THE SELFIE ISSUE

I can cut my hair any way, and I can work out until my muscles scream.

I can dress from the young men’s section, and I can lower my eyes so nobody sees the tears.

Because it seems like some people understand, but not everybody tries.

And corrections can get so tiresome, but how would anybody learn from their mistakes?

I could scream until I suffocated and still not feel better.

Because at the end of the day my chest is not flat, and my hips are too wide, and what’s on my birth certificate is more important than what’s in my heart.

Because, “you don’t look like a boy,” and “you’ll always be a girl to me” are only made for you, because you think you’re uncomfortable, and you need reassurance.

I know this is a transition for you too, because change so big is like tripping down the stairs.

But all I want is support, and for you to try and correct your ignorance.

Being trapped in your own body is a hell, and being constantly attacked with the very thing you feel eating at you, is a kind of pain too bitter to forget.

And something that itches at the back of your brain.

All I want to do is to be recognized for who I am, because my genitalia does not define me.

Focus more on what’s between my ears, and less on what’s between my legs. words by eli howard