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A transgirl's confession

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When you wake up in morning and look into a mirror. What do you see? You're probably stating the obvious by answering dully "My reflection." "Well is that all? What if you woke up as somebody else?" I challenge. Imagine how it would feel. See, most normal people unknowingly see a lifetime of memories that reflect who they see, when gazing into a mirror. "That scar from having a few too many to drink that resulted in stumbling into Mike's bonfire" or "Dr. Taylor did a great job on those fillings, they look real!" Everything seems to come together.

For me though the story is quite different. I have the memories sure. "That annoying, yapping dog that attacked my face the night I fell asleep and landed on it while sitting in a chair." The scar is certainly there. But something is wrong. I'm not the person in the mirror. I'm similar in the sense that the scars are where I remember them, but inevitably I always see someone else. It's hard to convey this feeling. When my mind is telling me that what I behold in the mirror is wrong. That every day I'm waking up to a lie. Living in somebody else's body, like a twisted double life. Even if I try to accept that I'm stuck in this flesh. That it will be with me to the grave. It haunts me ever more. Constantly eating away at me piece by piece. When it feels like there's nothing left to take, still it finds more. My soul corroding as despair takes hold. Like a cold I can't shake. It's taking hold of me.
Sure, I can try to ignore it like everyone says. Pretend that everything is really okay when i know it isn't. "I made it this far right?" No..
Living a double life is unforgiving. Especially when your mind and body are polar opposites.

Why my body made a chromosomal mistake is beyond me or my control. Because really, nothing could be further from the truth. I can't enjoy the things other girls enjoy because society doesn't allow it. What happens when a "man" goes into the wrong bathroom, or wears the wrong clothing?? Being ridiculed in public is the common result when not arrested or simply beaten.  I can't share in women's struggles, their pains, or their accomplishments in my state of being without ridicule or worse..

There's nothing like the sting of being called something I'm not. When people confront my mirror self. The gut wrenching feeling of being called a man.. It's simply wrong. Yet nobody see's how greatly they just insulted me and continue on their way in blissfull ignorance as I struggle to contain my emotions.

In an attempt to reach out. I've tried to make my body appear more like it should.  To compensate this feeling and in effort for others to see her residing in me. But ultimately no matter what I do, my body refuses to conform. Nor do the people that surround me seem to understand. Clothing is just impossible. Thus retiring from another dreadful day exhausted.

After living in this torment for so long, waking up in itself is now a nightmare. I grow weary, tear drenched pillows surround me. I wish for change. I wish to be me.

Then there's attempting to face my friends and family. When they themselves can't see the true me trying to shine through this accursed shell. They simply see a man. It's a painful dilemma to fear everyone I love and care about. But it's impossible for them to cope with change when they've "known" the mirror version of me for so long. And to think, all the while i've been like a caterpillar. The real me has been developing.. I've been through denial, self hatred, and definitely so much pain, while shelled in this cocoon. As a butterfly i'm finally ready to fly. Yet to all else I'm still a caterpillar. In fear of fully exposing myself. I fold my wings and hide. To the people I love it would be as though the person they've known all this time was a lie, a traitor, a freak. It's simply not in their ways.. When in reality it can't be helped. I didn't choose this. But it's either be what I am and be free. Or keep bearing the pain until the desire to not wake up becomes stronger then the will to keep putting on this charade.

Sometimes there's a twinkle in the mirror's eyes, her eyes..  A glow in her cheeks. A glimmer of hope... Maybe..  Maybe its just me envisioning a piece of her trying to escape our genetic bindings. But nothing lasts forever and sadness returns to greet me when I find that which had given me so much hope, is now gone. Replaced solely with a yearning for change.. A desire for a better life.

All I want is to be who I am meant to be. To be accepted as an individual who feels, who needs, and who dreams. And to wake up one day and for once, see myself, to see her in the mirror smiling back at me.

Sorry about the length everyone. There was so much more I wanted to say. I will have to finish the other segments in time.  :icon_chick:

That was beautiful.

Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Tessa James:
A mirror can never fully reflect our true beauty, worth, dignity, and value.  As we know, change is the real constant in our lives.  Our capacity to direct or alter our course of change and adapt gracefully (sometimes under fire) is at the heart of personal growth.

We see you, you are beautiful!

Thank you for your support. It means very much to me. :icon_chick:


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