To the Once and Sometimes Boy

To the Once and Sometimes Boy,

You have been my loyal protector for 23 years. You have uncomplainingly been the visage that the world expects to see of me and you've been my strongest supporter. Do you remember when I first crafted you? I do. Kindergarten. Do you remember Travis? *Sigh* Go ahead, cringe. I do; every time. I don’t remember what day it was, or even the month. I remember it was bitterly cold, though. Even in South Georgia. My hands were cold. I've always had terrible circulation in my hands and feet. I held Travis’ hand. I didn't mean anything by it. I just wanted to get my hand warm and he was my friend. I remember, even in Kindergarten how they called me gay and teased me mercilessly. Excluded me from everything. Beat me. And the teacher basically let it happen.

I want to tell you about what I remember from before I needed you. Before I fashioned you to be my guardian. I won’t lie and say that it was an easy time for me, because it wasn't. I didn't want to be a loner. No one wanted to be around me and so I contented myself with being alone. I read a lot. I remember I liked being with girls. Just in their presence was nice enough. I liked playing with them. I wish I had continued. You remember, I’m sure, when we tried to continue hanging out with the girls. We still have those scars. Behind the left ear? Long blonde hair and bizarre, unjustified anger. Glasses, maybe. It was a blur. But you protected me as best you could. There were six or eight of them, after all.

I’ve never said it before, but thank you.

I let you take control from day to day because it was very clear that I was not welcome in the world. And eventually, inexorably, you became me. It was you that got us in the gym every chance we could so we could get ripped and people would quit picking on us. It was you that turned us into a half-ass bodybuilder at the tender age of ten. It was you that broke that kid’s nose with an apple in a lunch bag (good shot, BTW). I always took you off, though, before I went to bed and at night, and I, an unnamed empress of nothing, danced alone in an empty ballroom until daylight. Is it any wonder that I cherish my sleep?

You were the version of me that my parents saw. They only ever knew you. They don’t think they know me and I don’t know if they could ever love me the way they love you. After all, you are their child far more than I ever was. You know what dad says, “Actions speak louder than words.” All they ever talk about with me is you. They are terrified of losing you. They think that you are me. Or rather, that this body we share belongs to you and that I am the mask. I have always been jealous of your relationship with them. Understand, though, this isn't about you, mom, and dad. This is about you and I.

We had some scary times in the Navy, didn't we? You, being without fear, lead us through it all. I couldn't have done it without you. Through the dark times, through the dangerous times, through the exciting times, you led us. Did you know that I spent my nights weeping? It’s not fair of me to say that I surrendered years of my life to you, but that society demanded you for years of my life. And I, an exiled nameless empress of nothing danced by starlight, with no one.

We grew old, it felt. You by day and nameless me by night. I spoke to God for us, since I am the real “us” and you are a mask I made to protect me. I spent so many nights begging for the pain to go away. One night still I hold dearly in my memory. It was the worst of times. There was no “best of times” to it. It was just awful. You listened to your obnoxious music (I got my revenge, though, didn't I?), spoke with that obnoxious swagger that was basically required to avoid getting gunwale-stomped, and Charissa… She had just broken up with us (she thought she was going out with you, which led to a conversation which offended me WAY more than she thinks it did. What can I say, I've always had a soft spot for her and the trouble with opening up is that people can hurt you). I just wanted to fade away. It all meant nothing. That night, God cradled me in His hand and comforted me. I've never felt so close to Him. I wept so much. I don’t think there were words, but definitely a feeling. “Don’t give up, child.” “Child.” There was no name. I don’t know if that was significant, but it felt like it to me.

I do have to credit you this: you got us Samantha. Bravo. Also, I'll never forgive you for that. But, as miserable as she made us, I have to say that there were some wonderful times as well. And I wouldn't trade them for anything. There is almost nothing I wouldn't give to get back the times we had in Miami. That’s where I first really, genuinely began to refine myself into an actual identity. I, the unnamed empress of nothing began to tire of her starlight exile. It took 20 years, but I finally accepted what I had known all along: I am not you. I am not a man.

But I let you have it for a long time following that. After all, you got us Samantha. She was interested in you. Oh, the irony there… If I had known that she would have been just as interested in me… But speculating on an alternate past is silly. What’s done is done. But it was your persona that pushed us into the Coast Guard. If you’ll recall, I opposed the idea of going back in. Strongly. But jobs were scarce and this is the only one we could find, so… It really suited you, being a coast guardsman. Remember the Guardian Ethos?

I am America’s Maritime Guardian

I serve the citizens of the United States

I will protect them

I will defend them

I will save them

I am their shield

For them I am Semper Paratus

And so on…

It’s SO you. It always has been. That is your raison d’etre. You were made to protect me. To defend me. To save me. It comes naturally to you. And, having been a part of me for so long, it comes naturally to me as well, the compulsion to protect. Well… The Guard had other plans. We never fit in there. We were too used to being on the Navy’s war footing. Then we were no longer war fighters. We didn't like the Coast Guard’s way of doing things, so we tried to streamline the processes. And in doing so, we pissed a lot of people off. But we didn't deserve what happened next.

The world ended in fire and ruin all around us and all we could do was watch. I made your job very hard in this time. I sobbed uncontrollably, sometimes at work. We lost everything. We didn't just hit bottom, we punched a 65-foot deep crater in the bottom.

If you know nothing else about that time, know this: YOU DID NOT FAIL ME. You've never failed me. But the world that we had worked so hard to build was now smoldering rubble at our feet. There was nothing left here for us. There was nowhere to go but up. So I decided that the nameless empress shall be nameless no more. That I should retake the domain which is my birthright, my own life. And I would be faceless no more. I had less and less need of you and so I took some of my life back. And I realized that I had been silent and nameless and faceless for too long.

It’s not that I don’t need you. The world is a dangerous place for people like me. And it’s not that you've out served your purpose. I’m sure I’ll have to call on your strength once or twice yet in my life. It’s not even that I don’t want you. God, life would be so much easier if I could just be you all the time.

It’s that I can’t let you stay. This is my life and you, a fiction created to protect me from the world, have been living it for me. I can’t let that continue. I missed my own childhood. I gave you my parents. I let you live my best years for me. I have no past but the night, and I can’t let my life pass by in this way: in the stewardship of a fiction.

I got the idea to write this from a video I saw on the internet the other day. The man was reciting a poem he wrote, a letter to the girl he used to be. He ended it with a poignant line that brought tears to my eyes:

“P.S. I never hated you.”

That's a wonderful sentiment. I want to say that to you, but I fear that it’s not true. Like dad says, “Actions speak louder than words.” All the agonized time spent staring in the mirror, looking at you looking back at me, trying to see myself through your ridiculous jawline, your awful chin, your powerful neck… Failing to look past the hair growing on our face like a Lovecraftian blight and despairing, all the hours spent and the pain I’ve put us through trying to shape you into something that resembles me… I could say “I never hated you” until I’m blue in the face, but the words don’t really match the evidence, do they?

I never actively hated you, but I tried to change you into something I didn't hate, and isn't that the same thing? So here is my gratitude and my apology: I’ll put you in a box and keep a special place for you in my heart. I’ll never forget you and I’ll always be strong because of you. Go to your well-deserved rest, now your watch has ended.

Love,
Sophia

P.S. For what it's worth, I never meant to hate you.

Written by
Sophia-Helene Mees de Tricht

My bio. I'm 31, a student after ten years in the military, and a rocket scientist. I live in Florida (oh, so temporarily), and I'm a transgender woman. I don't really like the whole MTF/FTM scheme because at the end of the day, that's about genitals and I don't let them define me in any sense. I wrote TTOASB in March of 2014, I think.