A Day of Blessing (July 14, 2016)

Like a bolt

Of lightening

Out of the blue.

It happened

To me.

Never expecting

To find support

Like I did

Today.

But

Given the darkness

I have been travelling

For the past month.

I accept this

As a blessing

From the Goddess

Herself.

Gracing me

With light

At a dark moment.

Someone

Who I know

Casually

From the local library.

Mistakenly 

He thought

I was Intersex.

Instead of

A transsexual

(Male to Female),.

Although

We do face

Many similar battles

In our struggles

For acceptance.

Think

My gentle explaining

That Intersex used

To be known 

As Hematite 

Helped out.

As we parted

He shook my hand

And told me:

"Never let them

Stop you

In your dream".

As I thanked him

Before parting

Our ways.

A huge reversal

Of what normally

Happens

To a trans-person.

One

Am grateful for

Given the stressful day

It has been

For me.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: On July 13th, my apartment was sprayed for cockroaches, and I was forced to relocate the cats, for least 6 hours, in another part of my apartment building. Not to mention, all of the prep work that needed to done, to get my apartment ready, which could only happen, in the final hours, before the spraying was scheduled, to happened. Throughout all of this, the cats were real troopers, and helped to ease some of the stress, I was experiencing, from this departure of my normal routine.

Butterfly Dreams (June 22, 2012)

lifeafterdawn.com

Oh
How I long to be
Free of this mortal prison
Which I was born
Into.

Truly
Know the freedom
Which my soul
Craves.

Unshackled
From the limitations
That genetics
And society have
Imposed on people
Like myself.

Smiling
As I spread my wings
And fly around
In your loving embrace
Knowing
I am safe.

Free
Of the diseases
Which chokes society
With it's toxicity
And lethal nature.

As
The wind blows
Over my velvety
Wings.


Therisa © 2012






Author's note: Written, during a happier period of my life, four years ago.

Who Am I? (June 25, 2016)

Often wonder

When my curiosity

Gets the better of me

What my obit would say

About the person.

Who

I am

To others?

A question

I ask.

Having read

Some of the victims' lives

From the Pulse Massacre

In Orlando, Fl.

Shall I

Be remembered

As a dreamer.

Who dare

To live life

As a woman

Trapped

Within a man's body?

An educator

Who taught society

One person

At a time.

What means

To be

A transsexual

In a transphobic world.

An abuse survivor

Who is turning

Her tortured past

In something creative

And healing

For others.

A person

That others come to

In times of trouble

Who listens

To their burden

Without judgement.

As I struggle

With my own nightmares

That I have bottled up

Inside of me.

Questions

I will never know

The answers

In my lifetime.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Before people start thinking, I'm suicidal and about to take my life, please stop, and realize this, my lifespan will be shorter, than my dad's and opa's, due to mental illness and inherited genetic conditions, like diabetes and heart disease. Never mind, most trans-people, in general, have a short life, than the general public. 

Personally, never thought, I would see my 30th birthday, yet alone, to celebrate my 45th one. The Pulse Massacre, in Orlando, Fl, has rocked me, to the core, like my opa's death did, on my 14th birthday, so many years ago. Although, I don't know, any of the victims, they're family, in a way, you wouldn't understand.

Tat, Lili (May 8, 2016)

Dear Miss Elbe;

Please forgive me

In my ignorance

Of your journey

And life.

As The Danish Girl

Unfolds

Before me

A constant stream

Of tears

Stains my blouse.

Finding myself

Needing to write this

In letting go

Of your fears

You have faced

Head on

Lili.

Wish

I could tell you

Society has changed

In accepting us

As the men and women

We are.

Almost

A century later

The pain and stress

Of self-acceptance

And expressing it

Remains

The same.

Giving truth

To our true self

Means death

To our bodies

As the world

Knew us.

Some may call it

Mutilation

On the surgeries

We undergo.

But

Soul peace

Knows no price

We must pay

To experience it.

Even if

It means death

To our physical body.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: On Mother's Day (May 8), I watched, for the first time, The Danish Girl, the story of Lili Elbe, and her struggle to be true, to herself, in being, the first transwoman, to undergo SRS. In comparison, against today's version of SRS, what Lili faced was barbaric, in the need for multiple surgeries to do, what is done, with usually one operation. Two, if the person has the orchiectomy done first. For more information about SRS, please click on the following link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex_reassignment_surgery

Personally, I felt the film underplayed, the level of homophobic and transphobic violence, in Europe, at the time, considering, it was late 1920s, and the rise of ultra-right wing nationalistic parties, across Europe, as a whole. From my own research, I know that LBGT+ concentration camps survivors were held long after WWII had ended, in jail or the camps, themselves. Otherwise, the film captured accurately, how feels to struggle, with gender dysphoria.

Only wish, our community had talked more about the true bravery, Ms. Elbe showed, in being the first candidate to complete SRS surgery, even though, she lost her life, to it. Only hope, I have your inner strength, when my turn comes around.

Between The Line (April 6, 2016)

There are days

I find myself

Wishing.

Someone had told me

About the joys

That would mark

My second time

Through puberty.

Especially

The growing pains

My developing breasts

Would give me.

Never mind

The world's perception

Has changed

With each emerging stage

Of my development.

Often

With mixed emotions.

Like

I'm being treated

As a delicate flower

About to lose its petals

In a strong breeze.

And yet

There are times

Am grateful

For these days

By getting assistance

That would never happen

As a male.

Being exposed

To situations

Neither gender understand

For not having

Lived it

Like I have.

Straddling

The gender divide

Of what it means

To be

A trans-citizen

In the World

Of cis-men and women.

In the barriers

And expectations

Each gender has

For itself

And the other gender.

Often

Unrealistic

In their nature.

As I move

Ever close

From one gender

To the other.

Therisa © 2016

Why Can't I Be You? (January 26, 2016)

www.motherjones.com

Courage:

[kur-ij, kuhr-]

noun

1.

the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.

2.

Obsolete. the heart as the source of emotion.

Idioms

3.

have the courage of one's convictions, to act in accordance with one's beliefs, especially in spite of criticism.

source: www.dictionary.com

A gentle

But sad sigh

Escapes my lips

As tears roll down

My face.

In trying

To find

That inner strength.

That you say

Shines like a beacon

Through the darkness

I have walked

In my journey

To here.

Having lost

Everything of value

To my body and soul.

For this need

Of mine.

Correcting

A genetic birth defect

Being born

Within the wrong body

Of a male.

Which

Society views

As normal.

Despite

Viewing myself

As a woman trapped

Within a male shell

Of a body.

Won't burden you

With the years

Of abuse and bullying

That has marked my life.

Since

I realized

This inner truth

At the tender age

Of four.

Within my head

The voices

Of my abusers

Ringing out.

Cursing me

With such crude

And hurtful language.

No child should

Ever know.

Fuelling their need

For power

And control.

By expressing

Their fear

At that

Which

Is different.

Sadly

As adults

These children

Haven't learnt their lessons.

As the fire

Of transphobia

And homophobia

Burns brightly

In their souls.

Consuming

Whatever remains

Of their logic centre

In a Gray hateful ash.

And yes

There times

I have felt

My life

At risk.

In spite

Of this fact

I move forward

In my healing pilgrimage.

Uniting my body

With the feminine soul

I was born

Within.

Thus

Completing

This cycle.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: By the age of twelve, I had attempted, at least 3 different times, to end my life, which I have never told my parents, about. My last 3 years of high school, was marked, by a nightly visit to the kitchen, where I tried to pierce my chest, with one of the meat knives, but I lack the strength to push it, into my chest cavity.


After coming out, accidently, to my mom, over the 2006 Canada Day long weekend, she told me:


"Hell would have to freeze over, and I would have to, come crawling on my hands and knees, begging her, for forgiveness, before she would think about it."


Needless, to say, I was thrown for a dark suicidal depression that lasted, the entire month of July. Nearly costing my job, as a result. With the help and support of a very special friend, I wouldn't be here, to share this, with the world. Thank you, Z.


The title of this poem, is a reference to the British Goth group, The Cure, who's dark and melodic tunes have helped me, during my bout of dark depression. Also, refers to my needing to live my life, as a woman, who is...simply elegance.