While I would love to completely be on board with the Women’s March, I unfortunately cannot, because I am trans.
As an individual, living and breathing in this moment, I do not necessarily care how I personally fit into the branch of womanhood. I additionally do not feel envious of ciswomen who have vaginas, nor do I feel left out, as some like to describe us. I am proud of my body, and it makes me angry when someone asserts that my reservations about the March must come my obvious shame.
What I do care about is the regressive language of the Women’s March. And before a ciswoman comes in to shoot me down: Yes, I understand that reproductive rights are at risk, and yes, I understand that Pussy is the word behind the March because of what the President of the United States said when bragging about the sexual assault he has committed.
Women are not just Pussies and Uteruses: to define them as such is incredibly regressive to everyone.
Continue reading “Drop the Binary: Trans Thoughts on the Women’s March”
I warn you now because I am about to talk about myself in great detail. Leave this place while you still can.
When I was in high school, I would always do a Big End of the Year Discussion with myself, where I would pace outside my parents’ condo for hours, talking about myself and analyzing how I changed. This is a routine that faded away as time went on and at first, I thought it was because I was getting older and that my self reflections were immature.
The reality was that I wasn’t analyzing anymore because there was nothing to say; I had stopped evolving.
Continue reading “New Year, New Me(atwad)”
I binge watched Transparent Season 1 at the tail end of 2014. In that moment, I was a pre-everything transgirl who had finally passed the point of no return, a person who identified so strongly in her heart with being trans that coming out had become a Doomsday Clock. I was a girl struggling to grow her hair out, hair that would make the Peter Parker from Spider-Man 3 proud. And I was a girl ready to open up the floodgates.
Every night for a week, I would curl up on the couch, laptop directly in front of my face, and watch the show. I had never felt so seen before in my life. Even though the show was obviously engineered to appeal to as many people as possible, it felt like the show was in direct communication with me. Like it wanted me to stand up and change my life.
When I watched Season 2, I was a transgirl who was used to changing behind dumpsters to avoid outing myself to friends I wasn’t ready to tell yet. It was at this time that I realized that this show wasn’t about me; it was about an incredibly wealthy white Jewish woman who doesn’t have a care in the world.
Continue reading “My Journey Growing Apart from Transparent as a Transwoman”
Coming out, very unfortunately, is everything. You don’t want it to be. But it is.
Because you are probably exposing someone to something that they don’t want to understand.
“I wouldn’t expect that,” isn’t hurtful on its own.
But unfortunately, it is a micro-aggression, whether they like it or not, and it says “This thing you are isn’t even on my radar for me to think about.”
It is crushing.
But even worse than that?
Continue reading “Come Out, I Love You”
It was the night Alyssa Liston humiliated Katrina Gawain in front of the whole cafeteria over her total “lessy crush” on her.
Not really a good night for crime fighting, but hey, you win some, you lose some, and then you end up recreating the iconic image of a vigilant crusader perched atop a gargoyle.
Cape softly fluttering in the wind with the perfect flair of drama, flapping almost too in tune with the popularized image of the watchful crusader.
Car horns and sirens overcame the soundscape below. Thousands of little yellow squares pasted on each building were a gateway to thousands of stories.
Yet the sting of Alyssa Liston hadn’t gone away quite yet.
Continue reading “Let’s Go Be True”
Naked flesh on the mattress pad
Nether regions glowing a soft red
‘Neath the warm autumn glow through the sheets
I should love myself right now I think
Yet before anything even happens
A throbbing pain like a split nerve
Sticking to the sharpie stained finger is
A droplet of red
A year on estrogen and spironolactone
Has made me so ugly
A body trying to be
Continue reading “Transition”
Direct sequel to Binding but this makes sense as a standalone.
I knew I was doing the right thing.
I just wish it didn’t have to hurt so much.
It was strange, hidden in the heavy rain, body wound tight like a cat about to pounce, watching the mobsters and gangsters move across the oil platform. It was my first time I would be doing anything like this, yet my mind couldn’t escape the fact that I had hurt someone.
The Suit wasn’t made for me; it was made for the world. We, as a team, wanted to save the world, so we designed a suit that could protect anyone no matter the cost.
I stole it because he scared me. There was this look in Hector’s eyes that didn’t seem right. This greed, this insatiable thirst for something he was too scared to say out loud, and of course I understood that. I wanted things for the world too.
Continue reading “Baby”
It was Ice Cream Day and everyone in the high school cafeteria had been treated to delicious ice cream, and this warmed Donnie’s heart so much that he secretly cried in front of the lunch lady as she ladled it to him. But his tears quickly turned to dismay as he realized that he only had one scoop.
He was a big guy and for his tremendous gut to be taken care of, he would need two scoops. But he didn’t want to say anything and make a scene, so he shuffled along with the other students.
Five minutes into lunch, Donnie forgot about his quarrel with the cafeteria staff, partially because he was dimwitted and forgetful, and partially because he was incredibly out of touch with his feelings.
Donnie liked lunchtime because he didn’t really have to talk or think or do anything really. He could just shovel food into his face and not even care. Because when he was with the boys, he was the King of the Cafeteria.
Continue reading “Two Scoops”
This is the 50th post on this blog so I decided to put together a self-reflection piece on where I am in life right now. A bunch of my old characters show up but you can read it out of context. If there’s an underlined thing, that means it’s a link to that character’s story.
My depression hit me really hard this year and if it wasn’t for some of my wonderful friends and this blog here, I don’t think I’d be alive. Honestly.
So thank you so much for being part of this and I really hope you enjoy it. Continue reading “Katrinick”
I found a stray kitten wandering outside my apartment complex
She was so curious and pawed at everything her little body would allow
Climbed to places I would never dare
Even though they were just two feet off the ground
Something in me was struck
So I tried to save her
I followed her around, coaxing her to get into this box
So she could be warm and safe that night
And failed and watched her fade into shadow
And had nightmares about her safety
Continue reading “A Kitten Named Ariadne, She Died, She Died”