called her, she
when a pronoun becomes an insult and
these are the days when I wish
my mind wasn't so deadset against my happiness
that I could just "feel" girl
these are the days every day
I look at my chest the way I'd look at a wound
I know its a part of me
I know its there
but it feels temporary
and a little gross
like I sliced my thumb
on glass at 1 am
my binder is a bandage
and it's hard to take off
because the wound will open up
And my back hurts wearing from bandage
But it's so much better than
Seeing where my skin splits in two
There is a boy in my closet
The boy is friendly but stays hidden
When I look in the mirror there he is
I became jealous of who he is
He says he wants to come out
I decided to ignore it
But the curiosity grew bit by bit
Until I could barely stand it
"CUT YOUR HAIR"
But when I went downstairs my unapproving mother stood there
The boy wasn’t at ease with what our plan began to be
Because in reality, the boy was really me
But all people can see is she
That part wasn’t cut out for me
I don’t understand the big deal if I'm a he
You call me
She, her, daughter, girl
You speak with a blind mouth,
Look at me, see me
She isn't me
Only a fantasy that you clutch
I'm not broken, I'm free
You question me every time I show you my truth
"Are you trying to hide your femininity?"
No, my femininity is simply not my definition
Spend a day in my skin, in my cage
And don't cry when the words start to pierce you like daggers.
Shhhh… stay silent, don’t worry its just a phase
Now do you see the "She" just doesn't make sense
You speak to me but your voice seems distant,
Bouncing off and echoing
I’m so humble for my blessings
For what the universe has given me.
When I think about how I was in the closet, I wasn’t living my my life.
I was living someone else’s.
I made pretend to play a character to make others happy.
Once I started living my truth, life progressively became way more enjoyable than before. I had a real smile.
I settled for a life where I’m happy. Not miserable, and I don’t regret any second of it.
Mindfulness. I’m so happy being a few weeks on testosterone.
I’m not afraid to show my skin
I don’t choke with insecurities
I now show my face in pictures
In days gone by, I showed nothing
I walk with my head up
Previously always denying the world
I dress with fitting clothes
I forget what it feels like to hide in fabric
I look at myself, happy with my character
Prior to bleating with ghostly satisfaction
Reminiscing on my transition.