Dear genitals,
I had that dream about you again. The one where you’re not there. Well, you are there you’re just different. That dream is the only time I’m able to feel some peace. The only time things make sense. I wish things didn’t have to be like this, but you cause me so much dysphoria I’m not surprised that even in my subconscious I’m coping with your existence. Dreaming of a different reality in order to feel comfortable. What a strange thing it is to wake up and not even know what body you have at first. Waking up in tears because of the realization that you’re still here. And yet it’s not your fault. It's not your fault I was socialized this way. It's not your fault that you’re seen and associated with only one type of identity and person. That society has refused to broaden it’s understanding of body and gender. It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. I’m trying my best with what limited resources I have. We’ve made it this far together, hopefully I can continue to unlearn enough to survive another 30 years with you.
Love,
A