Jump to content
  • Welcome to the TransPulse Forums!

    We offer a safe, inclusive community for transgender and gender non-conforming folks, as well as their loved ones, to find support and information.  Join today!

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

Laurette

Duet

Recommended Posts

Laurette

Duet

By Laurette & Bob

 

Am I him,

Or am I her

My mind tells me one thing

And my body presents the other

 

Not fitting in

But accepted by men

Wanting acceptance

But excluded by women

 

She appeared within him

Much to his surprise

Confusion, understanding

Yet his whole life it defies

 

We’re confused,

Scared to the bone.

Surrounded by others,

Yet, somehow, always alone.

 

She exists

She is real

But her public appearance

Is denied with much zeal

 

She exists

But must remain hidden

Carefully concealed

As an odious midden

 

She has her life

So completely hidden

Only called forth

When safely bidden

 

He exists

He is real

His public appearance

Is propped up with much zeal

 

 

 

 

He exists

He is always on display

To do otherwise

Would cause much dismay

 

He lives his life

In so much pain

Nurtures and protects

For others to gain

 

He’s been through so much

And lived his life

but now it’s her turn

though the cost is much strife

 

There’s so much missed time

She already regrets

Is it asking too much

To live some before the sun sets

 

She feels trapped

So does he

She by his body

He by what she needs to be

 

She’s eager, excited,

Impatient to go

He’s nervous, frightened

Sees the need to go slow

 

She awoke inside him

Much to his dismay

Now he cherishes her

More than he can convey

 

We exist

But we are trapped

Our future course

Is territory unmapped

 

 

 

 

 

We are real

We’ve been given the trust

We are depended on by others

So continue on we must

 

She gives him hope

He provides inner strength

Together, maybe,

They can journey the full length.

 

Am I him

Or am I her

Something of which

I’m never sure

 

But I do know

That together

We

Are me

Share this post


Link to post
Charlize

Thanks.  I can certainly relate to much of your poem.

 

Hugs,

 

Charlize

Share this post


Link to post
BlindWillow

I really like how you've woven together the two perspectives of your previous poems into a union of the two here. It's a creative way to illustrate the challenge of weaving together all the different threads of identity and history that characterizes the transgender experience. Thank you for sharing it.

Share this post


Link to post

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

  • Who's Online   9 Members, 0 Anonymous, 117 Guests (See full list)

    • Cyndee
    • claire1000
    • MaryMary
    • LittleRed
    • Tori M
    • Shay
    • DeeDee
    • Katharina
    • Mary Jane
  • Topics With Zero Replies

  • Forum Statistics

    • Total Topics
      71,346
    • Total Posts
      648,257
  • Member Statistics

    • Total Members
      7,071
    • Most Online
      8,356

    gender-dysphoric
    Newest Member
    gender-dysphoric
    Joined
  • Today's Birthdays

    1. Freyer
      Freyer
      (49 years old)
  • Posts

    • Shay
      You do what feels good to you - after all your opinion is the most important anyway 👍👍
    • Tori M
      I like boat neck tops, or at least a deep V.  All of that bare skin is definitely a distraction.  My boobs are wide-spaced so I've bought bras appropriate and comfortable with that but I guess I should try something that gives me a little cleavage and just deal with the odd feeling.  Can you tell I prefer comfort over looks? LOL  Now, if I lived in some place that had summers (there I go again! lol), I would just live in shorts, sandals and tank tops.
    • Tori M
      That's excellent, Patti, thanks for sharing it!  I've never liked the phrase "coming out"... indeed, when I tell someone it feels much more like "letting them in".
    • Shay
      I just remembered another song that my producer mentioned to me - he had a relationship with this lady and when I heard her version of IMAGINE I was floored - she re-invented it and made it her own and it makes me cry to this very day and I haven't even started HRT yet... gosh I probably won't be able to stop once I do start.    
    • Shay
      love the wonderful opening sequencce is Smooth Operator  
    • Tori M
      Kudos on finding yourself at such a young age.  I don't know that the doubt ever goes away, but after 17 years of being out, in, now out again, it has shrunken to a minimal, occasional thing.  Personally, I've only watched/read a couple of regret stories and they were confirmation to me that "that's not me".  I don't believe our influences/decisions should come from external sources.  I've long focused on listening to my internal thoughts and feelings.  I like your exercise of writing in both genders.  Keep doing that and eventually it might start leaning one way or the other, or not, and that's ok too.  I've never had the experience of feeling like a man, but I think at age 16 feeling partly both would be normal.  Yea, I think the current isolation has everyone feeling disoriented.  Our brains are wired to receive feedback from others and without that, it's no wonder we feel a little lost right now.  I would not calculate this bewildering social situation into my finding of myself. "...Super old"... That's cute. {giggle} 😉  I'm 54.  Welcome to TP, btw!  I hope we can be of some help in your journey.   Tori
    • 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.    
  • Upcoming Events

×
×
  • Create New...