“Sergeant Jessica Hawkins was a male cop for 20 years but it was not until her transition to a woman in 2014 that she understood the trepidation that transgender women feel across the United States.”
“‘Punishment is not something that happens to bad people. It happens to those who cannot stop it from happening. It is laundered pain, not a balancing of scales.’ —Porpentine Charity Heartscape, ‘Hot Allostatic Load’”
“It is inevitable. For some of us it takes half a lifetime to figure out who we are. We sort it all out. We come out. We tell the entire family and everyone we know that we are transgender. Finally! It is happening. Transition begins. Up on the pink cloud we go, where everything is new and shiny. Experiencing life for the first time really. It is a surreal feeling. Not really knowing what lies ahead. But it is inevitable. At some point, we all hit a wall. We all hit many walls to be exact.”
This weekend, The New York Times published an opinion piece that, on its face, attempted to portray both sides of country’s debate over transgender inclusion. In doing so, it took for granted all of the false assumptions made by opponents of transgender equality, doing nothing to debunk them, and thereby reinforcing them.
“After he robbed her at gunpoint, Larissa’s attacker texted her to say that no one would care about what happened to a black transgender woman in Alabama.”
As usual with posts such as this, I have no idea of what to say or even where to start. My internal monolog is a hodge podge of emotions and thoughts which skitter this way and that in no logical order.
I suppose it doesn’’t matter really, how I got from one point to another as long as I get there. Sometimes through, I get lost in the middle, left wondering in the wilderness of my doubts and fears like the Israelites in the desert.
Now it is trying to understand how I can be so sure of my feelings, my fragile sense of self, while being bombarded daily by a physical form which lays bare a truth I cannot deny and still consider myself sane.
For as long as I can remember I never felt I belonged. That who everyone… who I thought to be was wrong. Somewhere, somehow I ended up in the wrong place, the wrong life. I could never seem to find just what was wrong, what was missing. Every time I reached out to touch it, it would slip from my grasp… I once read about true names, the secret name we all carry in our hearts which contain our essence in a single word and I thought long and hard about what it might be until I found one which exploded deep in my heart. One of the rules of course is your not suppose to tell anyone your true name because of the power it holds but I simply don’t care anymore… I have held it inside too long…
I know I have chosen Kira as my public name, but when I sleep… Erin is the name I hear whispered in my ears.
Does this mean I am a woman any more than standing in front of mirror, doing everything physically possible along with wishing with all my heart to be a girl turned me into one… at least on the outside.
Does wanting to be seen as a girl when I was a teen, wanting to be more than seen, to be accepted as female down to my bones… Looking through catalogs being envious of the bodies of the girls who were becoming women while mine turned into something else… does this make me a woman now? Does it qualify me as a Trans woman at least?
Does spending weekend after weekend wondering if I could somehow walk into society being seen as a woman… Of spending hours working out all of the things I needed to pass… Does this verify my womanhood?
Or do they give insight into my madness?