Every little kid learns about butterflies,

With their fluttering wings and their monumental transformation

Smiling faces and unbelieving eyes, mesmerized as the caterpillar crawls out of their chrysalis and emerges, the beautiful form that they were always meant to be.

I remember going to the public library every week to check on the Monarchs

Sitting and watching the caterpillars munch on leaves,

Tugging on my mom’s sleeves to watch closely,

Just in case it was finally time.

If only humans could transform like caterpillars, effortlessly

In one monumental shift we could mesmerize the world with what we are meant to be…

No one wants to keep the caterpillar in its simple form, so why do we trap people in theirs?

I have never felt quite right in my body

As if there should be something there that’s not currently a part of me.

I can feel the uncertainty crawling forth through my skin

Through the grin

That I conjure up at a moment’s notice of being called she…

To hide the fact that that’s not me,

My life is like a dial, switching endlessly between

Male and female, girl and boy,

Wishing I lived in a world where I could fearlessly be both.

But the words never seem to be able to leave my mouth

Fear has built a boundless barricade between my lips

With the swaying of my far too feminine hips

I cannot just walk away from this feeling

It follows me around, always lurking in my mind

I don’t know if I can ever leave her behind, no not my dysphoria,

Every look in the mirror is the erosion of my very sanity

Because in my head boy and girl exist simultaneously

In my head I can see it all so clearly

The way that my chest should look, flat and muscular and strong

Broad shouldered, torso stretching long,

I look down at my chest hoping and searching for familiarity

But I just can’t stand the look of my curves and outright femininity

Usually I can hide it…

But I am sick and tired of hiding myself away

Yet I have no idea what to say

Like- mom, I know its hard enough that I’m gay but hey

I’m not a girl either, but I’m also not a guy

I let out a frustrated sigh knowing that this conversation will never end well

It’s been spat in my face that I’m going to Hell

And that’s just because I’m into girls, imagine the reaction if I said that I wasn’t one…


My brother has no idea,

His innocent 8 year old grin

As he laughs at me when I tell him that I want to cut my hair

His laughs confirm my uncertainty, people will stare

But honestly I’m starting not to care.

There have been nights when I sit in the dark staring at my imperfect feminine body holding scissors at the ready, prepared to chop it all off

But I know that my mother would never understand

She would hold my hand and tell me that she will always love me,

But I don’t feel that love when you judge me for the person I so desperately want to see in the mirror

I peer into my mother’s eyes, hoping that she will see the tears streaking down my face,

Yet she keeps steady pace,

Throwing her words at me, as painful as sharp rocks

Shaming me for the pair of socks I shove down my pants to feel more whole

I wish you could see

What I’m thinking and feeling

When I’m kneeling on the floor sobbing

Because I can’t fight my dysphoria anymore



The silence that follows my explosion tears apart my world

As I wait for a reaction

To my display of frenzied passion…

Standing in front of you all,

I look like a girl… but I’m not one at all.

As my spirits fall

I stare at my fingers and my figure, so small

What it looks like… to be so… feminine.

My mind has become the enemy of the body I’m in

And transition isn’t possible anymore…


This poem is about: 
My family
Our world


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