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This Pathological Lie


She said "Some people will never understand the kind of superpower it takes for some people to just walk outside" and some people will never understand the stregnth it takes to walk out they're own Closet doors. Some parents will never understand the lies we hide. It's on the tip of my tongue. I want to be able to shout Mom! I'm Transgender!. and i wanted to hear you to say i know, and that's ok. instead you parade me.. You are a Girl! You are a Girl you are my daughter! No I'm Not. While you spend time hoping for the make-up, the halter tops, my first boy friend My first male prom date, My first... Prom dress, in all its beauty I look in a mirror hating everything i am. I press my hands against my chest praying, that these lumps beneath my hands, would just fade away... be... cut away. I’ve spent the Past 4 years muting the sound of Velcro every time I get dressed. Avoiding Mirrors until I’m fully clothed Painting a facade on my body every morning at 5 am on a School day. binding till i cant breath, wearing t-shirts and swim trunks to the pool Afraid of packing because then, everyone would know my big secret Afraid of being figured out. Afraid that I'll be beat up, bullied, and just afraid. Scared to transition, but, Wanting to so bad. Waiting till the day my sister can call me her older brother, Afraid that I'll loose everything like they did. I sleep in binders, scared of seeing these lumps the call breasts beneath my chin, Boxers to reassure myself that something will appear there when i wake up praying that everything that's not supposed to be there would go away with out the need to sit in a psychologists office explaining to them why you feel the way you feel, so they can ask you..."Are you sure your not lesbian?" "are you afraid of the "L Word'" No I'm not afraid of the "L Word" because I'm not female. I'm Not a girl. I've sat here my whole life standing in front of a mirror Hoping that this pathological lie i call, you call, we call my body would just be fixed to the way it should be. to sit in the office of my family doctor explaining how who i am is not a Disorder, but Misplaced. Mislaid. lost mid-delivery on my way to my original body. Begging for someone to see, that I'm scared of transitioning. Because i fear I'll loose everything. She asked me why I bind my breasts so tight. I couldn’t really answer her. But I guess it’s the only thing that keeps me from falling. I make a wish every night that someone would hold me up, but… It never happens. I’m filled with Hellos, and goodbyes. I’d stand there praying she’ll just be quiet and see the pain in my eyes. Truth is I’m just another guy that Requires assembly.
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This poem is incredible. My best friend is trans* and much of what you've discussed in the poem speaks directly to his experience. I especially love the lines "some people will never understand the strength it takes to walk out their own closet doors" and "Painting a facade on my body..." Never let anyone in this world tell you who you are--only you can identify your place in this world. I truly wish you the best of luck with your transition. I hope you find the courage within you to fight for your right to be you. Keep writing. I look forward to seeing how everything turns out. <3

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