Mourned by My Mother

Parents often end up being the face of trans issues one way or another.

Whether it’s a heartwarming story of a mother accepting her trans daughter and being so happy she finally got the daughter she didn’t know she had.

Or her mourning her dead daughter, knowing that she didn’t feel she could share her secret with her.

Or her mourning her dead ‘son’ — despite her still regularly receiving texts and visits from her.

I don’t really care.

I REALLY don’t think any of us should care.

When you over focus on this fucking shit all you’re doing is letting people paint us as children.

Let me be. I don’t have the energy to write some deep, emotional rhyme about living my ‘truth’

I am living by my own choices, choices that I have made as an adult. This is my suffering, my joy, and my rage. It belongs to me, not my parents, and definitely not their ‘son’