I offer this in the hopes that it give others hope to keep walking and hold their heads up high
An allegory of the Non binary genderqueer trans life, just one of many lives, all different, but many parts the same.
Satinjoy the fairy woke from her slumber, a slumber of peace. She had not dreamed the succubus last night, that creature who comes to make love in our dreams, and the succubus is the wrong gender for her anyway, she prefers males in her dreams, not females. Part of the strange duality of her needs.
She wakes and heads to the mirror, after grabbing her wig first to soften that initial shock of dysphoria. Reaching it she began doing what she must daily to maintain her life, for she decided long ago not to sacrifice the world of the cis for her world, for the sake of her loved ones that are cis.
Looking in the mirror she felt the familiar emotions of seeing what she does not wish to see first. She pauses, breathes, refocusses. She allows her female components to override the male, she allows herself to see the beauty in her eyes, those womans eyes that are always present, windows into the world of her soul, and deeper into her core being. Then moving out, she takes in that which is girl, ignoring that which is not.
Inevitably she sees the mask she wears for the needs of the ciswoman she loves so dearly. The mask she always wore, from the begining, worn because of the fear of rejection early on, with no training of how to be authentic and courageous. The ciswoman is straight, it is difficult, but it works..... So she looks at the mask and forces the core to see it, not see past it as she does so often, but see it as the handsome man the ciswoman married. The fairy decided long ago not to murder that man, in dysphoric rage and selfish need, but to validate him, and he is her protector nonetheless, well able to protect in the hostile land of the wilderness of the Cis.
The she allows the man to see the girl, to see the body now bare before the mirror, midtransition as she is.
It is her time of the week, she takes up the elixer of life for her, a needle filled with the nector of transition, and she does what she must with it to fix the endocrine system she was born with, a birth anomoly to be understood, and repaired. Soon she feels the familiar euphoria and peace that comes with estrogen supply, her brain easily aborbing the food, colors brightening in her starved eyes, feeding on that which is needed for transition, her emotions, and her basic physical needs and wiring.
She suits up for hte day ahead. From her sanctuary, she must emerge. She will walk the daily tightrope of trans.
She steps out of her treehouse to a long, diamond encrusted tightrope, on the other side of which are the cliffs of cisworld. This is actually not a place in the forest, it is a portal to another world, one in the fairy's house, she does not know if there are others.
Undetected but ever present, some of the creatures of the forest watch. Some hold their breath, they know the fairy well, and the trans of the city look in fear and concern at where she is, sometimes comprehending the need for journey, sometimes wonder why she would ever leave the forest. A shadow, the shadow, becomes alert. They will be there if she falters, they always know where she is.
She steps out on the diamond encrusted tightrope. Her feel are calloused, and she spreads her wings wide so that she does not fall. She cannot fly over, such is the nature of her personal portal, she must walk the walk. Today is isnt bad.
Sometimes the wind rises, blowing from the cis world. She balances carefully. Sometime she calls to the forest for help, and they stand in gap, keeping her from falling...
In the middle of hte tightrope waits the ciswoman, coming halfway out to meet her, she is a woman of courage and love, never to be cast aside.
Sometimes the ciswoman speaks, and she says the wrong thing. The fairy wobbles and rises above it. Sometimes, the wind blows hard, and the diamonds begin to cut deeply. She puts one foot in front of the other, daring anyway. She resolutely lifts her face to the sun, eyes fixed on Him, for it is the suns strength that carries her through, and ignites the fire in the diamond of her core.
Twice on this journey she had faltered, twice she froze on the rope, unable to think, frozen in time. The succubus once waited such a moment out with her, for which she will be forever grateful, as did the woodelf that showed her a way out of hte city of the binary tranz.
Once, not long ago, darkness covered the sun. The Ciswoman did not believe the fairy could keep walking, and on the other side of hte wilderness, wanted her gone, the same day on her job where she is almost stealth,a brutish cisman threatening to destroy all she had, in hatred of her core, and the threat it poses to his reality. It was too much for anyone to withstand.
She could not get back to the forest that night, nor for a week of nights, but the folk of the forest were watching, and the elf and the shadow knew where she was. Far below, on the jagged rocks, stood a large green warrior of the trans city, her arms out ready to catch the fairy if she fell to the ground, and carry her to a safe place. She always watches that walk. She retreated into herself, and the elf and the shadow went after her, not allowing her to give into the darkness, and passing messages to the forest creatures, who held their breath in deep concern.
Eventually the wind died down, and the fairy came back to the forest, stronger, more resolute, knowing what she must do.
For the tightrope on one side is dysphoria, a place of hell for the fairy, and on the other is full time transition, with all its costs and all its pain, and its freedom. Its price is everything the fairy holds dear in life, she will not pay, she will walk the tightrope, cutting her feet, and living in joy.
As she walks, from the sun comes hope, and she begins to assemble her body armor, starting to blend. Early on she meets her wife the ciswoman, when she is barely hidden, body dimly revealed, blatantly so below the waist, but her hair is off, the head is male. Her transitioned chest she will hide from her forever. It is what must be.
By the end of the tightrope transformation is complete, it looks like a man, something strange about his eyes, something not male, and if they look for any length of time, the nails remain, polished and shining like the sun, 4 mm from the fingertips, statements in the cisworld that will not be hidden, will never be ashamed, for she is of the world of trans, and she will not bow down to the cis.
At sunset she returns on the rope, staying halfway with the ciswoman, meeting her needs, living life and abundantly so, and she ignores the mirrors, they sometimes are disturbing. She is still amazed at the ciswoman, who stays and helps, yet cannot handle her full transition, but she handles so much, not tolerated, but loved, now a part of their lives, part of the feast of marital bliss.
And then the ciswoman, knowing her needs, lets her walk the rope back to the forest, back to santuary, where she regains her hair, dresses again in satin and silk and nylon, always those are with her anyway, just hidden from view in the wilderness of cis, but here, she can be sh'e, all girl, for the moment, authentic, and at peace, yet knowing her core is genderfree, rising above it all and amuzed at the illusions, and her fluid presentation works for her. But in this place of full transition, ignoring the remains of the cisworld disquise, she is complete.
So this is the allegorical life of Satinjoy the fairy. This is the life of the late transition mtf who chooses to be genderqueer, who sees through the binary to the reality of the nonbinary, who takes strength from above to walk below, supported by the forest, loved by a ciswoman, and willing to sacrifice whatever is necessary for the sake of those around her, for her love is deep indeed.
I offer this to bring hope to the others who walk the tightrope, in hopes that they may have courage to continue, to use the validation of both components to see themselves always in the positive and never from the paradyne of dysphoria, and for those who do not understand, to see a vision of another world.
This is only my story, all are unique, all are special, there are many authentic paths in the forest and in the city of tranz. This is only one of them.
Blessings, nails out, heart wide open, and just trying to help, with great love for all here.
