I'm More of A Man Than You.You say that I'm a disease,that I'm confused,or that I'm looking for attention.You call me a dyke,a faggot, butch,or even "it."You tell me to accept that I'm a girl,to get out of this "phase,"and that I'm not who you knew.You yell at me when I try to use the restroom,when I'm walking down the street,or when I go to school.Is there a safe place for me?I'm beginning to think not.Not in school, at home, or in public.I'd like to know why you hate me so much,and why you tried to kill me.You know, when you tried to hit me with your car.Are you mad I didn't die?Pissed I jumped out of the way?If so, please tell me why.I never did anything to you.I don't know your name,and you don't know mine.You don't know anything about me,except that I'm different,from the other guys, at least.Yes, I have breasts.It's true that I get a period.I also hate it all.Believe me, I'd kill my top layer, too,if given the chance.It isn't me at all.There's more to me,I promise.You jus
I will never know, but I wouldTRANSMENI will never know how painful it is to get caught in my zipper. I would take the chance, if it meant I had a penis and I could pee standing up.I will never know how embarrassing it is to get an erection in public. I would happily hide my visible arousal, if it meant I could get an erection.I will never know the disgust of having to go to the doctor for a prostate exam. I would go and get an exam every week, if it meant I had a prostate.I will never know the agony of being kicked in the balls. I wouldn't curse or scream about it, if it meant I had balls that could be injured.I will never need to use a condom for the reason "I don't want my partner to get pregnant". I'd never gripe about having to use a condom, if it meant I had the ability to get someone pregnant.TRANSWOMENI will never know the moodiness, bloating, and cramps of having PMS. I would not complain and I would try to deal with the agony, if it meant I got a period.I will never know the dread of going to a g
I Am No SheI am no "she".My voice does not define me.My face does not define me.My painted nails and eyeliner do not define me.What you perceive does not define me.I am no "she".And every time you use that word,you disrespect me. You tell me with "she"that you think you know my genderbetter than I do.What you think does not define me.I am no "she".My fucking genital configurationis my own business, perhaps my spouse'smaybe even my doctor'sbut never yours.My body parts do not define me.I am no fucking "she".Neither am I "he", despite your protestationsthat one must be one or the otherand never the twain should meet.I am "they". "Their". "They're".There. Isn't that easy?Your language does not define me.I am no "she"."She" cuts me, every timelike a thousand paper cutsstinging from a society that seeksto define me as female.Society does not define me.I am no "she".And you should know betterand you, and you, people from my owncommunity, but still... "she". Every time.