This is not an apology This is not an apology The words have fought underneath my skin for over a decade Battling with guilt and conscious Tumbling through the mire that is non-existent self esteem Trapped in the pit of my stomach in a cage of ice cold fear
The fear of being wrong The fear of being a mistake The fear of being a disappointment The fear…of your disappointment
The words are rattling in their cage so fast they fly to my heart And suddenly I’m afraid of one less thing Even though a hundred more fears take its place But the words are here in my heart now And nothing ever rang so true So there’s nothing I can do when they come to my throat-
Do you know the last time I wrote: “I am transgender” was in my letter to you? Because somewhere between my heart and my throat, shame was born And I wore it like a shroud
Thumbing through the pages of that old story Filled with pity for the boy who got uncomfortable at the phrase: “I could never tell!” And thinking: “I’m glad I moved past that” But the next time you called I couldn’t bring myself to correct you when you referred to me as ‘she’ It was easier to let you believe Even though every time the weight on my shoulders threatened to suffocate me
When you cry over old pictures of the life you always wanted My body turns to stone While the molten lava burning in my chest seeps through cracks Piece by piece, fueled by time and unexpected, unconditional love Like any other coat My shroud begins to wear away
It takes one last moment of unwarranted mourning One last moment of shame One last moment of fear And suddenly I’m free
Your words used to echo in my head as clear as the day you said them And those days, there never seemed to be enough oxygen in the air But for the first time in years, I can say, “I am transgender” And still be breathing afterwards I can say “I am transgender” And not immediately being to self-destruct I can post a picture of my face online with the tagline ‘trans man’ And not worry about who’s going to see it
For the first time I feel honest when I tell that terrified kid in that old story: “It gets better” No matter what your mom said You don’t have to apologize She should never have made you feel guilty for loving yourself more than you love her visions for the future
This is not an apology Because I’m not sorry No one will ever make me sorry again
Because I’m not a vision Because I’m not a possession I’m not an idea or a concept Because I’m a person Because I’m a man And my name is …
i crave in others what my organ sack lacks— warmth, honed bones, usefulness; i want to dip into them, i want to bathe myself in otherness to become something different than the dull familiarity of soft self, sad self, stale self
there is no one else i could have been; when the void vomited my flesh, its sick black residue seeped into my ear. i have been poisoned from the start. i sometimes fear the sinking back in, the retraction, the returning home—other times i want it with an urgency, a hunger
i look at my hollow eyes, their circular knowing of. they are slick as little fish eggs, foreign as jupiter or another’s blood. if the void got to choose when it spit me up, then i’d like to choose when i go back
i told my mom, nah that’s not gonna happen. he’s not gonna sacrifice his kid. the only children who die on this show are evil ones like joffrey and minor characters like the butcher’s boy and lommy.
they’re not gonna kill such a sympathetic, innocent, kind-hearted child who’s been a pretty major character since season 3, and the only person who humanizes stannis, he of the ‘personality of a lobster’ (direct loras quote).
his love for his daughter was his one redeeming quality and the thing that made him interesting to me.
i mean really, just look at how these dorks look at each other
and the round-about way he tells her he loves her
AND THE WAY SHE LOOKS AT HIM WITH TEARS IN HER EYES, KNOWING HER DAD LOVES AND APPRECIATES HER
boy was i wrong. her face when it’s about to happen…
and stannis just fucking stands there looking all remorseful
no, i will never forgive you stannis. what you’ve done is worse than anything anyone else has done on this show. worse than the red wedding. worse than the beheadings and torture and poisonings.
you burned your own fucking child alive, your only child and heir, the one you went through hell to save from greyscale, all for some freaky fire cult you only half believe in which is just a means to an end for you. an end that means NOTHING without an heir and without the only person who loves you unconditionally despite your many many flaws.
i know grrm and d&d coordinated on this and it might happen in the books in some way, shape or form but that doesn’t excuse any of them.
i’m mostly just frustrated with d&d for some of the choices they’ve made with regard to female characters. i don’t read the books but apparently arianne martell of dorne is supposed to be a pretty empowering female character which they decided to leave out for really good reasons i guess??????
dany’s rape was horrifying. cersei’s rape was horrifying. sansa’s rape was horrifying. but the shireen thing got me right in the feels and it’s just something i won’t be able to get over.