Facing A Transphobic Reality (June 22, 2019)

Thirteen years ago

First time carded

Wasn't racism

Rather transphobia.

Police officer accused me

Break-and-entering

A lie - both knew it.

Like a bully

Invaded my personal space

Aggressively.

Minutes from

My basement apartment

And safety.

For my tired

And hungry body

Finished 10 hour shift.

Add 3 hours

If buses running on-time

On 2 transit systems

Round trip commute.

Quickly and quietly

Followed instructions

To avoid escalation

Feared being assaulted.

Biggest mistake

Showing transit transfer

Triggered a switch

Personal verbal attack.

Tried and failed

Too tired/shocked

For angry response.

Seemed like forever

He was assaulting me

Stepping out of time.

In reality

Only 3-4 minutes

Elapsed.

Before walking back

To his police cruiser

And drove away.

In a mental fog

Took those last few steps

To my basement apartment.

Wondering

WTH happened

Just now.

As the apartment door

Closes behind me

For that night.

Therisa © 2019

Author’s note: For those wondering, I didn’t report this police officer to his superiors, as I didn’t have his badge number or name, to use. Secondly, I doubt that his superiors would have done anything, give Peel Regional Police have a rather tarnished record, for its interactions with minority communities, in Peel Region.

Let’s put it this way: there are no special allowances for LGBTQ+ people, when they have to enter the local shelter systems, or support programs, back then. But that has changed over the past 5 years, with a PFLAG office opening up, with related supportive programs for the region.

Through The Heart Of Darkness (April 24, 2019)

Warning: The following poem contains mentioning of suicidal thoughts/attempt, depression and death. Please stop, if this triggers you.

There are times

I lay in bed

Staring at

My soul’s darkest places.

Pill bottles

All lined up

Ready to open

For that blackest moment.

As wave

After wave of despair

Pulls me

Ever deeper

Into the abyss

Of no return.

Like a forgotten lover

Asking for

One last dance

Rekindling a lost love

For the final time.

As I refuse

Your need/want.

Nine years

Since our last embrace

Around the yuletide log ablaze

Upon the computer screen.

Having since dealt

With 2 prolong bouts

Of agoraphobia.

Which held me

A virtual prisoner

Within my apartment walls

For several months

At a time.

Even

My most recent

Transphobic scare

Won’t deter me

From continuing

My healing journey.

Surrendering means

You win

With your brutist nature

And hate.

Like I did

Almost 42 years ago

In the rural village

Of Erin, Ontario.

Hiding away

Within myself

Until November 15, 2005.

When I emerged

As my true self

Standing over

My dad’s grave.

On the anniversary date

Of his physical release

From mortal pain and suffering

Seven years previously.

So Death

You’ve no hold

Over me.

Having watched

My Oma (cancer)

And dad (heart attack-brain dead)

Fight you

With dignity.

Rather

It is life

I struggle with.

Therisa © 2019

Author’s note: I started writing this poem, on Easter Sunday, the first dry day of the Easter long weekend, in Toronto. Needing a way, to vent the darkness that was building up, within me. Hopefully, my last suicide attempt, occurred during the holiday season of 2010-11, when I did have several containers filled with prescription drugs, to OD on. For some reason, I couldn’t do it.

Although, should the need arise, I would choose to end my life, with the dignity of assisted death.

Thoughts For International Women's Day (March 11, 2019)

Calendar reads

Twenty-one months

And counting

For my current bout

Of depression.

A fact

Not proud of.

So easy

To lose oneself

In darkness and anger

Surrendering to this despair

Permanently.

Some

Like myself

Internalize this anger

Harming ourselves

By becoming suicidal.

Others

Externalize their anger

Becoming a threat

To themselves

And other people

For physical violence

And death.

And yet

During this period

Of prolonged darkness

Haven't felt this need

For desperate measures.

There have been

Momentary lapses

When suicidal thoughts

Emerged to the forefront.

Urging me

Take one final step

Into the great beyond

I've resisted.

Please understand

These suicidal thoughts

Are a part

Of my daily life.

Abuse/bullying survivor

Living with mental illness

And gender dysphoria.

Most people 

Don't understand

The disconnect

Between body and soul

That drives me.

Of the pain generated

By my genetic deformities

Having a male body

With a female soul.

Especially

Hearing people using

The wrong gender pronouns

When addressing me.

Worse offenders

Are transphobic ciswomen

In position of power

Who know better.

Wrongly believing

We're fifth columnists

Sent by misogynistic men

And their political organizations

To destroy all advances

Made by women.

Advances

We want to build on

And enshrine

Into the legal system

Protecting everyone.

Ironically

Doing the heavy lifting

For theses "anti-women"

Movements.

These misogynistic women

Risk losing everything

For very little return

In denying our existence.

As judges/politicians

Impose their will

On this growing dispute

Leaving neither side

Satisfied with the compromise.

Growing concern

Governments reduce

Their fiscal responsibilities

Supporting rape/abuse centers

As waiting lists reach

Eighteen months and longer.

Centers denied access

For transwomen seeking help

On the claims

We're re-victimizing

Cisgender clients and staff

Who've experienced

Sexual assaults and abuse.

As if

Being the victim

To crimes of power

Is limited

To ciswomen.

Therisa © 2019

Winds Of Change 'R' Blowing (October 22, 2018)

I wear

The pink triangle

Not fashion statement

Some people do

Coloured ribbons.

Rather

Memorial to those

Imprisoned and killed

By Nazi Germany

And its European allies.

Taking back

Symbol of oppression/ignorance

Branding LGBTQ+ people.

Transforming it

Hope and tolerance

Educating people

We're not monsters

To shun/attack.

Especially now

Hearts hardening

Barriers raised

Deemed strangers/different

By influential society members

Xenophobia grows.

Dreaded sense-deja vu

Repeating failed lessons

Of past century

Higher death toll.

Legislating hate/ignorance

Binding laws

Society poorer.

Head hung

In shame.

Therisa © 2018

Author’s note: Too many examples of this type of hate/ignorance, like the protest against Ukrainian:

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/nov/18/trans-rights-activists-attacked-with-pepper-spray-during-ukraine-march-kiev

Being Honest (July 27, 2018)

Know these words

That you'll read

May anger/upset you.

For this reason alone

I've done my job

As an artist.

Today

North American society

Views feminism

A pejoric word.

Demeaning those

Who believe

In total equality

Regardless

Of birth gender.

As a transwoman

Discriminated by

My birth gender

From those women

I sought help.

As if

Having a birth defect

Between one's legs

Is a capital crime

Needing punishment!

Not compassion

Or understanding.

Wanting to scream

At the top of my lungs

“F----ng bi--hes.”

Knowing

You'll never hear

Or care about the pain

Your actions have done

To a trans-sisters.

Advancing

Your feminazi platform

At all costs.

Justifying your crushing

All with Y chromosomes

That's all cismales transwomen

Or intersex people

Given this genetic inheritance.

Never mind

How you treat transmen

With your brand of hatred.

Sigh.

Your male bashing

Reeks of penis envy

From this side

Of the gender divide.

In wanting

What you don't have.

Honestly

If one steps back

We see your radfem

Is the flipside

Of the misogynistic beliefs

President Trump presents.

Destroying any chance

For sympathetic support

From enlightened men

Or women.

Oh love

I wish my body

Could give birth

With my own fully functioning

Female reproductive organs.

Welcoming

My monthly visitor

With open arms.

Despite the BS

You spread

About us.

Therisa © 2018

Author’s note: Part of the debate that has raged in Canada, over the past year or so:  

(http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/transgender-rights-bill-female-born-spaces-1.4110634?cmp=news-digests-canada-and-world-morning)

The seed of this poem was started by walking to my pharmacist, Thursday night.