Robin, Beware those who say, "I understand", if they are not themselves transitioned. I empathize of course but I cannot imagine what it must feel like to have gone through the pain of growing up like you did. I can say that I am pleased you found peace and hopefully the rest of the world will continue to have a better understanding of and attitude towards what you went through. Fondly, Michael
My ex of 16 years shared similar experiences—they once didn’t have a change of clothes, so the cis-guy friend lent his undies to them. It was the first time they put them on, and it felt right.
The perfect fit.
Longing for fits like these! There’s wisdom in the pain here: on my end it makes me feel it’s possible to integrate parts of one self, experience by experience, choice by choice until everything in one’s body, heart, and mind folds in.
I do not know your experience nor the magnitude, but I see the power of how you make & shape reality.
One thing non-trans people can do is see people as they proclaim.
Nowadays, I don’t ask, “What are your pronouns?” Me as a gender-expansive won’t settle here, so I know to ask other genders, “What are your preferred adjectives?”
They’ll cry out:
handsome,
gorgeous,
pretty,
sexy,
cute,
the gamut. Then I start to see the smiles that come from an inner radiance.
I can see why cis folk are afraid of trans folk—you’re wizards, sorcerers, warlocks, witches, and magicians who alchemize heart, mind, body, and soul.
Dearest Robin-I am a longtime teacher who has had a number of transgender and non-binary students come through my classroom (I teach 1st-3rd grade) over the past 3 decades who have known exactly who they were before they landed in my class. Especially at this time, I feel so grateful that I was a part of a learning community (I've always taught Montessori) that allowed those souls to simply be who they were and invited those of us who were there to guide, to allow, support and love; and to do everything possible to simply create an environment of safety, inclusion, learning and belonging. Though you didn't have this freedom to identify yourself in those years, I hope that today, the truth of your identity you've always known has created in you a sense of peace and deep self-compassion. Thank you for your story. And yes-I can see who you were.
Bless you, Robin. Yes, I see that boy in you. You and I share something similar & familiar. I knew when I was 6 that I was a boy. I couldn't tell anybody, because I didn't understand why I thought that way. I no longer feel weird about not being able to be the boy I was, but there will always be a simmering inside, because I know my life would've turned out very different had I been allowed to be who I really was. If my father took me under his wings like he did other boys in my family. I 100% know it would've been different and I'm sad about that.
But alas!!! Better late than never and I think my father understood in the last days of his life. Bittersweet that it was. Hang in there, man. We get to rewrite our history any way we choose. Can't change the past, but we can affect our future by finding peace with it all. ❤️
Robin, I saw him right away. The fire hat, the yellow ball, the whole stance—it felt so familiar, almost like looking at one of my own old photos. I see the little boy in you as clearly as I’ve started to see the one in me, even when I didn’t have the words or the lens for it. Back then, I just knew something didn’t fit the names they gave me.
What you wrote here lands deep. That question—who would I have grown up to be if I had been allowed to know I was real—I’ve circled around that one more times than I can count. And still, every time, it opens a door that lets a little more of me breathe.
I don’t need anyone else to validate him. I see him. And yes, he’s real. Every bit.
Robin, Beware those who say, "I understand", if they are not themselves transitioned. I empathize of course but I cannot imagine what it must feel like to have gone through the pain of growing up like you did. I can say that I am pleased you found peace and hopefully the rest of the world will continue to have a better understanding of and attitude towards what you went through. Fondly, Michael
Thanks, Michael. I'm not even sure that I entirely understand myself, so...
I see a mischievous boy there!!
My ex of 16 years shared similar experiences—they once didn’t have a change of clothes, so the cis-guy friend lent his undies to them. It was the first time they put them on, and it felt right.
The perfect fit.
Longing for fits like these! There’s wisdom in the pain here: on my end it makes me feel it’s possible to integrate parts of one self, experience by experience, choice by choice until everything in one’s body, heart, and mind folds in.
I do not know your experience nor the magnitude, but I see the power of how you make & shape reality.
One thing non-trans people can do is see people as they proclaim.
Nowadays, I don’t ask, “What are your pronouns?” Me as a gender-expansive won’t settle here, so I know to ask other genders, “What are your preferred adjectives?”
They’ll cry out:
handsome,
gorgeous,
pretty,
sexy,
cute,
the gamut. Then I start to see the smiles that come from an inner radiance.
I can see why cis folk are afraid of trans folk—you’re wizards, sorcerers, warlocks, witches, and magicians who alchemize heart, mind, body, and soul.
Sure it’s woo, but I see power here.
Dearest Robin-I am a longtime teacher who has had a number of transgender and non-binary students come through my classroom (I teach 1st-3rd grade) over the past 3 decades who have known exactly who they were before they landed in my class. Especially at this time, I feel so grateful that I was a part of a learning community (I've always taught Montessori) that allowed those souls to simply be who they were and invited those of us who were there to guide, to allow, support and love; and to do everything possible to simply create an environment of safety, inclusion, learning and belonging. Though you didn't have this freedom to identify yourself in those years, I hope that today, the truth of your identity you've always known has created in you a sense of peace and deep self-compassion. Thank you for your story. And yes-I can see who you were.
Bless you, Robin. Yes, I see that boy in you. You and I share something similar & familiar. I knew when I was 6 that I was a boy. I couldn't tell anybody, because I didn't understand why I thought that way. I no longer feel weird about not being able to be the boy I was, but there will always be a simmering inside, because I know my life would've turned out very different had I been allowed to be who I really was. If my father took me under his wings like he did other boys in my family. I 100% know it would've been different and I'm sad about that.
But alas!!! Better late than never and I think my father understood in the last days of his life. Bittersweet that it was. Hang in there, man. We get to rewrite our history any way we choose. Can't change the past, but we can affect our future by finding peace with it all. ❤️
Robin, I saw him right away. The fire hat, the yellow ball, the whole stance—it felt so familiar, almost like looking at one of my own old photos. I see the little boy in you as clearly as I’ve started to see the one in me, even when I didn’t have the words or the lens for it. Back then, I just knew something didn’t fit the names they gave me.
What you wrote here lands deep. That question—who would I have grown up to be if I had been allowed to know I was real—I’ve circled around that one more times than I can count. And still, every time, it opens a door that lets a little more of me breathe.
I don’t need anyone else to validate him. I see him. And yes, he’s real. Every bit.