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A Letter to Myself, For Myself
I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to live like this, and though at the moment I feel too proud for suicide I know a person’s pride wanes and waxes. There may come a time when I don’t feel so proud and if that time comes while I still feel like this who knows what I’ll do to myself.
I’ll admit I’ve had real suicidal thoughts, I even know how I’d do it. I’d get in my car drive onto the highway; I’d listen to my ipod, who knows for how long skipping any song I ever associated with happiness. I imagine I’d drive for some time contemplating maybe the most trivial things and eventually I’d see it; that perfect bend in the highway, the one that if I hit at a hundred plus miles an hour there would be no surviving.
But like I said, I don’t want to die. So I’ve forced myself to face my demons (maybe they never were demons anyway) I have to accept what I’ve known for so long about myself but at one time swore I’d take to my grave. I’m transgender. I was born a boy, but my mind, heart, and soul identify as a girl. I’ve known this for quite some time and if I stop to think about it only more and more evidence is unearthed. I remember telling my Mother I wanted to be girl at a very young age, I had to be younger than seven when I told her this for we still lived in Texas. She told me I have a penis between my legs, that I was a boy and to get ready for school. I remember having the strangest dream of wanting to wear girl’s underwear long before there could be any sexual notion to the act. I remember in high school watching all the girls and not wanting to be with them, but to be them. I remember the first time I tried on a dress and all I wanted to do was dance and jump around in joy.
I’ve held out for so long because of obligations I thought I must uphold to society, to my family, and even to myself. I thought how could I’d be successful in any career or workplace like this, how could I have a family if I become this freak of nature, and most of all I didn’t know if I could get over my own self-hate. See my Mother is very religious, she taught me homosexuality is a sin, even if she never directly said those words her actions did, and I’ve always admired, respected, and loved her so much the thought of going against her teachings has left me more than conflicted. Please don’t misunderstand I don’t blame my Mother for my own insecurities and self-loathing, she also taught me to think for myself and it’s something I’ve done much of my entire life. My Mother isn’t all knowing even if at times I’ve thought she was. I’ve slowly had to accept that what I am, and who I want to be won’t fit into her perspective of right and wrong. I only hope when everything is said out loud and in the open that she can still love me, and if not accept me, tolerate me.
I want to be clear about something, this isn’t about being beautiful, isn’t about being able to pass to the point where no one would have ever guess I’d been born a boy. This is about being myself, living with myself. I know the world as a whole may not be accepting or even tolerant, that even my own family may not be supportive, but I can’t live like this, even if I win the struggle against my depression and never commit suicide to live like this would be to have died. I want to be happy; I want to be me, whatever that truly means.