“I loved you then but I love you so much more now. I thought I hated you, I thought I was ashamed of you. But I wasn’t, because I loved you enough to make the decision to be radical as well as revolutionary. I loved you so much that I knew you deserved to be happy, even if it came at a higher cost socially, financially and emotionally.” 2008-2016. I’m so happy.
”In the old Zelda there is this image, this illustration that we started with and you kind of had to put that into your imagination as you were playing along. But now, you really don’t need that illustration. The vast world is ahead of you. It surpasses the illustration and now you can actually walk and do things in this world that has come to life.” (x)
I remember being told at a young age to put my shirt on at sleepovers, that I wasn’t one of the boys. I remember trying to pee standing up at age 8 and making an absolute mess. I remember the envy I felt and couldn’t explain over my guy friends’ Adam’s apples And voices And muscle tone. While my body softened, though never became quite womanly, during puberty. I remember my grandmother telling me to stop slouching And never knowing why I wanted to hide my chest. I remember starving myself to prevent any curves from staking claim on my body. Looking back I remember these things, but it would be years until I came out.
I came out as queer (at the time, a lesbian) at 18 when I was out from under my parents roof. I thought I had finally found my niche, my thing, my explanation to a lifelong unnamed unease. I chopped my hair off, I loved women openly, and they loved me. I was “happy” in my newfound confidence as a masculine of center person. But I wasn’t.
Sometime around 20 I discovered that people could transition. That gender wasn’t black and white Or just what was assigned. I came out as trans for the first time crying on my bathroom floor, my girlfriend at the time tried to console me. I never came out to my twin, she just knew And though it took time, eventually she came around. The first time I told my mother we were in Vegas And I’d say it ruined the trip. The first time I told a stranger my new name was at Starbucks I was thrilled to hear someone call me Christopher Even if they didn’t know any better.
It would take me the next two years to come out slowly First to the my close friends Then to strangers And eventually a post on social media to address everyone else. I had been going by Chris in private for about two years before the day I actually “came out” (again). Some of us take time, and that’s alright.