(Un)Satisfied

I find myself a person (un)satisfied with the life that i’m living because of the physical body that is displayed. I find myself thinking about this beautiful life i’ve been given and granted. In my head, to be two people at the same time always is exhausting and I find myself lost in this process. I’m wearing the same parts yet I call myself something else. Does anybody else have this problem? I’m unsatisfied at the fact that i’m still hiding from my family yet this raging kween inside me is dying to come out. I feel fucking fabulous and I wake up feeling fucking fabulous. Through these “windows” in my body i’ve learned to mend my broken soul. Through glitz, glamour, and gloss this girl becomes real. Through finding myself within this discovery I’ve found more about the personal me that i’ve ever thought. I’ve met a version of myself that has continuously been around. This version of me has been craving the spotlight, she’s craving to get out and i’m craving to show her.

I have to be honest and say that I’m generally a happy person. I find joy in the way that i’ve always lived my life but what’s holding me back has also been the thing helping me throughout the past couple months. I need to become who I once was. I need to become the snake slithering through the wall. I need to become this person who drew strength from their weakness. I’m happy, i’m sad and i’m also neither. I’m me. I’m confused. I’m all versions of me at all times. I just need to be free. I need to find what makes me tick, what makes me happy. Who is this woman, and if i’m only 21 what am I going to be like when Grad school comes around. What am I going to be like with the next person I date? How are they going to understand my physical exterior is different from the person that I live inside my mind? How are they going to react that I just won’t be a happy person daily because sometimes it is weeks before I throw a fresh face on?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not just a sob story. I’m a happy person. I’m learning to see my life as a mess of positives and not just another person going through personal shit. I’m learning to teach myself the difference from being sad and being bored. It is only a couple weeks until i’m 22 and I think this is what is scaring me the most. I’ve found myself infatuated with the thought of learning to love myself quickly but this isn’t just one day and I’m okay. This is a new lifestyle, a new imagination, a new life, a new person with the assets of all my old tricks. You are my passion, you are my love. You are my priority and before anything else I need to make sure we are both okay. I need to make sure that my physical self and my mental self are connected?

 

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Independent Womxn.

Being Trans is hard.
Everyday I read. Everyday I think about my own contextual analysis of this world alongside how I’m supposed to navigate myself around it. I think of how i’m gendered on site and the woman inside me screams. What i’ve been asking myself is what fuels me, and what fuels her? What fuels us? I wonder this EVERYDAY. I think about the way that I see myself in the mirror and its hard acknowledging that I know I’m not happy. I’m not happy putting tons of makeup sometimes but its honestly the only way to feel “whole.”
I know who I am. The next step is whats scaring me. I’m realizing myself, realizing a version of myself that wants more airtime. I call these pockets “windows” on my body. I find these along my tattoos, my piercings, my makeup, nail polish, and then the underwear I have. I enjoy myself. I enjoy the body that I’ve been given but I know I can be happier. Is owning my independence the problem, or is it the conscious decision of being in this form of toxicity that you can’t seem to acknowledge. Its sad knowing that you know what you have to do but it won’t be possible for the safety of yourself and the safety of the other. I’m invested, i’m involved, and I’m  definitely frazzled.
Day 240. You have 34 days until your birthday. 34 days until your brother’s birthday as well. 35 days until your other brothers birthday. By watching the way my mom grew with herself and us with her I can see the way independence has been a common theme. I think of my mom as the root of a lot of power in my life. I find myself consumed at the idea of the strength that she has and the strength that I have. In 34 days I want the following reports back and progress tracked here.
The following is a list of goals I should try to achieve within my last days of 21.
  • Visit the beach or a viewpoint (cliff,  park,  bench) for a moment of relaxation at least once a day (minimum 15 minutes)
  • Visit your best friend. (up to your interpretation)
  • Start GRE Practice before school starts.
  • Be fiscally smart.
Lets start there, copy + paste the following goals and add more to the list as you provide updates about the progress. Your mind is hungry, and this writing has definitely covered a craving that hasn’t been open in quite a while.

 

Working on Myself.

The common theme of 2016 seems to be “Working on Myself.” I tend to find this both comforting and challenging to accept. Its hard to think that the people i’ve lived around my entire life are finally growing up. I take a dear friend of mine back home to see my family for another time around and I find myself thinking of the impact that my family at home and friends from high school played into my development. What space have they provided me, and what space have I created amongst this space? Am I comfortable and to what extent am I just “okay” with what my life has been at?

If I’m “working with myself” then was it wrong of me to tell my mom that I’m proud of her for owning her space. If comfort is what we seek then why does it hurt? To be a woman and own your space is to be known as a bitch. What is a bitch but a female dog, or in my opinion, a woman with a strong presence that owns themselves. I found myself amongst a sea of womxn that have come before me, chingonas that have mended the wounds of displacement in our souls. The womxn around me bury their souls into their work, my mother is a worn gardener preparing herself for her fall harvest. The letter below describes my feelings towards my mother:

Dear mother,
Thank you for everything that you’ve provided me. Thank you for showing me how hard, how beautiful, how expansive and how limited this world is. You have provided a space for me that I never thought of anything possible. I’m proud of you Mom. I’m proud of you for teaching me the hardest lesson, “tough love.” I know that it hurts. I know that you’re going to feel like you did wrong. I know that you want to feel like its going to be okay soon but remember this, you taught us well. I know he’ll be okay  because I’m okay. You’ve taught us love, strength, power but most of all individuality. You’ve raised us to be ourselves, and our truest selves. You’ve raised warriors, ready to take on the world at any point. You’ve done your job and although the future isn’t what you expected it definitely holds love and prosperity. You hold so much wisdom and its time for you to be you.
I want you to remember that you are a warrior. I want you to remember what you’ve taught us. I want you to remember that this world is yours, I want you to remember that as much as you are hurting you will prosper. You are Wonder Woman, you are an Inspiration and you are my best friend. I’ve enjoyed the time that you’ve given us in your life and  I’m excited for the life that you’re going to have beyond this. You’ve left an impact on my life and you’ve left an impact on the life of the people around you. From your friends to your own kids you radiate beauty. You see the world in a way that I’ve never understood and you accept me for who I am. You’re going to be alright kid, and I think you’re going to be better than great. 

 

To My Other Half.
I don’t know what it is but this feeling hurts. I feel tortured, threatened, happy, excited, thankful, remorse and much more these days. I can’t go to bed because the thought of my thoughts is making sure you’re safe, and what if you’re not…
I think about you not because I have to but because I want you. You, the first person to accept me, the one who was there for me since day one, the person who I share a common face with, a womb with. I think about you not only in my dreams, but why have you grown so distant. Have I grown distant, has my comfortability made you uncomfortable? Have I been overlooking my entire family and have been missing this key component? Does including him in your life make you feel better? How do you think including him in your life affects that of the people you surround yourself with, the people who would be there for you till the very last drop of your blood. I find myself perplexed, viewing every angle of how this all went down and my deepest thought lies in understanding that why am I mad…
If I’m working on myself then why does it hurt. I look back on your life and think of the lack-of the life centered around the man. You’ve put the life of a father who was never there and traded it away for the benefit of you and your dad. I’m upset, aggravated, ticked off but most of all I’m hurt. I’m hurt from the years of begging you to take me to a concert, I’m hurt from always paying when we hang out, I’m hurt from understanding why you talk to him and have yet to understand what there is for you to gain. Right now I’m hurting, but most importantly the one woman who gave up her entire life for us is hurting. She was there when nobody else wasn’t, she was there throughout the good moments and the bad. She put you through wrestling, tennis, countless other shenangans with your girlfriends, doctors appointments, paying for car accidents, credit card debt, loans and for what. She doesn’t expect anything from you and you still manage to  make this all about you. You manage to break her heart once more. It’s never been about the presents, the gifts, the material items or the amount of time you give. It was about how you treated us and how you treated them. It’s about how everyone has always put in so much work into you and you don’t seem to realize it. This is about how I feel sorry for you because I wanted to think that you had a good head on your shoulders. The thing is, you do. It frustrates me to know that even in the end of all this I still hope you’re okay. I still love you, and I’m still your brother. You’re my other half. 
So amidst this chaos comes the question, who am I? Who do I want to be? Like Ed says, “I think people should be who they want to be 100%,” and I have to agree. If I’m myself 100% then I’m working with myself, right? I’m ready to be me. And maybe this isn’t a good time but I’m ready to finally be who I was meant to be. My mom and my brother will both be happier in the long run, my mom was 21 with a pair of twins and a 1 year old daughter and I think she did an amazing job.