Waiting
Over the years I’ve become very good at one thing in particular, waiting. Waiting to feel comfortable in my own skin. Waiting to feel pretty or beautiful. Waiting to look in the mirror and like or understand what I see. Waiting to feel like my body is truly my own.
And finally, I’ve become closer to that upon realizing I am transgender. I am a boy and my life became infinitely better-and worse-with this information. Better because finally, fucking finally I understood myself. I understood who I was and what I was. I was. boy.
Well then came the next process of waiting. Waiting to gain the courage to come out. That took a lot longer than I had hoped, but I did it. And of course being the sappy loser I am I did it in the mall parking lot of Love, Simon.
Then, came waiting for my family to understand and take action. This didn’t take long as they immediately scheduled me a gender therapist. And I finally met someone who truly understood. Who listended to every word I said and got me and what I was going through. He saw every part of me and not once did he ask, “Well are you sure?” Or, “Just wait a little longer.”
But the worst waiting of all has been waiting for the permission to finally transition. Words surround me though, practically drowning me.
‘Just wait’
‘Let us catch up’
‘This is hard on all of us’
‘It’s not all about you all the time’
‘Stop being so selfish’
But then I heard words that pulled me to the surface.
‘Son’
‘Brother’
‘He’s my friend’
‘Handsome’
‘His name is Jay’
And so I know. I understand how hard it is to wait. How it makes you want to scream and yell that all your LIFE you’ve been waiting. Everyday. Every second. But I promise you-it will not be forever. It seems like an eternity. Finally understanding what’s wrong and knowing-seeing-the solution, and not being able to reach it. But you will. Just hold on a little longer and notice the good little moments. Because you may find waiting just a little more bearable.










