I was gunna transition, but I realized I was going to look like Willem Dafoe in drag. Not that alone would have stopped me, he just kinda looks like my mom there, and I hate that woman.
I just don’t want her specter staring back at me from reflective surfaces, as I carelessly cast my unfocused gaze into darkened rooms as I pass by for the rest of my life.
Although, if anyone would come back from the dead to torment me from the shadows for the rest of my natural life, it would be that woman.
I was gunna transition, but I realized I was going to look like Willem Dafoe in drag. Not that alone would have stopped me, he just kinda looks like my mom there, and I hate that woman.
I just don’t want her specter staring back at me from reflective surfaces, as I carelessly cast my unfocused gaze into darkened rooms as I pass by for the rest of my life.
Although, if anyone would come back from the dead to torment me from the shadows for the rest of my natural life, it would be that woman.
I assumed I was going to be the ugliest woman in the universe, but got to the point where I was ok with that to get to stop pretending to be a man.
Turns out I only look like my mom when I get my hair done like hers.
And once I figured out my style, I’m doing pretty well for myself.
Hey, that’s awesome. I’d love to stop pretending. Though artificially manifested, I would like to live authentically.