Not Trans EnoughNo, no I'm not alright.I thought I was okay when I thought I got over them. I thought everything was fine when I thought I knew who I was, but then they come in and tell me who I am and who I'm supposed to be.But low, I'm not even Trans* enough.I'm not Trans* enough because I'm apprehensive about taking T.I'm not Trans* enough because I'm not constantly ogling over girls.I'm not Trans* enough because I like to wear dresses from time to time.I'm not Trans* enough because I don't work out at the gym.I'm not Trans* enough because I like to Sew and Bake.I'm not Trans* enough because I didn't 'come out' when I was 3.I'm not Trans* enough because I'm not out to most people I know.I'm not Trans* enough because I don't pack (and don't really want to)I'm not Trans* enough because I don't have 'bottom' dysphoriaI'm not Trans* enough because my name is gender neutral. I'm not Trans* enough because I've only ever had crushes on guys.I'm not Trans* enough because public washrooms sca
Are you a boy or a girl?This is an interesting question that gets asked a lot usually by children as they are curious and seemingly have no filter but it’s definitely not limited to just them.I can think of several instances in which I have been asked this question throughout my life as well as witnessing others being asked this. I can’t remember myself ever asking this question, not to big myself up or anything, but I know that I did have that dialogue internally.I remember when I was in middle school (grades 7 & 8) and seeing this other student. They looked like they came from an ethnically mixed background, had a sort of tough air around them and often wore their hair in long corn rows. I was never friends with this person as they were sort of intimidating and I can remember sort of trying to figure out whether this person was male or female, without asking them. Of course there were plenty of other kids around the school who did go up to them and ask them directly what gender they were.
Transgender poemThere's a stranger in mirror looking back at me nowI see her face and she looks back at me nowI don't know who she is but it seems so rightI know shes me but shes lost insideOnly when i look in the mirror can i see her real faceShes been lost and scared for too longShe wears a mask to hide from the world of hateShe will be called hateful words like "Fag" and "Freak"She scrams she wants to be freeBut shes scared of what she will seeShe just want's to be like the other girlsWith her little dress and a bowMaybe one day she will be freeTell then she will just look back at me in the mirror