Transgender: Unseen and Invisible
She ran. Her breath ragged and sore in her throat, mouth wide open trying to suck more air. Legs hurting and complaining with every step as she rounded a corner past a big gnarly oak and started uphill, at last! It felt like her entire life had been waiting for this moment. Glancing up, the top of the path seemed to be miles away. She gritted her teeth and put one leg ahead of another. Make it to the next switchback, and then we will see, she promised her aching body.
Her body knew she lied. They would press on.
Words echoed in her head. “If you do this, it’s over. I love you, but I can’t handle more change.” She tried to focus on something else. She wasn’t changing, she was becoming. That is different!
“Damn it!” she thought to herself, “that is not focusing on something else! Do better girl!” She looked up towards the crest, blinking the salt and sweat out her burning eyes. Each step seemed to be a tortured push towards, freedom?
She hated the sweat dripping down her forehead. For every drop in her eyes, there were 10 rivulets in her hair. It had taken two years to grow her hair to barely shoulder length. Shampooing felt great, but it was so hard on her fragile hair. Oh how she wished she had grown her hair when she was younger! You can laugh, but when you grow up as a trans-girl, seen only as a boy and then a man, you can never directly live the experiences as every other girl does. Those few moments of finally feeling normal are more precious than... anything!
She replayed the words in her head, “If you do… over. Love you, but I can’t…” What does it mean? Does she love me? Or does she love her image of me. Did I ever exist?
“Oh God, Saoirse, you’re such a doofus! OVARY UP!” Gritting her teeth, dry lips and hoarse throat, she pushed on, until…
She crested, turned, and saw another climb ahead! “Duck!” she screamed (except it is never a duck)! She regretted the breath expended for the scream on her next step up the hill. Still, she pressed on.
Being a trans woman is DUCK all confusing! People expect you to be a man in spite of knowing who you are. So when you act in any way other than ultra feminine and passive (my GOD, what trope drivel for women), they feel vindicated and satisfied they know you are not really a woman. But GOD forbid that you are bitchy, or strong, or stubborn. Now, suddenly you are fake! Either way, you are less than a man and still not a woman. There are even women who think that you have an unfair advantage and try to trip you or push you down the hill. When that person is your soul mate, even though she supports you in so many other ways, that hurts!
She wonders what will she do? Can she live without her partner? If she does, will she ever reach the crest and finally see the flat or perhaps a gentle downhill? If she should stay with her partner, she will never leave the hill, the crest will remain in her sight but always out of reach. That is the choice that torments her psyche, her soul.
What would you do?
