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Rumble in the Emotional Jungle
I posted an article with photos of my transition on Medium recently. I have done that to seek validation, not so much from others but from myself.
I have since taken it down.
My male identity is still fighting to defend my marriage and existing life. My female gender is punching with the right hook/left upper cut powered by gender dysphoria. His constant defensive blocking is tiring him.
My gender rumble makes the George Foreman vs. Muhammad Ali championship boxing match on October 30, 1974, in Kinshasa, Zaire look like a bunch of girl scouts having a pillow fight. We are not fighting 10 rounds. This fight started when the bell rang four years ago to announce that I was transgender.
It’s to the finish.
We have been fighting bare-knuckled since.
My opponent in this gender battle hates the smile he sees in my photos because he knows he is losing the fight…and yet we seem to fight on.
We are in the final round when the boxers, out of sheer exhaustion, begin to hang on each other, sloppily throwing punches in a desperate desire to score the knock out.
He won’t give up and I won’t compromise so I am declaring a TKO.
I win.
