“I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality.
I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”
— MLK —
"Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
— Dylan Thomas —
“You're the sun, you've never seen the night
But you hear its song from the morning birds
But I'm not the moon, I'm not even a star
But awake at night I'll be singing to the birds”
— Mitski, Your Best American Girl —
“Defeat begins with the fear that one has lost."
— Kobo Abe —
I never used to put too much stock in wishing— Talking to god, or whoever else listens to quiet desperate voices in the dead of night. I remember being in grade-school, dreaming before sleep that life was different; that I had a another body to wake to. But the morning would come and so too the cold light of just another day.
Not that I wanted out of the game.
The world was still too beautiful and I was just too strange, stubborn, and loved to leave it behind.
Gamman: we endure.
But in April of 2015, I decided it was time. Time to embrace that small voice that I had carried with me on this strange journey and fulfill the dream that had eluded me all my life. So I took my grandmother's unused, blank staring daruma off the shelf and made a wish. I was thrilled to feel like a silly child again as I sketched in one of its eyes with sharpie. This past August, after nine months of HRT and over a year of methodically coming out to my family, friends, and community, I drew in the other eye.
Your wish is granted.
I don't know when the word transgender entered my vocabulary, but once it did, I learned that I wasn't alone. Just like other helpful labels like hapa or spoonie, this word had the power to affect change thru self-acceptance and acts of radical self-love.
I am the stubborn nail. I am a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'd like to think that my grandmother would be proud of that.
"The universe is made of stories, not of atoms."
— Muriel Rukeyser —