The moment I died, was the moment I began to live. A reincarnation or maybe perhaps a metamorphosis of some kind. I still wonder how this rebirth came about, yet I have come to realize that it was a destined manifestation. My reincarnation occurred in February of 2012. There was no funeral although there were many tears shed and feelings of sudden sorrow and hurt. There was no celebration of life anew either unfortunately, but I already figured that there wouldn\u2019t have been one. That day, for the first time ever, my spirit had joined in holy matrimony with my evolving physicality. It was similar to the emergence of a butterfly from a cocoon. I was now completely one; mind, body, and soul. I became a special girl, much different from other girls.<\/p>\n
Living day to day in a world, a place, a society became uneasy for me being that I belonged to a certain species of women, transgender women. Although self-content, I felt like an alien in the world around me. Like a mutant from the X-men series, I was special, but I was ashamed of myself. Even though I felt complete, I had trouble accepting myself as a special girl. I was living with fear in a close-minded world. I was a witch during the Salem Witch Trials; a Jew during the Holocaust. I was a strange yet special girl; strange in the sense that I was not the same as most girls, and special because I had a special physicality which was slowly evolving. I belonged to a class of special women, yet the world saw us in a different light. Most people don\u2019t understand my kind due to the prejudices media and society have forced upon them. Among those people were my parents. My mom distanced herself from me for three months; my father, well, he was in Trinidad at the time, and he didn\u2019t care to acknowledge me at all. Who am I? What am I? Why am I? I often feel that I’ve been banished to a cold and lonely world where I am all by myself. In the real world I am a penny on the ground, someone who has little to no worth. In the streets, I am spit at like a peasant or like the ground itself. I am publicly degraded like a worthless inhuman object. People call me “a man,” “a nigga,” “a tranny,” “a transvestite,” etc. Most of the time people can’t tell that I am a woman of transgender experience, unless they find me attractive and try to see through to my soul.<\/p>\n
I have come to learn my place in society as an individual belonging to a species of cursed women. Women who desire to belong and matter and live normal lives. Women who wish to blend into humankind. To pass. Although many of us do indeed pass, myself included (for the most part), passing has its own complications. Passing is like being in the closet. I often find myself trying to hide my trans identity in order to eliminate being the center of negative attention and to protect myself physically and emotionally. I am afraid to leave home if my hair or makeup isn’t up to par or if I am wearing clothes that accentuate the wrong parts of my body.<\/p>\n
I have often felt cursed; never to find true love, or have a family like my sisters. Never able to find stable employment or fit comfortably into society. Passing may defer these things for some time, but the problems never seem to go away. And because of this I am forever internally oppressed. Love and family does exist for some, however, it is rare indeed unless these things are established pre-transition. Although my species of women include straight, bisexual, and lesbian women, I feel attraction towards men only. They are my weakness. I have a misconception of love. I fall in love very quickly because I never had unconditional love. Men charm me with their words easily and steal my heart under false pretenses. They use me physically and abuse me emotionally. In the daytime they ridicule me, and by nightfall they hypnotize me like an incubus and inhabit my flesh. We are often over sexualized and thought to trick men into sleeping with us, but the truth is we search for unconditional love in private and in public alike. We share our secrets with them before laying with them, or else it would be like committing suicide. They pretend to be disgusted with us in public, but in private we become their mistresses, sort of like an inter-racial relationship in the Jim Crow south. I often fall prey to their incubus-like nature. They are demons in disguise with a purpose to annihilate\u00a0 women by preying on their emotionality, something I would never want to be. Internally, I’m just like any other girl. Our spirits unite into a sisterly bond. Yet, my existence is dual by nature, but seen as unnatural in the eyes of the ignorant.<\/p>\n
I learned that no one understands me as much as I understand myself, and therefore I choose to walk alone. Apart from family, apart from friends, apart from the world. I live with my spirit now, and I’ve come to accept the lack of love and consideration I receive from mankind. I am learning to control my emotions and to shield myself from emotional harm. I’ve learned that even though I am different, I am me. Every individual has their differences, a certain uniqueness that complements who they are as people. Some are forced to hide and feel shame of their differences; others embrace their differences gladly. Ultimately society dictates one’s place in the world. Or does it? Either way, I am beginning to feel that I am not cursed after all. I am, rather, divine; godlike to possess a dual nature. Living as a boy for 21 years with the mind of a girl for 23 years has given me the complete power of yin and yang. Although I am a different, yet special girl, I can proudly say that I have had both worlds in the palm of my hands.<\/p>\n
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