I’m Trans. I’m Human. I’m a Weird Old Lady.
A response to the Prism & Pen writing prompt: I’m LGBTQ, but You Don’t Know THIS About Me.
My wardrobe has entirely too many dresses, and I need to do something about all the shoes. All just suburban girl problems, which would be nothing really, but for an accident of birth.
You see, when I was born, the doctor told my folks they had a healthy baby boy. He was wrong, of course, but the mistake was understandable. Still, that little technical oversight makes me a transgender person, with a gender identity that doesn’t match what Mom and Dad were told.
Does knowing that I am a transgender person mean that you now know everything about me? That one little word hardly describes my life and how I live it. I would have to say it is almost irrelevant to my daily life. Take Thursday, for example…
I woke up about 8:30 in the morning, in bed with my wife and three cats. The cats were very well-rested, no doubt recovered already from walking back and forth across us at about four in the morning. My wife and I were a bit groggy but started our day with a kiss. I propped myself up in bed while she went into the hall to fetch our morning coffees.
