I didn’t intend to share that last post, I was trying to simply add it to my media library to add it to this post 😛

Well, anyway, this was my latest acquisition and is a large part of what set me on this latest round of personal posts. (In case you missed the Band-Aid, that’s the reason for my having posted a music video out of nowhere yesterday. I was working on a new post when I was zapped by static electricity, causing me to smack my hand into the bottom edge of my desk, taking off the skin on one of my knuckles and leaving me to bleed like a stuck pig thanks to very thin skin and blood thinners.)

That being what it is, the real point of talking about all of this is to say, as I did in the beginning, it doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes or how hard you work to try to hide from yourself or to put things into a box so they can be buried in the deepest hole you can dig. Who you truly are in the deepest reaches of your heart will refuse to be ignored, forcing you to face it in ways large and small, usually in moments when your guard is down.

As an aside, I long feared what people would see if I were to move through this world without thinking. To be moving naturally, unconsciously, because those are the moments when your true nature comes out. Male or female, masculine or feminine, your movements and mannerisms, even your expression, conform to the truth inside and people will respond without realizing why. It’s a kind natural lie detector which we use to guess if it’s a man or woman walking in front of us. Not that it’s 100% accurate, but it is almost instinctual and dictates our first response.

As a result I always feared I would be found to be playing a role I was not intitled to, to be seen as a fake, an imposter, even a monster deserving of disgust and rejection.

Fortunately, this hasn’t proven to be true, (at least not to the point where I have felt myself to be in any danger.) In fact, I have often had the opposite reaction, where trying to pass as male has confused people. More often than not they just assume I am female and act accordingly even in situations which have left me dumbfounded (such as when I have gone days without touching a razor and am deliberately presenting as male.) More than once I have just thrown up my hands and declare “I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

Not surprisingly, this has lead to some tense moments with my partner where I have feared she was going to strangle me because I was being so dense.


Yesterday’s post was almost a place holder. There were things I wanted to write about but I was mentally exhausted and couldn’t bring things into focus so I decided to share the one thought which was stuck in the forefront of my thoughts as much because they held a strength I wanted as much as they were an overwhelming truth I couldn’t deny or avoid.

You see, for much of my life I brushed off thoughts, hopes, and dreams because they didn’t fit the narrative I had been taught to follow. Because they seemed so far removed from my reality they could never come true, because following them became too painful.

I’m sure I have spoken of some of the things which have weighed on me over the years, those brief moments of breathless wonder when the words ‘what if’ would blaze across my thoughts. To take the image in my mind and make it a reality. To be who I knew myself to be in the eyes of another and be accepted. To leave the shadows and walk in the sun.

Well, as they say, ‘be careful what you wish for, you might get it.’

This became my stumbling block, my nemesis.

I’ve had my questions answered, curiosity cured. What I found was more than I could have hoped for or imagined and it scared the living hell out of me.

I found peace, happiness, and a piece of myself I felt would never be found. At the same time I found pain, sorrow, and shame. You see, following my heart only lead to hurting others, (or at least this is what I was told time and again.) By doing so I was being selfish, self centered, even cruel. My happiness had to be bought at the price of another’s.

My dreams for theirs.

In this I felt it was better to give up on my own dreams. To crush them as soon as they arose so others could see theirs come true.

Oh, and if they didn’t, well that was my fault too.

What I’ve been asking myself is what happens when I’ve done everything I could to bury every bit of myself, to lock it in a deep hole and try to forget and it keeps coming back? Each time a little stronger, a little more insistent until it refuses to be ignored?

It leaves a person in a difficult place to say the least.

(No, this isn’t an ending, but a beginning.)

~Kira Anne Moore