2 Weeks Old/Self-Respect Reflected
2 weeks out from when I was
On the table and my brain feels like
It’s 2 weeks old.
It’s like I’ve been trapped in a
Depression sack for the better part of
Sixty years and I’m only
29 years old. I almost started
Bitching about people again
But I literally laughed
And saw it clearly as
“I’m so grateful I get to be me —
And not them.”
2 weeks old and I already
Sometimes forget I used to be
A woman. I’m sure
The pain will return but
I just don’t care about the anger
Or the sadness. I am reborn.
I used to be mad that women
Treat me differently but now it’s just
Boring. I’m interested in all the people
I get to meet
Who don’t know me yet
Quite the same way I feel about
Myself. I am excited to get to know
Him for who he is, not some
Angry misdirected ball of rage
Black-holing itself.
I wonder if it’s possible
To not care, to stay focused
To resist distraction and to achieve
Something even greater than this,
Not for just myself but for
Her memory. The angry little girl
Who knew what was happening
The whole time
And now gets to dance around
Without his tits flapping
Without the sensitivity of pain,
Punishing his movements, reminding her
Why he isn’t.
Non-binary, genderfluid
I changed from her to him and
During that there was a tremendously
Unnatural shifting of liquids
Somewhat similar to the
Seroma on my sternum I was
Stuck between worlds, unable to drain
The genderfluids. Now
I don’t worry, the swelling
Goes down if you’re on the right journey.
I wondered and wondered
Why it is I fought so hard
For a life no one respected, and
Now I realize
All of that was my own self-respect reflected.
I could be angry I could be jealous
I could be petty and I could be full of
What-ifs
But I’m not—
Because I did it.