I can’t remember the last time I had trouble sleeping. I also can’t remember having writer’s block quite like this; my thoughts are clear but I’m afraid to write them down.
I’m afraid of being discriminated against.
I’m afraid of being alone.
I’m afraid of this.
This, my life condensed to today, tonight. Right now. I can’t think about the future, because that just doesn’t make sense.
I accept myself, my face is a woman’s face because I am a woman. My life is a woman’s life. It is what I think it is, but I underestimated the damage caused by arguing the point, by being told otherwise. Because anyone can argue this, and for a time I forgot there’s no basis to my identity.
I didn’t realize the nature of discrimination, that it would take forms that cannot be spoken of. That not being taken seriously would become what I fear the most.
Worst of all, I didn’t think I would believe that I deserve this. In my contortions to make sense of the situation, it’s the only explanation.
Outside, there’s a steady drumbeat of LGBT victories. I’m told the military is reversing its ban on trans people. Inside, I’m coming to terms with exile from my own life. A snowglobe of memories filled with love and artificial snowflakes. A farcical separation, and so very real. It doesn’t matter how often I try to return, it’s not mine.