My Trans Life…

So lately I have been thinking about me and being transgender and what that means to me. In fact a lot. It is hard not to think about it as of late as it seems to be the only thing that ever gets talked about or recognized. I would like to say a few things about this. To all.

I don’t know how many times I have been told that I should be proud that I am transgender. I should be proud of coming out. I should be proud that I “pass” as a woman. Can I say that being transgender just fucking sucks?

At least when I wasn’t out, it was mine. Mine to hold. Mine to protect. Mine alone. Now that I am out I have lots to worry about. Let me say that this isn’t a fad. This isn’t trendy. This isn’t cool. This isn’t just something to be. It’s hard. And it’s hell. And more often than not, it is not full of unicorns, sunshine, daisies, and rainbows. It isn’t always successes and wonderful transition photos.

No, it’s the sleepless nights. The endless thinking about my fears. It’s the wondering if I should and can or will use a public restroom. Or which restroom should I use. It’s the constant reminders of my childhood past and how I was treated horribly.

It’s the having to constantly come out to medical providers, insurance providers, bosses, coworkers, therapists, program coordinators, lovers, new friends, strangers, practically everyone I meet. It’s about being asked all the time “how did you know and when.”

It’s about being asked what’s between my legs rather than what’s in my heart and mind. It’s losing family because their religious beliefs and personal opinions view me as a sin, an abomination, a freak, an outcast, a loser, a mistake.

It’s looking into my parents eyes as a child and seeing their disgust, disapproval, shame, guilt, and embarrassment.

It’s the acceptance of my cis friends who mean well and think it’s cool but don’t have an inkling of what I go through or what i’ve been through the last 26 years of my life. It’s the confusion of maybe dating men because they get concerned that they will be considered gay for dating a trans woman.

It’s dealing with the butterflies and anxiety in my stomach when I have to show my ID and my appearance doesn’t match the documents. It’s the realization that I will never have the financial or insurance status to get the painful surgeries to transition my body into a woman physically, so I can at least feel a sense of comfortability in my own damn skin.

It’s the cold hard truth of waking up every morning in a body that was never mine to begin with and looking in the mirror and being disgusted and disappointed by what I see because it does not match how I feel on the inside. Or by the lack of cleavage or hips and the sound of my voice that always gives me away even if I am all dressed up in female attire. It’s about being stuck in the middle between my birth sex and my authentic gender. It’s about having to go through puberty and childhood again, but this time at lightning speed with no guidance but my own experience and insight. It’s about being reborn and having to grow up again because I never really was out in the first place to begin with because I got stuck with a family, that no one can choose, who disowned me and devalued my worth as a girl.

It’s about going out everyday in this evil fucking world knowing I will never be safe or secure because I had a family and have a society that taught me and continues to teach me that their opinions and views of me are more important than my own. It’s the worrying about the creeps that may want to feel me up or hit on me to see if I have all the parts to match. It’s the constant hypervigilance of those haters that want to really hurt me or kill me for being transgender because it so happens. It’s always going out with my knife and pepper spray ready to stream as to feel some sense of safety and protection.

It’s about the never ending and repeating of facts by society that tell me why I am not a woman and never will be. It’s being told that I don’t have ovaries or fallopian tubes or a vagina or eggs therefore I can’t give birth to a baby. It’s the knowing and constant realistic and biological reminder that yes I don’t have the parts to have a baby. Therefore I will never be able to give birth to my own baby, my own child, my own blood. And know what it is like to have a beautiful person growing inside of me and to be so close to someone for 9 whole months and watch my tummy grow and be so proud of such an experience and a blessing. It’s knowing that I will never be a true mom in society’s or the world’s eyes. It’s being told that I don’t menstruate or don’t have periods so I can’t know what it is to be a woman.

It’s the objectification and worrying about why men look at me like a sex object and thing they have every right to lok at me like that and just degrade my humanity and womanhood. It’s the looks and comments from cis women or cis men and the feeling of disgust and hatred from the two things. It’s being called a monster, freak, whore, cunt, wannabe, fake, tranny, fag/faggot, queer, sex offender, sinner, gay, mother fucker, etc.

It’s the always to having to have my heart guarded and guard up because I know I can’t afford to be viewed or considered weak or vulnerable. It’s the self-loathing and constant hate for my body and self because I was taught to hide my true self and that I should be ashamed of that.

It’s having to build a whole new support network through social media and LGBTQ programs to replace the lack of acceptance from those I had loved or had a fucking responsibility to love and accept me because that is what a mother and father are supposed to do for their child. It’s not so much about others’ acceptance as it is the struggle to love myself when my family and the world continues to tell me otherwise.

There I finally said it. It’s all out. In a nutshell. This is just one small part of who I am as I am made up of so much more. This is nothing to glamorize. Because when you really get down to it, I and others like me have some battle or fight or hell or obstacle that we have to go through just to be the people we have always known ourselves to be that many know nothing about. While dealing with the same, daily, regular, life stressors as our peers in our lives. So to all, be kind and gentle and compassionate to one another. Because in the end, we are all human and have some battle we are all fighting that we or you know nothing about.


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