Persons of Interest exhibition, Sydney, Australia

Persons of Interest exhibition, Sydney, Australia (Photo credit: Pranav Bhatt)

Quote of the day – “When you lie to the world about who you are, the only person you are lying to is yourself”.

It’s a strange thought indeed, but one that need be mentioned.  I was so concerned about how people would perceive me, so concerned with people seeing me as “different” and there of “unworthy, unwanted, or other wise” that I created a facade about myself those years ago, for many of them.  Indeed, what one thing I have keenly realized in transition is that the only person who was being lied to was me.  My friends saw through me, in a way I couldn’t see through myself, but it isn’t that simple.  My facade was so complete that some people wanted to believe that was who I really was, and I am not.  My relationship with my biological and “semi-step” family as a perfect example.  My father and family wanted to believe so much that “I was the facade” that they refuse to see me for who I am now.  I know in transition, I have changed and things I would have once repressed are wide open for all the world to see.

We can deny to ourselves what we don’t want to see; however, those in the world around us are not subject to that error.  Each person has flaws, so it’s not like others can “know you more than you know yourself”, but more so that those closest to you see through the things you try to hide.  My first memories of being trans revolved around the fact that when I was 3 – 4 I realized I wasn’t like other boys, so much to the fact that I wasn’t one.  While I wasn’t overtly effeminate, I did feel that pull through whom I identified with.  I am sure there are those who would scrutinize my “association”, but they’d be wrong to assert my associate was out of confusion.  Even before I knew there was a difference, I knew my body felt wrong.  But, it in and of itself, is my own testament to my life and existence, something which is only evident to me.  The primary in my mind was, why am I a girl, but I am a boy.

It was the reality I had excepted but desperately wanted to escape from.  Oh, how many times I wished it weren’t so, and many times before transition I prayed that a miracle would come and fix me.  But I realized if this was how I am, then it would likely always be so.  It pained me to admit, and I struggled even more so against the persecution, and the accusations that “I was only confused about who I was”, or that “I was giving precedent to something which it was not entitled”.  How I feel about myself now, though, is far more convincing as to how I feel about myself than any argument of those likes…  But I am still questioned, “If the body isn’t permanent, then why change it”, and the answer is simple… If I am to survive then I must live it according to who I feel I am.  A life ended in suicide when there is an alternative that could allow happiness is overlooked is truly a life wasted in my opinion.  I must in the end, to survive this life as a complete person, that in the end of I must be true to myself.  That is important to me.  The person I was before all this wasn’t me, but whom I though I was expected to be.

I must be myself, because I can be no one else.  I may not be a woman in the eyes of many, but it would be false to accuse me of being a man either.  This has been a “Quote of the day”.  I’d rather be neither that one that I am not.  Often it is true that people accept us, but not us as we identify ourselves. An unfortunate the complex of a culture is that it embraces individuality and scorns it.

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