xoros

I just watched Ma Vie En Rose. I just finished crying after watching Ma Vie En Rose.

Sometimes, no matter how together I am, how much positivity I feel in my life, something will remind me that it’s built on a fundamental mismatch. That I’m making the best I can of a fairly crappy hand. Sometimes it’s more than a little reminder.

I have made peace with myself. I have come to an understanding with my body, with my dysphoria. I accept it, I own it. But… I still hate it. I don’t hate my body. I hate my discomfort with it. I hate that I have to deal with this feeling of wrongness.

Sometimes I can almost… almost forget it. Sometimes it rears up inside me to put a big black cloud over me. I wish it didn’t.

The child in the film decides that her second X chromosome got misplaced when she was born and it ended up in the rubbish bin, leaving her with a Y and so a male body. I wish I knew what had happened to my other X. Life would be a whole lot simpler if it had been aimed better.

I don’t believe in quick fixes. I don’t believe that I can be magicked ‘better’ – I’m not ill for a start. Just sometimes the thought of what I missed out on by being born transgendered – a ‘normal’ life and sense of self – makes me melancholic and a little self pitying. A yearning for my life to have been in pink from the start.