A Recognition of Truth

Three generations of women
a conversation about our lives
our shared feminine experience

But one doesn’t feel as though
she belongs in this discussion
an outcast not recognized

Because she was raised a boy
her identity and reality denied
unable to express her truth

Two women and one erased
no voice among loved ones
an exile in her own home

But she fights to be heard
and her elders turn to listen
unsure but filled with love

Their son becomes a daughter
as a beautiful tale unfolds
a child’s truth now recognized

My Own Reflection

After a shower I stand naked in front of a bathroom mirror
vapor and steam swirling around the enclosed private space
as it conceals all the horrible aspects of my own masculinity.

For once I do not turn away in disgust at my reflected visage
as clouds of water droplets present a much softer appearance
I’m now able to imagine what it would be like to feel feminine.

Unable to see body hair, an adam’s apple, or broad shoulders
and more apparent is the luster and beauty of my supple skin
through the mist I can imagine myself as a vulnerable woman.

At first this brings me shame and guilt in denial and misogyny
but then I come to realize that there is some hope in this image
the desire to accept who I am and grow into my own reflection.

“A Prisoner In My Own Vessel”

I’ve been thinking a lot about a line I wrote in a poem called “Desolate Lands” where I explained that sometimes I view myself as “a prisoner in my own vessel.” I wanted to deconstruct what emotions and thoughts I was processing in that moment. I was struggling with feelings about dysphoria and discomfort with my biological existence, though before I delve into the nuance of trans issues and the relationships we have with our bodies, I want to explain more about the methods I use when I write poetry. To me, the creation of authentic and visceral emotion in my writing requires me to allow my various thoughts to travel through me and my writing instrument to fill the page untethered with doubt for what I’m feeling in that precise moment. This means that I will often return to something I have written in the past and learn that my thoughts and feelings on the topic have dramatically changed. This is the reason that writing is so cathartic for me, because it helps me learn about who I am as a person, deconstruct complicated thoughts, and is as a catalyst for me to process emotion and trauma. Writing is a healing activity that allows me to move forward and understand my experiences.

I think we’ve all heard it before, the overtly common and limited narrative that suggests all trans people feel trapped in their own bodies, or as “prisoners in their own vessels” as I described in “Desolate Lands” no more than a day ago. I understand that there are many trans people who might feel this way about their bodies and that’s valid and real. In fact, I know that this is a feeling I sometimes have about my own body that comes from dysphoria, hence the inclusion of the line in my recent poem, and I’m not here to debate the reality of those experiences, quite the opposite. However, I do really want to emphasize that I don’t always feel this way about my body and that many trans people feel comfortable in their own bodies, and that doesn’t make them any less authentic.

There is a quote from Alok Vaid-Menon who explains that “[they were not] born in the wrong body, [they were] born in the wrong world.” This quote has always resonated with me as I’ve tried to come to understand my feelings towards my body. Alok draws attention to a toxic gender status quo and encourages us to move beyond a “Western colonial system that’s invested in categorizing everything about us.” I’ve realized since writing “Desolate Lands” that I don’t necessarily feel like a “prisoner in my own vessel” but rather lost in an ocean of stereotypes and false assumptions about my body and how this supposedly defines who I am or how I traverse the world. There is no monolithic trans narrative, and we all have unique relationships with our bodies. I agree with Janet Mock when she explains that the “trapped in the wrong body” narrative can inevitably function to “place [us] in the role of victim, and to those who take mainstream media depictions as truth [we are] seen as a human to be pitied because [we are] someone who needs to be saved, rather than a self-determined [human] with agency and choice and the ability to define who [we are] in this society and who [we] will become in spite of it.”