To Boldly Go

The poison nearly killed me, the antidote gave me back my soul.

Photo by Andalucía Andaluía on Unsplash

Through the eyes of a stranger, it’s been a five-year journey. Subtle signs, difficult to read, spanning into prior decade. I won’t contest the subtlety, it was intentional. I was surrounded by expectations and desires. This is your role, just keep dancing. Obligations to spouse, employees, and clients. To follow this new path would disrupt everyone and everything around me. Betrayed, disturbed, misguided, deceived — just some of the words scattered along my trail, like breadcrumbs laid down by those wishing for my return. But Mother Future’s whisper grew louder and more persistent.

“Boldly go where no one has gone before”.

Those within my clan recognize this statement’s complexity. I am not the first. Our existence spans eons. Many similar paths have been blazed. Advocates past and present. New brothers, sisters, and fluid souls. Parents to those of us newborn. We all know this journey. But for each it is unique. Parallel paths, never merging. But the storm through which we march is familiar. Torrential rains dampen spirits, lightning invokes fear. Some are washed away by flash floods, never to be seen again. Others consumed by raging fires, their spirit gone forever. We travel our path aware of these dangers, always vigilant. Trust a precious commodity.

All this for the freedom to be ourselves.

The author’s measured testosterone levels. In green are normal levels. She began HRT in August of 2021. Her bottom surgery in October of 2023.

My journey began with estrogen formulated. In pill I trust. This would begin to soothe the inner pain. My little blue pill would free the woman within. With time, I heard her quiet whisper. Changes subtle, physical and mental. The rage decreased. Love was tapping on the door. I wanted to let her in. She was kind and gentle, her peace alluring. But now I know my chemistry and hers were not in harmony. Mine resisted. He would not go without a fight. Needles probed life blood. The chemical battle raged. His hormones were diminished, but they fought to remain in control. “I can take you back. Hold my hand. Remember”.

I would not go. I would not take death’s hand.

Scalpel sharp excised his control. Artist’s hands wiped canvas clean. Black and white, now pastel bright. He was gone. A blank slate created. Shadowed demon now vanquished. My life again mine. My world is evolving swiftly; clouded emotions giving way to clarity, physical manifestations beautiful. Tears come suddenly. A smile for kindness random. Street bound strangers hugged and fed. I am not who I was, I am who I want to be.

I am boldly gone.

I write for me, I write for you.

I write for countless transgender few.

© Deborah Alina Schwarz, 2023.