Seventeen

I made a new friend recently. She’s in high school, and came into the bookstore where I work the other day. She came out in 9th grade, and I think is going to be a senior.

She’s 17.

Seventeen.

I wrote about the time/situation when I was 17 in my blog. So long ago. By the time I was 17, I’d forced myself to stop dressing — to stop “needing” to express my feminine side. I was going to be what society wanted me to be: a Man.

I wasn’t very good at it. Women I wanted to date would say things like “I see you as one of the girls” or “why can’t I find a guy like you?” (Insert: “that I’m attracted to”). So I compensated with Anger, fighting, and heavy drinking. In drinking, I found something I did well — better than almost anyone else. I actually got some respect from my peers because on my ability to imbibe. And it was cool . . .  when I was in my early 20s. My thirties? Forties? Not so much.

I wanted the alcohol to cover the Pain. It didn’t. It couldn’t.

I started living my Truth at 47.

So I met this 17 year old, who had been living her Truth for almost three years. She seemed tentative. Afraid. She was looking for a CD by Against Me, which we didn’t have. But we DID have Laura Jane Grace’s book, which she bought. I deduced she was Trans, and told her I was as well. I gave her a “I’ll Go With You Pin.” That night, she found me on Facialbook, and we chatted for a bit.

I wanted to Cry.

I wanted to cry for what I never had. Transitioning young. A long life living my Truth. Perhaps even happiness.

I wanted to cry for the future she faced in Trump’s America — and the fact that we, as a society, had failed her and those like her. My generation, “Generation X” were failing those who came after us; and we were doing it by not properly preparing them for Life, as well as not doing EVERYTHING we could to stop evil.

I wanted to Cry for all I lost, and the fact that she may still lose so much. I told her that me and mine fought for her and her generation so they wouldn’t have to suffer like we did. Just as the generations before me — people like Donna Rose, Lana Moore, and Mara Keisling — fought for me. We were making so much progress. Until November.

How did the President celebrate Pride Month? He addressed an anti-LGBT group.

This girl is seventeen. She will, God willing, long outlive me. My time is limited.

What can I do? How can I do more? How can I look her in the eye if I don’t? If I fail? When my time comes to go to the Light, will I be able to look my dear late Sister, Lisa, in the eyes and tell her that I succeeded?

An older woman just came through my line at cash today. She had 2 books concerning her child coming out as gay — her college age daughter.

I just smiled and did my job. She told me her daughter had just come out as gay. . .

“But at least she isn’t one of those trannies.”

I kept smiling, not saying a word. She looked at me . . . looked into my eyes . . . and said “did I just say the wrong thing?”

I handed her the bag and her receipt, and wished her a good day. I never stopped smiling my fake retail smile.

She left quickly.

She found those books on a display I’d made for Pride Month.

But was that enough?

Will it ever be?

Be Well.

What do you think? Login here to comment.

Tags: featured, opinion, politics, Transgender

Category: Transgender Body & Soul, Transgender Opinion, Transgender Politics