The Alter Of My Work

The alter of my work

I have poured my soul into this

This construct of my own existence.

I have bled through my tears

Crying before the mirror.

The totality of all my exertion

That which I worship above all.

The subtle changes make me smile.

The softness in my legs

The delicateness of my eyes

Smoothing skin freed from rigour

As my muscles let go of false life.

Carried aloft these earthly highs

I recognize myself

And give in

To this vision from my dreams.

Walking out

I feel all eyes on me.

Not in the way I always dreamed

But as if I were a wicked thing.

Some abomination accursed of god

Defiant

Apostate

Resolute before all creation.

I feel scared,

Naked,

Raw,

Some tiny thing in the middle of a field

As the wolves do prowl.

Before,

I'd have run away.

Locked myself in my room

Hiding who I was.

I'd have cried

Loathing how wrong I felt

How off my body was

To the vision I held in hope.

Not now.

Yes I am scared.

Yes

I get nervous

But I don't care any more.

I want to dress how I want to dress

Flaunt the beauty I recognize in me.

Show too much leg

Wear sheer blouses

Take pride in my curves and lack there of.

I want to live and love freely in the open.

Be seen and acknowledged as existing.

I have already spent years hiding from myself.

I'm done giving in and lying down.

.

And each day it gets easier.

Not that the struggle loses its bite.

I just love myself more

Take pride in myself more

And grow steadily more incapable

Of ever settling again

I want to be loved

7 years ago I started challenging the notions of my gender and sexuality, terrifyingly exhilarated by finally understanding who I was. The first picture was taken by my dear platonic partner in 2016. I wanted to see if I could look lovely and she wanted to see me shine. Well, that turned into a difficult year, and over the next several I fell apart and gave myself over to self doubt and dispair. Then 2020 happened. I finally faced it head on, after decades of tossing with my own identity I could no longer keep running from it. Which brings us to this second picture taken just days ago, of me wearing a dress out side of my house for the first time. It has been a hard journey but this brings me joy. Even when my days are convulsed by chaos, being able to see my body changing, to feel myself transforming, it never fails to make me smile. The knowledge of becoming me, after so long hiding from it and loathing myself, I can't even fully describe it. I hope all those out there who are still fighting through that self acceptance all the support and strength my soul can muster, and that everyone fighting through this world to be themselves is raised up. We are all beautiful and handsome and valid in our existing.

I don't dress like a boy anymore.

When I go out I am a girl.

When I speak I am trying to sound feminine.

I aim for a loveliness I have been haunted by,

And now that it is growing

I know new kinds of fear.

I fear the world I live in

What they might do to me.