What are the words you do not yet have? What do you need to say? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence?
It has been over eight years since I wrote a post about coming in, reclaiming for myself a gay male identity that I hoped might suit me better than the transfeminine one I had sought refuge in. For a while that seemed to “work,” at least insofar as it relieved the burden of having to fight for others to hail me in a particular way. They would just see me, I thought, and make their own inferences. As the years went on, though, the initial joy and relief having faded, I began to think again about who I am and who I wish to be. Now I am once more compelled to speak, to give an accounting of where I have come from and where I am going.