I Remember When I Was Younger

I remember when I was younger

Preaching before god's children.

I alluded to the possibility

That god might be a sinner.

"To be capable of sin

Is to be guilty of sin"

And Jesus Christ

Was tempted to sin.

Indeed

god said we switched places.

If I were a sinner damned to god

Then god was damned to sin.

I exalted free and clean

Having never been guilty in any case.

I am allowed to have bad days

Or weeks.

Even if I know who I am

It does not exempt me from all the problems I have had.

Life still hits me

And sometimes it hurts pretty bad.

This does not erase my identity

Or mean that I am wrong.

I am happy in the knowledge

Of who I really am.

I am simultaneously sad however

About the other parts of my life

Which are not going so well.

This poem is more for me

Feeling guilty over feeling sad.

As if those in my life who don't want me to be true

Will use my hardships as "ah ha! Gotcha!" moments.

Life is hard

Regardless of my sense of self.

One of these days

I want a love and I to visit the park

Recline on trees

And read.

No words

No need

Just peace and the breeze.

Gentle caress

Light touches

Basking

Alive in the sun.

This is the first year I have experienced International Women's Day as an aware trans woman. Spent it pretending to be a boy at work, the last vestige of my old life. It is a strange feeling sometimes. Just, the idea of being woman. Ever since I was a small child, I have been drawn to it. This nature within me I couldn't express or understand, I couldn't even comprehend it. Didn't even get a chance until I was well into my twenties, and even then I couldn't ever quite get there until 30 was literally dawning over the horizon. I was consumed by an envy I didn't recognize, and it's presence permeated the whole of my life.

Gender wasn't real to me as a kid, everyone just was, but I enjoyed playing as a mother. I remember convincing my little brother to play house with me when I was 6 years old, and when I was 8 pretending to be the mother of a baby gorilla plushy I had received on my birthday. My own mother was always an inspiration to me. She had the strength to take on the world, just to keep me safe. She was meek and kind, and quite literally didn't know how to hate anyone. She kept me safe. When men were cruel she stood in the way. When my dad would beat her, she'd keep him away from me. When I struggled she was there for me, and when I woke screaming from nightmares it was she who would hold me till the night grew calm. Neither of us could have understood what was transpiring inside of me, but without her I don't know if I could have made it in life, and I definitely wouldn't be as strong as I am today.

I am lying here crying thinking about it. My mom is my greatest supporter. She still slips up and calls me the wrong name sometimes, and we get a laugh as I call her out in humorous ways, but she has literally been my defense through it all, coming out for me to all those I didn't care to or lacked the courage to face down directly. I learned how to be a strong woman from her. Even if neither of us ever knew it, she raised me from birth teaching me in the ways. She taught me how to shave for crying out loud, when puberty started ruining my mental well-being. She always told me I was beautiful, and this is something I can never repay. She is quite possibly one of the greatest people I have ever known, and even now as 30 year old pubescent woman grappling with hormones and the future, I can still depend on my mother to help me get through the hardest days and the terrible nights.

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.

I want to be loved