I. Before
Mirror holds stranger's
face—I practice their smile
while dreaming my own
Old name like winter
coat, heavy on my shoulders—
spring demands shedding
A Binary box
too small for the shape I am—
I spill over edges
II. Becoming
First hormone, cool gel—
revolution slathered across
my bare, hairless thigh
Voice cracks at twenty —
second adolescence blooms
awkward yet perfect
Pronouns like seeds dug
deep—watch them blossom into
meadows of myself
Surgery scars map
the geography of agency —
my body, my country
New passport photo:
finally, the face I wear
matches soul beneath
III. Living
Barista says "miss"—
I forget it used to be
a small miracle
Dating app profile:
"Trans girl" in tiny letters—
courage in fine print
People debate bathroom
bills while I just need to pee—
politics made flesh
Parents learn my name
slowly, love stumbling forward
on unfamiliar words
Found family gathering—
we pass stories like bread,
nourishing and warm
IV. Joy
Trans Pride flag flying
from my apartment window—
flowing proud in wind
Wedding dress shopping
with girlfriends, all of us
laugh at Grace's pick
Nieces asks why I
changed my name—"To be myself,"
They nod, satisfied
Ed swims, shirt off,
chest bare in summer sunlight—
freedom smells like chlorine
Letter to myself:
"Thank you for not giving up
when the world said no"
V. Transcendence
Gender is ocean—
I the wave, current, and still,
always fluid, always moving
Trans not an ending
but a beginning —room enough
for all my selves here
In morning mirror,
see our face as work of art—
masterpiece in progress
Stars don't apologise
for burning bright in darkness—
nor do I for living
I am the answer
to prayers my past
never knew to speak
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