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Guest Rose

Purgatory (I am Waiting)

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Guest Rose

I am waiting

For an email.


The blue nail polish

Comes off like so much


Burned in a chemical fire.


I wish I were

As beautiful as her.

It doesn’t matter--

Who she is.


I am waiting

For a message

On Facebook.


The news sites

Don’t post new articles

Fast enough.


In my neon-illuminated


I am bored of hiding

From the world above.


I am waiting

For something

to happen.


The harsh light

Renders my face ugly,

Always sneering

Ever so slightly

Into the mirror.


Can I be a real girl––


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Thank you for sharing your poem.  i certainly understand.





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Jennifer T

This touches me deeply. I've sat there.

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  • Posts

    • Shay
    • Shay
      good discussion - I learned a lot, I used an eyebrow pencil to darken the contour above my tiny breasts and rubbed in to accentuate the little I have and that helps draw the eye away from my Ichobod Crane Adam's Apple... 🙂
    • Willow
      A Story of a life not lived   When I was a little boy I stumbled upon this strange playground. It was desolate but for one small girl, who was sitting in a swing with her head held down. She had such a sad disposition. I had never met her before but somehow I knew her. I walked over to her and sat in the swing next to hers. I asked, "What is your name?" "Natilie," she replied in a quiet and solemn voice, not even lifting her head to look at me. I inquired, "What are you doing here all alone?" With the same monotone whisper, she answered, "Waiting . . . ." "Waiting for what?" I said. "To come out and play," she murmured. Just then, I heard my mother calling me. "I have to go, my mother is calling me home," I explained. With those words I left her sitting there. I did not think about Natilie for some time and had almost forgot about her as the years rolled by and I got busy with my friends and with grade school. Then, one day I remembered the playground and I went back there, in some ways hoping she was not there and in other ways that she was. As I approached the location of our first encounter, I saw the same figure parked in the same swing with the same saddened countenance, but she was not a little girl anymore. She had grown up somewhat. I was almost afraid to approach her but something drew me to sit next to her. "It's me again," I blurted. I was not sure what she would say. "Would she be angry," I wondered, seeing that I had stayed away so long. "Would she be happy to see me," I asked myself. She lifted her head up and looked into my eyes and with a clearer voice she asked, "Is it time? Is it time to come out and play?" Before I even had a chance to contemplate her words, I found my mouth surprisingly uttering the words, "No." "I have friends and school and my parents expect things of me," I explained-- "You just can't." I left in a hurry, hoping by some means that I would not see her again. Time passed. I was full of youthful energy and vision, given over to the prescribed role ordained for me, coerced into believing that this path would bring me happiness in life. Junior high, high school, college, a great job, a wife, a house, and then a son. Natilie seemed but a distant memory, though  I did on rare occasion walk by that desolate playground, but never went in. Then it happened on one quiet evening while I was rocking my newborn son to sleep. I heard this quiet sob. It was Natilie but how and why now? Another year passed. I only heard that soft cry a few other times, and I continued to ignore it. But, during one of my evening strolls I happened upon that desolate playground without intent. "Huh?" I muttered to myself. "How did I get here?" That soft sob had now became a much louder cry. Out of human compassion, I sought out Natilie in the dim light and found her in that same swing. Her head was still facing the ground with tears rolling off of her cheeks. She was no longer a girl but had become a full grown woman. "Why are you crying?" I asked her with concern. She had not responded promptly nor did it seem that she even acknowledged my presence. Before I had a chance to repeat my question, she looked up at me and her expression turned into anger. "How long?!" she barked. I was taken back by her sudden shift in disposition and nearly fell off my swing. "Why are you so angry with me?" I snapped back, not minding her words. She continued. "How long will keep stealing my life? " "Your life?" I remarked with protest, "This is my life." I was not too happy about the tone of this encounter and got up from my swing to leave in a huff. But, before I had a chance to stand on my feet, she said in a very solemn tone of voice, "Before you leave me here again, let me ask you one last question . . Are you happy?" With that she turned her face toward the ground, blocking me out of sight. "Happy?" I could not stop thinking about this simple question. "No, I have not been happy." I thought that I was happy. I should be happy. After all, I have everything that anyone would want in life -- an education, a great job, family and friends, a wife, a house, and now a newborn son. I should be on the top of the world, but alas I still felt empty inside. I could not stop thinking about Natilie, seeing her in the corner of my eye, in the dim reflection of a store window, and hearing her quiet sob in the distance. I became obsessed with Natilie. All the years of avoiding her, trying to forgot about her, rationalizing her existence, pushing her away, and for what? I could no longer fight her. She had a right to live the life that was taken from her. I knew what I had to do if I ever wanted to be happy. I had a calm in my heart that night on the evening that I eagerly sought out the desolate playground, where Natilie sat for so many years on that same swing. But, as I approached the dimly lit area where her swing usually hung, she was not there. "Am I too late?" I thought in a panic. Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around with a sudden jolt, I was greeted by a standing figure. It was Natilie and she had a smile on her face. "Is it time?" she asked. "Is it time for me to `come out and play'?" Looking into her eyes, I responded with a smile on my face and in a gentle voice, "Yes, it's time."     This is the story of my life.  This may not be the best Forum but its where my friends are.  I wrote this for all of us.   Willow
    • Shay
      love the wonderful opening sequencce is Smooth Operator  
    • LittleRed
      Hi KayC,   So to be totally transparent. Before getting on HRT, I read lots of stories of people saying that they really felt a difference as soon as they got on HRT and other trans people were telling me that I'll "feel" a lot better and I'll just "know" that it was meant to be. I feel like I was given this impression that HRT was going to shoot rainbows in the sky and I'd be on cloud 9 or something.   To my disappointment, I really didn't feel anything different when I started HRT. After a month, it really made me question if it was even working because I didn't feel any different and I wasn't experiencing anything magical or feeling any more feminine just by being on estradiol. What the hell was going on?   I had conversations with my therapist about this and basically to my understanding is that hormones don't necessarily have any immediate affect on how you feel or on your emotions. Over time, you experience change. People who immediately feel something amazing may be having a placebo affect (not to offend anyone, this is coming from my therapist, not me).   Over the course of several months, I began to notice some things:   1) My chest became sore, which as annoying as it is, it feels wonderful and affirming knowing something is starting happening there. 2) My skin felt quite different. Very soft compared to what I'm used to feeling. I feel like I really like my skin for the first time! 3) I noticed that I don't sweat at night when I sleep and my hair doesn't get so oily (it was really bad. Pre-HRT, I had to take a shower every morning because my hair was so greasy the next day. I couldn't stand it and I obsessed over my morning shower just to be able to wash my hair). 4) At some point, I started to notice (like a month ago) that I am able to cry. Something that would happen maybe once every 5 years under extreme circumstances. I found myself crying over a stressful situation at work that I normally would only feel anger or numb. 5) Which brings me to... with pre-HRT, my emotional states were: amused, numb, depressed, or angry. Now I feel like I'm just beginning to feel other emotions. I don't necessarily feel as "lifeless" as I used to.   I'm still going through problems with depression, doubt about transitioning, etc. But I feel like HRT is helping. Just don't come into HRT with the expectation that you're going to feel something significant right away. It didn't happen to me and it was really discouraging for a while.
    • Jani
      A great song.  The sentiment in the opening lyrics is needed so much now.   Jani
    • Jani
      I like that perspective!  Much more positive!  Jani
    • Jani
      Here's one
    • Jani
      Oh that poor girl!  Heels too high and too much foot crossing.    
    • Cyndee
      @KymmieL - congrats on the on hearing the magic word, feels good ! and good luck with the dealership in Portlandia.   Today it's overcast here, expecting a little rain, woke up with a little bit of a head ache, the coffee however took that out, feel better now after a few cups. I'm back at work now, but have a few minutes between tasks to post online here.   Hope everyone's day is going well   C
    • Patti Anne
      Hi All. My gender therapist sent this to me. It kind of gives a little different perspective on coming out. I really liked it.   .
    • Jani
      Hello @Mmindy I'm sorry to read of all you've gone through but sometimes we must go through a "trial by fire" in order to survive.  I came out to my spouse after 40 years of marriage and we had a rough patch as well.  But things are much better now and we are both more understanding of each of our needs.  I wish you all my best.  Please keep the lines of communication open.   Hugs, Jani
    • Timber Wolf
      Good morning everyone,🐺   Happy birthday Freyer!🎂 Hope you have a great day!   Lots of love, Timber Wolf🐾
    • Charlize
      Mindy, when i started to open to my wife we went through many of the same ups and downs.  I know how painful that is for both of you.  I tried to remember that i had known and hidden my issues for years.  I'm quite sure she would have not accepted or stayed with me if she had known early in our relationship.  I had been too ashamed and fearful to be honest. When after 40 years together i came out we went through some very rough times, very like what you describe. Time ,patience, honesty, understanding slowly got us through.  For a long time she didn't want to be out with me. "What if people....." was a fear for her.  Little by little we found our companionship and love grow,  We have now been married 49 years and perhaps now that honesty, forgiveness and trust have grown our love has grown as well.   Hugs,   Charlize
    • Timber Wolf
      Hi Alayna, Welcome to Transpulse. I'm glad you're here!   Lots of love, Timber Wolf🐾
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