20/4/2015 3:55 pm
Hey loves! Just in case you’re wondering, my exam went surprisingly well. The next one is on Wednesday 22/4/15. The drive back home was full of idiotic moronic fucks portraying their lack of civic sense morality and.. well.. just their utter lack of grey matter really. I wonder if they feel the same way about me. Interesting, I’ve never really been able to think like that. I guess I’m getting wiser by the minute ;).
I just wanted to take sometime out to express how it feels to be a closeted MTF transsexual. I need you to close your eyes and imagine yourself just as you are, exactly the way you are mentally and emotionally but as the opposite gender. Imagine the standard gender roles being forced down your throat. As an MTF, I am going to give you some examples for you to relate to.
I bought a pink phone cover for a spare phone I had because I love pink and I wanted it. Mind you, it was a spare phone not the one I use on a daily basis and my father made sure he passed a snide remark.
I started shaving my body a few years ago because I hate body hair and I couldn’t stand it no more only to have my father pass remarks like these. " what are you even doing?“ ” Don’t be Gay! Do you like guys?“ ” Id rather not realize a few years down the line that I made a mistake sending you abroad and that you’ve become a girl or something weird, you know? They have a lot of those out there! I’d rather send you to a place where you practice religion and simple living and spend your life living a mediocre but religious life.“
(I’m only out to my online friends, 2 friends out here and my mother)
After painting my nails, my mother makes sure she points out how creepy it is that I do all this. She makes it a point to convey to me that I have fostered all this and there was nothing wrong with me I’ve just convinced myself that I’m MTF. She ensures that I am told every other day that she blames herself for me thinking the way I do and my entire extended family will be blaming her too. She has gone as far as saying, ” you can transition after I’m dead.“
I’m not sure if you can imagine your parents saying ” you can be yourself after we are dead. Till then you are what we say you are.“ It certainly is frustrating, it certainly is painful.
I often look at women with sunglasses on, straightened long black hair with golden brown highlights, wearing their hair on one side covering half of their yellow tank top and beige shorts with absolutely flawless skin and beautiful long legs wearing wedges with beige sole and black straps walking confidently down the street and I think to myself I wish that is what I looked like. I wish I could pull that off. I wish I would have 15 people complimenting me everyday on how pretty I look. I wish someone would ask me out on a date and take pictures of me while I read the menu and then when I look up and ask "what?” She looks up at me and says “nothing, you’re just beautiful…” blushes and looks away. I wish…. I wonder… I long for that day…
Let me simplify this,
I wake up every morning and look up in the mirror.
I see a familiar face stare at me but it’s no one I know.
I see a man in the mirror where a woman should be.
I see a smile fade away imagining what could be.