The Manifesto to Freedom and Liberty, to Whomever finds this Useful
The time has come.
I must take you to a deep area of your mind so you will be able to comprehend what it is I am about to tell you. Trust me, you’ll be glad you did when you awaken. First, I’d like you to find a comfortable place in your dwelling, like a cozy bed or a reclining chair. Once you’ve found this space, continue reading this document.
Okay, first thing’s first. I want you to take in a deep breath through your nose, and exhale through your mouth, clearing your mind of any thought. Slowly breathe in, then slowly breathe out. Each breath should make you feel lighter, and more relaxed. Good, keep going. In, then out. You should almost start to feel like a feather, as if a breeze could blow you away. Now, I want you to think of a relaxing place, like the beach, a warm swimming pool, or an amusement ride. Make it as real as you can. Can you see the colours of light over head? Can you hear the soft hum of the ride? Can you feel yourself climbing on board? Remember, this is your own place, and no one else can intrude upon it. This is your own place alone, and it is a safe place you can always visit when you need to.
First, I need you to think about how you’re going to enter this place. This is what I’d like you to do. Don’t picture it in your mind. Feel yourself stepping down a long ladder. You’re facing the rums. With each deep breath you take, you climb down one step. Climb for about ten steps, slowly and gently or until you begin to feel a warm light. Now, I want you to gently let go. You should feel yourself enter free fall. If you get dizzy and disoriented, try again. Once you’re in free fall, imagine you’re falling, falling through space, until you gently land in front of the amusement ride, called the Hyperloop transport.
Now, I want you to imagine that you’re going to board this capsule that can travel underground. In front of you are a set of nine steps that climb onto a platform. You notice a shape that looks like an aeroplane. You slowly, calmly walk up the steps, gracefully approaching the capsule, its door open and inviting. You climb in and take a seat on the soft, comfortable seat. You feel yourself put on the seatbelt. The doors gently slide beside you and then you hear a rush of air. The sound of the ride’s engine gradually intensifies. It pulses in a rhythmic fashion, making you feel relaxed, as if you’re going to fall deeper into a trance. Good, you should start to feel light. The engine’s whine increases in pitch, like a turbine aboard a jet. The seat suddenly begins to lie you back, your feet resting on a footrest which begins to move up until you’re flat on your back. The whole car starts to rise, nose-first, and you can see from the window that you’re moving.
While you are moving, I want you to imagine that there is a bucket in front of you. Think of your body as being full of sand. You want to empty your body of this heavy substance so you will feel as light and detached from your body as possible. First, start with your feet. Take a deep breath, first inhale, then exhale. You’re letting go of the sand inside your feet. They should already start to feel very relaxed on the footrest.
Now I want you to empty the sand in your ankles. You just keep taking a deep breath, in, then out. Good, your ankles start to feel very light as the sand pours out of them. Next, your legs, full and heavy, you take a deep breath and notice how light they become as the sand pours into the bucket.
More and more relaxed. Now, your stomach, where there may be a lot of sand. Feel it get lighter with each breath you take as the sand falls out. Good. Now moving up to your chest, sides and back. Feel how light you’re getting as the sand empties down below.
Now all we have left are your shoulders, arms, hands, neck and head. Slowly let the sand pour out of them as you inhale through your nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth. You should no longer feel your body any more. You should feel as if it weren’t an important part of you any longer. Remember, you’re still riding peacefully on nothing but air, and the sounds of the rushing wind is calming, soothing. Music starts to play, deep, calming music.
I’m going to count down from five to one. Each time you’re going to go deeper, deeper, and deeper. Ready?
Five, you’re slowly, slowly starting to feel sleepy.
Four, getting sleepier. Remember, slow, deep breaths.
Three, going deeper and deeper.
Two, more and more. You’re starting to become less aware of your surroundings.
One, good. You’re now in a deep trance.
You will obey my commands. You are now extremely open to suggestion. You’re now under my control, and my voice is your only focus. Your mind is going to take in every word I say, and you’re going to obey them, not because you want to. You simply must obey them.
I want you to pay very close attention to what I’m going to tell you. From this point on, you should have no emotion of what this will bring until I am finished.
Hello, my readers.
You folks may be wondering what this is that has come to you. Well, what I have to say here is going to be very long and very profound, but there is simply no other way for me to sugar-coat this. I just have to get this out of my system before it’s too late. There is something which I must bring attention to, something which I tried doing before but was unsuccessful. What I mean is, I must call attention towards a few things which may not be something some people aren’t ordinarily used to hearing about all the time, but I think it is necessary for these facts to be established if we are to be on the same page.
There were some friends I used to hang out with when I started being more extroverted from 2012 to 2013, and I thought that by hanging out with them, it would eventually make me feel better about myself and my ability to meet their expectations. Alas, it’s had the opposite effect. It’s making me feel worse, because I am constantly reminded that I must hide my inner piece while I am with them. I also struggle to still be cordial and friendly towards my friends, so I have this inner battle with myself that leaves me feeling hopeless and despaired. But now the war within me has become so intense I just want to stop having to fight with myself and let my mind and spirit rest in peace.
I cannot condone to being treated like this.
If I leave, no one will care, so why have I been here for these last twenty-something years? Because I simply had no choice, but now I’m going to rebel. So, I’m just letting you all know that it was a lot of fun, getting to enjoy what life had to offer, but unfortunately, like the beginning of a chapter in a book, these chapters must come to an end, like the saying goes, ‘From every ending comes a new beginning.’ Lurlene McDaniel. I’m sorry to have to be blunt about this, but I have had enough emotional suffering. I’m tired of this constant monotony, this humdrum existence which hasn’t enough to offer me with the best things in life that are free. I’ve tried so hard, but nothing has worked, so why bother? Therefore, the only way I can fix all these problems is to simply move on. Where I’ll be going to, I know not, but don’t bother trying to find out. I’ll always be thinking of those whom I loved and for those who still love me. Please understand this and forget this ever happened. I can never forget the fun times I’ve had with you all, and I know you’ll be deeply heartbroken when you find out that I’m gone, but the truth is, I’ve been torturing myself for these past few years. I cannot take it any more. It’s literally tearing me apart. I know I’ve failed to come out to several people, some of whom I was afraid would freak out if they knew, because they have always known me as the person they saw in their mind’s eye, not the person I truly am and feel. I cannot deny the truth any longer. I must be honest with it, because every time I am around my old friends, I am constantly reminded by their actions towards me of how people see me, not the way I want them to treat me. I know I said to my family members several times over the months that I had my own outings to go to, but they were sort of lies. And while I apologise for having told them a falsehood, I could not compel myself to tell them where I was really going. So that’s why I’m going to tell you all now. I’ve been saving up money to seek treatment such as laser hair removal and electrolysis, so that I can live in sync with my inner-peace. The road to recovery isn’t easy, but I swear that someday I will get there, and you no doubt know how hellbent I am.
More than several years ago, I used to be a happy person. I always got what I wanted if I worked hard to get them. I didn’t have many friends who understood me for who I was, mainly because I didn’t know who I really was either. I simply conformed to whatever people wanted me to be. I was easily impressed. I was weak-minded. If someone said I was a boy, I was like, okay. If someone said I was acting girlie, I said, okay. Once, when I was about seven or eight, my dad asked me, are you masculine or feminine? I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, so I just answered with the latter. He immediately corrected me and told me I was masculine. I didn’t have a firm opinion on either one. I knew I was different long before my coming of age, but I couldn’t put a finger on it. I didn’t know the difference between what a boy and a girl was at all, just the anatomical differences. Heck, I didn’t even know that there were identities beyond boy and girl, like nonbinary and other sex variants, like intersex.
When I was fifteen, however, I started to form opinions of my own, but I still got into disrespectful disagreements with people who were stubborn to have their opinions changed. I enjoyed, or should I say, I loved reading romance novels, novels about young teens of all types facing life-altering situations, like cancer, chronic illness, a disability, or a death or divorce. I would read these books every day for a year or so. I found comfort in them, like not only opening a door to a lot of new possibilities, but they have also mellowed me out, and it allowed me to find my inner being. I ended up sympathising with a lot of the female characters because, in a way, I was extremely akin to this. That initially started in 2008. I read over a hundred books between 2009 and 2013, right until I graduated from high school. I have always felt as though I were the quiet one, the shy one, always observing, a camera placed on the sidelines of whatever was going on around it. I don’t want any more of that. I need to get involved. I need to be where the action is.
Sometimes I wondered if I ever failed to receive proper nurturing as I grew up because my mother was so preoccupied with my brother, two years older than I. Since I am both blind and severely hard-of-hearing, I do not have a support service provider (SSP). I have thought of moving in with a friend and pay a small sum to help them cover expenses, and I could start over there. The important thing is to get out of the situation where my older brother, who has the mental capacity of a two-year-old, could attack my mother or myself because this is his easiest means of communication. For example, our family van broke down about two and a half years ago, but my stinking brother refused to board my uncle’s car. I threatened to sedate him and or restrain him until he learned that he must live with situations that he may not feel comfortable with, even if it might improve his well-being in the long run. The fact that he is totally deaf and blind and has no language skills because he never got early intervention has frustrated all of us. And now, to make matters worse, he is refusing to put on any clothes or shoes because he has figured out that he could get results this way. He’s literally gotten tired of going out to places where nothing made sense to him. I was briefly forced to rely on my limited resources to get more groceries, since my mother refused to compensate me, saying that it was her problem. I argued by saying that it was too my problem, and what was more, it was our problem, because it affected us as a family unit. I had told her that he was a time-waster because he prevented her from cooking good food, someone who constantly made messes in the kitchen that he never cleaned up, especially at night, that he has been doing this ever since he could walk. For God’s sake, he’s two years older than I am, yet he acts like such an animal or feral child! I had almost turned to using narcotics and or recreational drugs and alcohol full time, just to numb the pain, but I know that those won’t fix the problem short or long term, and would only add addiction to the mix. My mother just doesn’t want to admit to herself that she has a problem, and even saying that my brother only wants his mother to look after him is not enough. Won’t he understand that his mother may not be around forever? Her health is slowly declining, and sooner or later, he will have to tolerate having other people support his personal activities of daily living, especially now since he is refusing to set foot outside the house. People have told me that my mother and I have two completely different views of the situation. My mother thinks that things are fine just the way they are, whereas I think he needs a lot more substantial and meaningful care and guidance for him to have the life he needs and wants.
I could not go on many outings the way most blind people could.
I literally did things to entertain myself. Wasn’t that why I was more attached to other relatives than I was supposed to? Hasn’t that been because I could not develop a relationship with my brother who could not communicate? Whenever I felt so lonely, I resorted to writing and other things to keep my mind occupied. I even had a short episode of maladaptive daydreaming, but that sort of went away the more I immersed myself into school. Could having a sibling who was older, yet who needed more attention than I have made a significant impact on my overall development? I seem to attach to people very easily, and I often become heartbroken when I lose them for whatever reason. When I visit my friends, I sometimes envy their lifestyles and feel that somehow the grass is always greener on the other side. Sometimes I’d like to copy that person’s life, not to look like a copycat, but because I find their lifestyle much more exciting than the monotonous life I’m forced to live. Ever heard the expression, copying is the sincerest form of flattery? I wonder how much of that is true?
I don’t think I will want to come out to the rest of my immediate family and relatives because of their sheer ignorance and religious background. They deserve not knowing about what’s going on in my personal life. They have hurt me enough already when I was little. One of them accused me of being extremely talkative to the point they wanted me to just shut up, of possessing traits not usually found in guys like having deep emotional conversations, etc.
Before I was born, my mother anticipated on having a daughter to take care of her firstborn child. She thought that simply wishing could have affected me, but I don’t think that was the correct answer. When I was born, she wanted to give me the name Ulysses. I like that name because it doesn’t describe full maleness or femaleness. Rather, it describes someone who has been heroic, and I believe everyone can be heroic as well, regardless of gender. But my dad wouldn’t hear of it; he wanted to give me his name to give me the personality of a man, I suppose. Strangely enough, last year he and his girlfriend had a baby, and guess what they named him? That’s right. Why did they do that to me? When my mum and dad were previously living together twenty years ago, he would abuse both her and my older brother, my mum because he didn’t like the way she was treating him, and my brother because he was angry about having a son who was deaf and blind and not having any means to communicate. Therefore, I turned out to be his elitist. I would constantly be coddled by my father after he and Mum have had a fight. If I cried, he would comfort me, telling me everything was going to be okay. But soon, my dad had to move out, bag and baggage, because he was into unethical polygamy. That was also when he had a habit of hitting my mother with a belt. She didn’t like him hanging out and having kids with other women. Since then, I’ve been living more with my mum and less with my dad. That might also be a reason for my current dilemma, which is the fact that I was primarily living with a domineering mother.
Why is it that even before I was exposed to those romance novels, I was so overly enthusiastic in taking pride of my accomplishments? Why did I always seem to want to hear every single detail and emotion about what others thought, felt or liked about something I had asked of them? I didn’t realise that many of those traits would pop up in the young adult novels I started reading in 2008-2009. Why, when I was little, I was attracted to taking care of babies even though I didn’t know what one was. So, when my mother took me to some place where I heard high-pitched crying and wailing, she’d tell me that it was a baby. I had asked, what’s a baby? And she told me that it was a younger version of me. Excitedly, I asked, where could we get a baby? I want one so bad! Thus, whenever we stopped at one of my mother’s friend’s houses, she’d always ask me if I wanted to take this baby home with me. At first, I believed her, but after two or three years, I was more knowledgeable, and didn’t give in so easily.
Had it not been for a few things that had happened, like a dream I had in June of 2013 about getting a brain transplant, right after I had graduated high school and other things, I could have still felt fine right now. The thing is, I feel like I am impersonating the role of the person I show as me. I’m nothing but an imposter, a spy behind enemy lines. That’s why I’ve packed my feelings so deep inside me until they became hard as concrete.
Someone once noticed that I flinched every time somebody called me by my birth name, called me a young man, or something equally ridiculous, at least in my view. I also wondered why I always seem to mumble my old name whenever someone asked me what it was. That’s the worst of it, including when people addressed me by the wrong pronouns. Still, some people insist on calling me by my old name. I’m thankful that I’ve got it legally changed now, so that if I am ever challenged, I can stuff it in their faces. Should I also say that whenever people called me by my old name, it felt as though they were stabbing a dagger through my heart? Or, like someone twisting my guts inside so much it hurt? That’s why I insist that society sees me as the person I really and truly am, and not for what they think I am. I learned how to censor them saying my old name out to make them sound less hurtful. Once, someone had asked me a question, but I didn’t answer them because I made a rule to myself that I would not respond to anyone who used my birth name unless I absolutely had to. Therefore, I would only answer if the person addressed me by the name that I identified with. So, the next time someone called me by my old name, I’d bleep them out, or I would not answer them until they called me by the name that I wanted them to call me by. I may act like I don’t know who that person is, since in a way, I have detached myself from the person who was conforming to that role. Most people would be like, it would be just better to say, ‘Please call me this.’ I will also correct anyone who uses the wrong pronouns to address me, whether in private or in public depends on the circumstances. I know that people always tell me to be patient if they make a mistake in using nontraditional nonbinary pronouns, but they don’t realise that the offence has a lot more to do than wanting to use the right pronouns. They can trigger a lot of negative things from my past which I want to completely forget, but I cannot do that when I am constantly exposed to those triggers.
Since I consider myself to be gender-neutral, I would very much appreciate it if you called me by the name which I say is okay to use, if you avoided using words or phrases linked to gender cues, and when speaking to other people about me, please refrain from using pronouns like he or him. Instead you can simply say they or them, to keep my gender hidden.
note Since I am more on the feminine side of the spectrum, I don’t mind being referred to as she, so if you feel comfortable with it, even if I don’t fully look female, go for it!
This may seem like a lot of information to take in all at once and you may not feel compelled to using gender-neutral pronouns at first, but I promise you, it’ll all be worth it in the end. If you do end up making a mistake, and we were in private, simply say I’m sorry and move on, but do try to get used to the idea. If, on the other hand, we were in a public place and you made a mistake, don’t fall over yourself in apologising and correcting yourself — it’ll make the situation worse than it already is. Just move on and remember to try harder next time.
I went as far as changing the way my screen reader pronounced my old name so that it wouldn’t hurt as much. So, if I am out and about, then I will go by Ulysses. If I am in front of any of my family members or relative, then I may use the first two letters of my birth name. These names are as gender-neutral as they can be.
I even went as far as making my screen reader say they or them whenever it encountered phrases like he or she, s/he, he/she, etc. Still, the screen reader might say they is, instead of they are. That’s why some are using ONE as a gender-neutral pronoun. I even threatened to charge five cents for every use of the phrase in any variance, similar to how Demolition Man worked, and I said that the money collected would be delivered to a civil rights organisation to push the Modern Language Association to officially recognise gender-neutral pronouns and gender-inclusive vocabulary.
Haven’t these folks been catching on to the hints? Why I want micromedicine, nanomedicine and picomedicine to come sooner rather than later? Why I want a brain transplant or a cloned body? Why I want to donate my body fat for stem cells and get my DNA preserved, why I want to be cryopreserved if I die? Some people think those things are going to happen in a hundred years, whereas I want them to happen ten or so years from now. Wasn’t it obvious based on all these posts I’ve been writing about was why I am obsessed with bone reconstruction, voice modelling and gene therapy? I want to undergo a morphology and body proportion analysis for future remodelling, but at the same time, I cannot bring myself to seek an allopathic plastic surgeon, because I do not trust them. Look at my head and face. My facial hair is almost gone. I’ve been seeking electrolysis and laser hair removal. And my long hair. It’s more than just wanting to have long hair. It’s a need to have long hair. And until recently, I got breast forms. I refuse to undergo any hormones until gene therapy can permanently turn the gonads into a different set of sex cells and transplant an entirely-functioning reproductive system. I have been a consumer of phytoestrogens for a very long time without knowing it. I have been getting it from soy milk beginning at five years of age since somebody claimed that drinking dairy products would cause more harm to my body. Until recently, I discovered that the soy milk I’ve been consuming has increased my gynaecomastia, but they are of small size that I am not satisfied with them. So, that’s why I am so interested in whole-body regeneration, why I am so overly-focused in biological engineering, like 3D printing, cloning, and brain transplantation. I don’t think I’ll feel at home until I have had a change, and no, I don’t want an artificial make-over. I want to be the first, or one of the first to undergo a biological procedure that can change my insides and outsides until they matched perfectly. Also, this is not just for me, but for others who are suffering as well. To reiterate, the reason why I am so interested in biological engineering is because I’m obsessed with finding a cure to my condition. I would very much like to be one of the first people to receive a biological sex change instead of an artificial facsimile of one, like I’ve seen many transpeople do in the past and at present. My philosophy is that a person should have every opportunity to work hard to advocate for what they feel is right, even if others say it would not be practical.
One of my friends told me about using the sinner’s prayer , the one which would allow me to find forgiveness in the lord to help guide me in the right direction and help me get rid of my negative past. Well, this is a different kind of prayer. I pray to God night after night to take the feelings I have away from me, or if he can’t, then have him take me away to some place I can feel safe, or to give me a new body. My prayers haven’t been answered. I’ve tried so hard to meet other people’s demands, but it’s become a daily struggle just to make it from one day to the next. Testimony, which I had hitherto mentioned, is a song I learned when I attended a concert that featured the Philadelphia and Portland Gay Men’s Chorus (PGMC) along with Bridging Voices in March of 2014. The lyrics were extremely powerful that they hit me right down to the core. At that time, I was participating in a social justice choir called Bridging Voices, formerly called Portland GSA Youth Chorus. Now, whenever I hear the song, after I’ve finished talking like a man to someone I haven’t come out to, I think about what I have just done, and all of the emotions I have buried would suddenly spring forth from the darkest, deepest recesses of my soul until I am left with heart-wrenching chords and keys, rising to a climatic crescendo.
I play and sing this song every chance I get because the words speak the truth.
I’ve been preparing to spring the truth to people by exposing them to this masterpiece. This is how significant this anthem is to me as no doubt it is to others who felt the same way. Didn’t people think that even if they knew the circumstances, that they would be fine with it if it went unnamed and if they kept calling me by my birth name and using male pronouns? I simply can’t take that any more. Please, please let me be free. It’s all I’m asking of those who struggling to accept me for who I am, how I am, what I am. I’m tired of having tortured myself day and night, feeling confined to a dark prison which had once been my safety closet. I just want to feel the joy of living in authenticity.
This might also pose as a shocker, but I have no choice. I have decided that I will not continue pursuing higher education until my old life has been removed from the selective service registry, and that the selective service requirement be abolished from this country forever. That is, I will cease to continue pursuing higher education unless one or more of the following occurred:
- I made a lot of money from publishing my manuscripts.
- I made a lot of money from exhibiting my ceramic pieces at an art gallery.
- I made a useful invention, and it brought in a lot of income.
- I got a lot of capital gain from monetising podcasts, doing tarot readings, or anything of that nature so long as it was legal.
- I won a full scholarship or grant that was in no way associated with Federal Student Aid.
- I got the opportunity to travel abroad, with possible help from MIUSA.
- I got income from any other source I haven’t thought of, like from an anonymous donor.
Remember, it’s not the schools I have a problem with, it’s the federal government that is the issue here. If they insist on having this requirement, then one condition must be met. They must allow total inclusivity. Otherwise, farewell to this system. One shouldn’t be forced to sign up just to receive federal student aid if they were assigned male at birth. Now, I know what you’re thinking, people with disabilities are exempt from being drafted, but it doesn’t always mean they are exempt from registration in the first place. Sadly, though, the concept of a military draft has been around since the time of The Ballad of Mulan, so it wasn’t a new concept by any means. Until that is made, I will seek alternative education and career paths.
I want to abolish this requirement so that our citizens can feel a sense of confidence in knowing they won’t have to face any legal challenges. I just think it is unfair for college students who are biologically male must be forced to register for this idiotic service simply to gain access to federal student aid, or any other federal benefits for that matter. Since I believe in taking action via litigation and legislation on issues I deeply care about rather than just raising awareness, I have started a petition asking Congress to do something about it, and you can put your name on it if you’d like by going to https://www.change.org/p/congress-change-the-way-transgender-and-nonbinary-individuals-have-to-register-for-selective-service
I have gained several friends on the internet and I have now established a good reputation under my new identity. Therefore, I don’t feel much like socialising under my old identity, and I am afraid that leading a double life would eventually catch up with me and take its toll as my two identities become compromised.
Towards the end of 2013, I was close to reaching the turning point in my life the more I failed to make friends in the blind community. People expected too much of me, they wanted me to conform, and worst of all, no one accepted me for who I was. I had no choice but to leave all of that behind.
I need to be able to be in a place where I can be myself with no interference from outside influences and have confidence in knowing that I will be safe if people are willing to be supportive when I divulge the truth about myself. Sometimes I go for several days being happy, then I’ll have a dark spell for a few days when I feel like I won’t make it, then I would have good days again, and so it repeats in an ever-ending cycle. It’s like I’m switching between good and bad days, and I can only predict what things would cause my mood to change dramatically by knowing what foods I had eaten, how I slept the night before, what events happened in which I felt good or bad, etc. Choosing who I should come out to is no easy task. It all depends on how the person views life in general, and I often have to put up with this before deciding if it is all right for them to know about who I really am, or simply stop being friends with that person just because I would not be able to stand them constantly calling me by my old name or whatever. These initial days is when I despair, but in the end, I feel relief when I know that the person is okay about who I really am when I tell them the truth.
On Friday, December 23rd, 2005, I was to watch a movie on child development with the rest of my sixth-grade class. Unfortunately, I was too bored to pay attention, and I didn’t have the slightest inkling that I was only surrounded by guys while everyone else went to different rooms. All I remember hearing that morning was, ‘… I can’t wait to see the new you!’ I thought I heard what sounded like an older boy’s voice and possibly his mother talking. At the time, I didn’t know that it was there to inform me about male puberty. I guess that’s why I grew up experiencing things I couldn’t explain, or why I was attracted to them. Then, in April of 2007 and April of 2008, I read Judy Blume’s book called Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. The first time I read it was on tape I had gotten from the public library, but I still didn’t learn the facts until I re-read it in 2008. That’s when I downloaded a copy of it onto my eReader from BookShare and learned more about female puberty. Then, in 2009, I was given a phone number to Teen Link from one of my relatives, and it is a division of WGBH News Channel 8. Then I read a book in late 2009 called ‘What We Have Told Our Kids About Sex’. Also, I’ve been wondering about my sexuality, because people in general who are transgender tend to have differing views towards their sexuality. I don’t think I’ll ever be interested or attracted to girls the way I ought to be, and that’s fine with me. But whenever I see a pretty girl, instead of wanting to flirt with her, I envy her. Why? Because she would have the perfect body I desperately need. Whenever I would do something nice to someone, like give someone, especially a girl a birthday present or a cake, the guys would make fun of me for being such a goodie-goodie or for being different. Maybe they thought I was wanting to impress them when in truth I didn’t see it that way. I’m not sure if I’m attracted to gay guys, straight guys, bisexual or pansexual people, lesbians, etc., but whatever it is, it’s bound to be a sensual experience.
There was a time in early January of 2015 when my friend and I were at the college campus.
As I was checking my notifications on my iOS device, I got a message from somebody, telling me how much they loved me. Since my friend was there and he happened to overhear the message, he asked me who that was. I told him, ‘it was a friend of mine, and I met her a few months ago.’
‘She loves you?’ My friend asked.
I was quickly trying to think of something to say. ‘Yes,’ I finally answered. ‘She and I have been dating for the last three months now.’
‘Wow, that’s awesome. But uh does she know you have long hair and you’re hard-of-hearing?’ I didn’t want to answer the last question. I mean, I’ve always hated and will continue to resent having hearing loss as much as I hate being in the wrong body. I’ve been bullied enough by blind people, including one of my relatives because I couldn’t cross streets like they could. Fortunately, Karma went to bite them hard, and now they started losing their hearing shortly thereafter, so I hope they learnt their lesson.
‘No,’ I said, ‘she doesn’t know that I have long hair, but she does know I am hard-of-hearing.
I don’t think having long hair will make a difference.’ I’m just turning into a liar, but no more. This is the truth. The girl who messaged me is one of my best friends. She loves me, like other girls would love each other. I can never have a heterosexual relationship in the male way. Who would want someone who was only a little more than a metre and a half tall? Who would want someone who treated them as a friend instead of a lover? Nobody. That’s why I’m turning around, and I later discovered that being more submissive was a trait I’ve always had. So, not only am I trans, but I am also pan. I love people of any sex and gender, but from a different perspective and if they also felt comfortable with me. Many people I meet assumed I had a female partner, simply because I had the appearance of being male, even though my attitudes and mannerisms said otherwise. Alas, I do not have a girlfriend. I wish I had been honest with them from the beginning, but I can’t just come out to anyone unless I trust them fully, because I never know how they’re going to take the news or how they’ll react once they find out. I could have said, no, I don’t have a girlfriend, but I do have a partner, or no, I don’t have a partner at all, but I’ve been pressured by so many people that I should date someone of a different sex, and that I should be manly towards them that I virtually set up a shield to protect myself, but in the end, I would feel as if I had betrayed them by saying that I was in a relationship even though that wasn’t true. That’s why I’m giving you all the opportunity to read this before things take a turn for the worse. I am not interested in, nor am I attracted to female partners the way I’m supposed to be, but everyone keeps insisting that I should be this way. So, having said all this, I really do apologise for having said I have a partner when I don’t think I’ll have a partner for a while, not unless I stop pretending to be something I am not. I shouldn’t feel as if I am impersonating the person I show as me. It’s not right for me to feel like I am an imposter; a spy behind enemy lines, but despite the circumstances, I would have no choice but to hide my inner peace. That’s when I would pack my feelings so deep inside me, they would turn to concrete. Lyrics from Testimony.
I feel so much happier when I go on-line and portray myself as my true being, when I could experience something that I never thought to be possible. That’s why I am afraid to have my two identities compromised if those in real life exposed my anomalous identity when others have already known me as my old self. I learned, several years ago, that people have misconceptions about transgender people, that we chose to liv as one gender and decided to change genders. If people change parts of their identity all the time, why is gender the one thing Western society doesn’t want you to change? Also, if we become that gender, would we make those who have identified with that gender since birth feel uncomfortable because we were encroaching or intruding on their turf, or that we were an imposter to them? Just because we didn’t grow up to know the ins and out of being that gender that we needed to become? Or, what about those of the gender we once were would feel like we were deserting them because we no longer identified with that gender? These things need to go away. We need to be able to transition in peace. So, I never wish to be referred to as a man transitioning into a woman. For me, I never was a man, nor will I ever be. The reason I was conforming as male was because that is what I was expected to be, and I didn’t know any better. But no more. From now on, I would like to be referred to as a person in transition. I know that some people’s religious beliefs and their ideologies are getting in the way of this, since there’s a part of them that doesn’t want to believe, a part of them that doesn’t want to let go of the person they thought to be real, when in fact it wasn’t. To those people: I cannot change your mindset, nor can you change mine, but we can control how we feel about each other by being tolerant and supportive even if we cannot truly accept and agree with them wholeheartedly. A lot of people say that it is just a phase I am going through, but it’s not true at all. Besides, if it were a phase, would there be a chance that it would go away? It depends. What I’m trying to get at here is that a person shouldn’t be made to be their old self, not when so many things have caused them to be the person they are now.
During my first long-distance relationship with a heteronormal partner in early 2013, I kept wondering why she wanted to give me men’s stuff. I said, ‘I don’t want men’s things, I want something different!’ That was even before I knew what a transgender person was. I mean, I basically had a sliver of knowledge on the subject, but not enough to dwell on it.
When she told me she wanted to be with someone else, my partner expected me to behave the way guys would normally act–refuse to accept the facts, be jealous, those kinds of stuff. But I didn’t do any of those things. I tried to help her be more open about herself and explain her reasons for wanting to end the relationship without fear that I would judge her for that decision.
Also, the reason I didn’t feel comfortable travelling by myself was not just because I have hearing loss, but having a group or company of some sort always reassured me, because if I got lost, then we would get lost together. I have always had more other confidence than self-confidence. So, together we will do it, for No One is Alone.
Starting over for me was like re-lighting a match, which is going to be the fuse. I so much want to leave all the drama I had gone through in these last few years behind. I don’t want people in my old life to know what I have been up to. It’d be better just to regroup and have a new identity.
If it were possible, and I think it will be soon, I would encourage you to experience what it was like to live in the body of a different sex for a predetermined time. This would allow ignorant people to be more aware of the world around them from someone else’s shoes, just like dying a white person’s skin black, so they could see what it’s like to be in a person of colour’s world and vice versa. Think of how useful that could be if we could change the attitude towards several majority groups if we could do this! All humans are believed to have derived from Africa, for it is a small world after all.
We need those around us to know that we will not repent our decision and wish to have the procedure reversed if it didn’t work out.
Update: I am glad to say that back in January of 2016, I met someone who used to be in love with another transgender female named Wendy Carlos, a keyboardist and composer of electronic classical music. She, meaning my former partner, became my soul mate and has allowed me access to anything I wanted to know about living as a female. I did tell her my reasons for not wanting to transition with today’s standards, though, and she is fine with that.
Science has shown, statistically anyway, that female babies tend to mature faster than male babies. Some female babies tend to be mellow when they are first born, that is, they would not cry or anything. My mother had always told me that I looked at her with a sedate expression on my face. My dad told me that my mum was mistaken, that I did indeed cry when I was born. Maybe he made me believe that was true, for he probably didn’t want to admit that his queer child was any different than he was. So, could this signify that I have a female’s brain inside a male’s body, which was recently coined ‘Harry Benjamin Syndrome’ (HBS)? Could it be related to psychology and environmental factors, as well as biology, like the things that made me read those romance novels all the time? Did reading them so much rewire my personality and my brain chemistry? Was it because I was righter-more brained than left-brained? Is that why I like artistic and more intricate music than modern, popular music? If so, that might explain a lot. Is that also why I loved writing words more than I liked working with math? I have always referred to the thing that I write in as a diary, not a journal, despite what others say.
Another trait I found really attractive in a certain group of people was something I didn’t quite discover until after I came out to myself. When I was still conforming to live as a guy, somehow I always hated it whenever I asked other guys how they did something amazing, and they’d be , like, ‘Buzz off’, or, ‘Go and figure it out yourself!’ Well, after I started being myself, I learned that most guys would give more of their attention to me because they generally assume that girls were dumb. So, I would often do that to really get a guy talking and explain things to me, and that is what I really find hot. Now, that is not to say that I am stupid, it is just a tactful way to get information. You might be thinking that I shouldn’t always be given things on a platter, but again, I think there needs to be a balance.
So, now that I have unladen my burden off my shoulders, I literally and figuratively feel light as a feather.
From this point on, I am okay with whatever happens. If you find this too much to absorb, take some time to think about it. That’s why I got myself new e-mail addresses, new Skype accounts, and new social media accounts, so as to try and distance or rid myself of my wretched past as much as possible. I chose Princess Ozma as one of my screen names because in the Wizard of Oz, she was originally born a girl, but an evil witch turned her into a boy. Since he was so young, he had no idea that he was to grow up a princess when the witch was forced to reverse her incantation. I found it a total coincidence when I first saw that in Being Emily, by Rachel Gold.
I have been brave. I grew and so did those around me. I hung on, even if I had to wait just a little longer. I know it now; it gets more than better. It gets amazing and astounding. If I could reach my past, I’d tell them what I’ve learned.
I was a lot more loved than I ever dared to know.
Every time a new friend told me how extremely supportive they were, I felt like there had always been open arms I could not see.
And when I die, when it’s time for me to go, I want to come back as the person I am now.
I want to come back as me. Love will come, and it’ll come unconditionally.
I know that what I said here was extremely deep and depressing, but I just wanted to share with you all how I flat-out felt about all of this. I have spent many years on this topic. I’ve regrouped and joined new organisations that are taking me under their wing and walking me through the process. Again, I’d like to point out that I currently see myself… feel myself to be what I like to call gender-neutral or androgynous, that is, neither being male nor female. People are constantly under the impression that you should choose between one or the other. That is not true. There are many other possibilities that are outside the binary. Besides, some people are born with undetermined genitalia, so they are termed intersex. There are chimeric or mosaic and who are true hermaphrodites. Furthermore, I will not use any amenities that require you to match your genitalia to your identity. I will, from now on, use a unisex lavatory, or if one is not available, I will suffer until a change is made in Western culture. Besides, it wasn’t needed a thousand years ago to know what sex or gender one was. This is simply an attempt to oppress those who are different and continue to put them down. And say to those who blame us for the way we chose to fight. Sometimes there are battles which are more than black or white. Why did I not put my sword down when justice was my right? Make Them Hear You, from Ragtime Remember, all lives matter!
Finally, to close this out, I’m going to take you through a very special song that inspired me to write this document. Let’s pretend you’re in a big auditorium and you heard a concert grand piano strike the first few notes. A chorus sighs in time to the music twice.
If you are left feeling deeply saddened by these words, that’s how I felt when I listened to this song every time.
You’ll know what a daily struggle it is to play the role of something I am not. I hope you have the chance to accept me for who I am. If you can’t, that’s okay. I have other friends who would gladly welcome me with jollity and sincerity.
If you ever get the chance, please do so. I encourage anyone, young or old, tall or short, light or heavy, etc. to go to their nearest biobank facility and donate blood cords, milk teeth, body fat, anything before it is too late. You can live forever, and you will want to thank me later. Be careful, though, for the world is currently overpopulated, so make your choice wisely. You could also make periodic backups of your DNA in case you got a viral disease in the future that. You could potentially restore your DNA with the backup you made! Be careful about befriending people who will keep dying if you choose to live in eternity. (The Fountain of Youth).
Again, I would strongly suggest that you read this letter in its entirety before asking questions or making assumptions.
Thank you for listening, for understanding, for caring.
Now, it’s time to return you back to your consciousness. Think about how the car you are in is gently tilting you forward, the roaring wind gently subsiding as the cushion gradually weakens beneath the air skis. You start to feel more awake as the car continues to be more vertical. It starts to lower you down as it prepares to park on the launchpad. Snap! The sound breaks the spell and the doors open, revealing a ramp for you to get back out.
Remember, as you leave the capsule, this is not a good-bye. This is a big hello! I’m going to count from one to five to wake you up even further.
One, you’re still oblivious of your surroundings, but you slowly start to be more aware.
Two, feeling more awake now.
Three, the sounds of the ride slowly fade out. You start to feel some parts of your body.
Four, the sounds of reality gradually increase in volume.
Five, you’re awake now. Thank you.
Oaths and Vows
I, Ulysses Harmony Garcia, also known as Heavenly Harmony, hereby acknowledge and affirm wholeheartedly to my vow that I — will, under any circumstance whatsoever, refrain from dressing in and or partaking of any outfits and ceremonial events where gender-based requirements are an absolute necessity, especially one of a masculine nature. One of such major ceremonies are weddings, where the wedding assistants are assigned a gender-based position delegated by the persons getting married. If I find that I am assigned to such a position which does not meet my specifications, I shall undoubtedly withdraw from the event forthwith.