Mirrors... I think I have some bizarre love/hate obsession with them. I look in them more than is healthy, I think.
When I'm down, when things seem bleak, I'll look in the mirror and despair. I see... something. In my mind, I cannot see myself as male but neither can I feel truly female. I'm something in between--a tired lost one, teetering on a razor's edge of hope, searching for the solution.
But other times, I gaze into the mirror and I see the glimmers of possibility. While the image is only faint, it holds fleeting visions of potential: something to latch my dreams onto. And I begin to wonder... dare I hope? And should I find the strength to sow the seeds, just maybe I'll be able to nurture my dreams as they blossom into reality. Then when I step back into 'now', I am reminded that this is me no matter what I look like or what others think, and I can never again put the genie back into the bottle. I am not a man or male, and never was. And though in my mind, I know I am not quite on the other side yet, I can make my way. After all, as the feminist Simone de Beauvoir once wrote, "One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman." And for me, that will be true in more ways than one.
~Kaitlyn