4:44 | 5.21.2021

i thought i could, with enough time, grow to love my body, grow to love the curves, my hips, maybe even my breasts.

i thought that because i was blessed with an able body, a healthy body, a beautiful body, that the fault lied with me. that the disconnect was somewhere in my head and heart. that i just didn't love myself enough. that i just needed to step away, and pour the love into me as i am.

i have come to see that isn't necessarily it.

and coming to terms with the buried feelings, the ones that i don't want to have but do, has been the hardest part for me.

the shame that i let myself live in the closet for so long, whilst doing nothing for my inner child.

the guilt that i could have come out sooner, had i known. had i not been clocked before i was ready.

the regret that i hadn't addressed it, instead procrastinating my own progress out of fear of being rejected. fear of being isolated.

the fear of what the world might do to me, because i am trans. the fear that my body will never look like i want it to. the fear that it is too late for me to obtain the existence in this lifetime that i want.

these feelings don't take into account the hope. the vast world of possibility. the importance that the will to change has. the levity of will to propel action.

am i allowed to demand respect, do i need to demand it in order to receive it, or is it enough to quietly change my name on socials? can i simply post about expanding the pronouns i am comfortable with, or do i need to have conversations individually? is it rude to correct people when they misgender me, because every time it chips away a little, at the fragile structure i am tentatively uncovering beneath the dust and the layers of myself?

i am afraid of a lot of things. i am afraid of letting life pass me by, and standing around idly waiting for change, of the way strangers stare at me when i travel - trying to unravel the mystery that is my assigned sex at birth, of the way the world feels entitled to steal the lives of my trans siblings, simply because they were brave enough to live their truth.

i am reminded of the violence i was shown growing up, the tragedies and trauma that struck those who were bold enough to come out. those who were strong and fearless enough to speak up and live as they knew they deserved to. i am reminded of matthew shepherd and hillary swank in boys don't cry.

i am reminded of how every strangers stare made me feel judged, analyzed, picked apart and put back into a box i didn't quite fit into. i am reminded that people will always stare. people will always have opinions. nothing i say or do will change that, so why allow their existence to interfere with my resistance of standards and expectations?

i am reminded that for every single sibling stolen, it is for them that i must rise up and be emboldened by my truth. be reassured, that i am valid. that my existence is valid. that i am allowed to present, and exist in this world, in this lifetime, as i feel most comfortable. as i feel most me.

what has been getting me, is my personal need to find the why. the unearth the cause to the effect. to trace back my steps, and see what precise formula led me here. shaped my perception of not only self but gender applied. was it the fact that i am more likely than not a result of the one-child policy in china? (a rule in which had i been born male, i would probably have had a very different existence) was it the fact that i've always noticed the difference in the treatment of men and women within the jewish community? within every community really #patriarchythings was it that the first girl i ever Loved, like really Loved, chose a boy over me? was it that my father called me the son he never had when we'd play catch, but the moment i painted my nails "became his daughter" - and everything changed?

why couldn't i have continued to play catch, with painted nails? why didn't we continue building robots together? legos? train sets?

why did archaic ideas of gender roles get in the way of what could have been?

and why am i still letting a slew of regrets from the past haunt me, and plague my present?

am i going to continue letting a view that only sees the shadows, consume my mind?

no.

i am proud. i am strong. i am brave.

i am astute. i am beautiful. i am me.

i do not need an audience to write. my thoughts are valid enough to stand alone.