Writing a Trans Story.

Is it possible or more to the point, is it a good idea to write a story about a woman of trans origin that is provocative, who’s main character is problematic and deeply flawed, who spends the first forty five years of their life hiding in plain sight, even attempting to cure themselves at one point by becoming a cult member, or is this what can make such a story more humane and relatable.

If the character, in spite of knowing deep down that she is trapped in the wrong body from early on decides that what she really wants is to be “normal” and not attract the sort of attention that would end up seeing her shunned and rejected, refused work and love, if she tried real hard to be the male all thought her to be, could she be content with the facade and live in that prison for the rest of her life. Could she be a he and be happy?

Of course, this is my story, I did live through it and have finally, some forty five years later, transitioned and bringing my body into alignment with my brain, or if you will, my identity, my sense of who I am. So, I wrote my story, with help from a gifted writer and published it. I know that it came as an enormous relief to me to get all of what I had bottled up inside me for so long out there for all to read.

My story is not unique though still something of a rarity, it’s not even the most adventurous or dramatic but it is mine and I think it has all the elements to keep most readers turning those pages all the way to the end. Maybe there is something about my story that is riveting, and maybe the manner in which I lived my life all those years, surviving and holding on through my art and imagination, through my daydreaming and shaky at best notion that one day I would be whole.

I was lucky, I know many aren’t so fortunate, I have even known of some who left us too soon because life as a trans individual can be so overwhelmingly stressful and hard. I was headed in a similar direction until I met the love of my life and that door that had remained tightly shut for me, the door to fully transitioning was smashed open, ripped from its very hinges.

Hopefully this story of mine goes on to be inspiring to others living similar issues in life, hopefully my story gives hope that life is kind of like that box of chocolates, that we never know what we might come across and some of it will be wonderful and filled with love and happiness, and that they will come to a place in which they are embraced and valued as the beautiful individuals they are.

My story is not over, in fact I see it as an in progress project with plenty of art to create, collaborations to be engaged in, and new exciting paths to walk upon. The future is what we make of it. 

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