#trans files

[thorinsbeard]

I have a story! Yesterday I went into the Warehouse to see about applying for finance on a laptop. And I had my birth certificate with my dead name, and my new name. Well it got declined (apparently I cannot afford $5 a week??What) but here’s the thing. We had to try my old name and gender to get it working and the lady Trace, apologized to me, for having to do so. It’s nice to know there are people out there who get it. 

[thorinsbeard]

Writing: My life

But it's not just that. I'm in so much pain, constantly. I wake up pale, and feverish, with constant cramps. I eat something and a minute later, my stomach and sides are in so much pain that I wish for mercy.  Most days are spent in my own home, trying to stop throwing up, or other things. Too afraid to go outside. And as soon as I walk even a little, no matter how fit I am, I am tired again. 

Somehow in all of it, I lost myself. Somewhere along the way. I used to be such a brave person, I could go out by myself, I could do my own thing. Now I lack the confidence to even tell my mother something pressing. "I don't want to do this anymore," I want to say. But it hurts to say it. I know I am not the daughter or the son she wants, though, strangely, I feel more like her daughter than ever. 

And I feel okay. I feel my heart swell. I can wear clothes I like again. I can grow my hair out. And it won't matter if anyone calls me either, because as long as I know, I'll be okay. But then there is the road ahead. 

The road is difficult. Full of transitions and pathways, and stupid people. I met this bitchy MTF once upon a time, who insisted I wasn't genuine. And well, girl, I've got news for you. I'm more genuine than I've ever felt. I feel like I can be brave. 

Like this is the best thing I can do for me. Not for anyone else. 

And there will always be my friends, to help show me the way. 

[thorinsbeard]

Writing: Who am I

as I sit here. 

Am I really the person 

who spent four years

transitioning because they 

thought it would make 

all the problems 

magically disappear

into oblivion. 

The more I delve

into the darkness,

the more I discover

who I am. 

I am not going to become

anyone, unless I resolve

the issues, none of which

have to do with gender.

The more I begin 

to realize, that even 

if I stop the treatment, 

I'll still feel the same. 

Like parts of me are 

both girl and boy,

and strangely, 

since I started the T,

the more inclined

to the former I am.

Who am I, 

am I really so afraid

to tell everyone.

It feels like I built up

to nothing,

like I threw my life away.

I just want to relax,

I just want to be me,

even if the transition

wasn't meant to be. 

So now I debate

the name changes,

resorting back to other

names, to other identites

and wonder who I am,

if I'll ever have all the answers

that I seek

on the new path,

a path that i do not

know the final

destination. 

[thorinsbeard]

100 day writing challenge: Foreign

This body feels, foreign to me. 

Almost as if, it doesn't belong to me.

Like someone cruelly sculpted

pieces, where there should be none.

Or left pieces out. 

Like a man, who isn't a man, 

yet there's no denying the fact

that I am one, at least 

inside my troubled mind. 

Fighting for freedom,

fighting for acceptance, 

fighting to hear my dad

use 'my son' instead of my daughter. 

Losing my grandmother,

because she couldn't bear 

the fact she had lost me forever,

in a swift, blink of an eye. 

She hated losing her granddaughter

so much, that she would not use 

my rightful name. 

I know, I'm to blame. 

I have caused them so much suffering. 

I might've killed their daughter, their sister,

but they gained a son, a brother, an uncle. 

You know, thinking on it now, 

I'm not a stereotype of anything. 

I am just me. 

I am the sort of guy, who collects my little ponies,

but won't call himself a brony, 

an artist, a gif maker, a failing roleplayer, 

with anxiety and agoraphobia, 

who can't leave his own house,

because he's too fucking afraid. 

But there is one thing that isn't foreign to me. 

I have come accustomed to this ritual. 

Every two weeks, 

an injection, a real pain in the arse. 

This is what makes me who I am, 

I am no stranger to pain, 

and being patient. 

I've waited long 

enough.