{"sf1_id":1226361,"sf2_id":"ynZ3ZVp1","title":"Does it really matter?","author":"zetasyanthis","words":282,"posted_at":"2017-08-14T00:49:00.000Z","tags":["Pain","Poem","Transgender","transition"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1226361-does-it-really-matter","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/ynZ3ZVp1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/0c/98/0c9863b2-0971-4f4e-abdb-656be18b2f27","description":"#13 of Poems\n\nWhile discussing time off requests (related to my name change) with my boss today, he kind of stared at me and asked if all of this was really worth it. I... didn't know how to answer him, how to truly communicate what it means or how important it is. And I know he didn't mean to injure me by asking, but I've been hurting pretty badly since he asked.\nThis poem is written for him. I hope it can help, at least a very little bit.","content":"Yes it really matters.  \nYes, it hurts inside.  \nYes, to all the fees and care  \nto heal my broken mind.  \n  \nYes, to doctor's visits.  \nYes, to DMV.  \nYes, to lines unending,  \nso at last I can be.  \n  \nYes, I say, or tell myself,  \nthe one who hurts inside,  \nthe tortured, wounded little girl  \nwho's barely still alive.  \n  \nYes, to tears unending.  \nto terror, shaking, cold.  \nYes, I'm terrified of this,  \nbut my heartstrings must hold.  \n  \nI don't know how, but I must try  \nto live with what I have  \nto give myself a chance at life  \nas I now truly am.  \n  \nMere weeks ago, a mem'ry came,  \nmyself, at four years old.  \nMy heart was broken even then,  \nI could not fit the mold.  \n  \nI did not know for longest time  \nhow to describe my pain  \nor even what transgender was  \nmy hurt had not a name.  \n  \nAnxiety, in spades, you see,  \nconspired me to grip  \nwith daggers deep within my heart  \nand threat that they would rip.  \n  \nAnd so it took a thousand days,  \nand even more besides,  \nbefore I trusted anyone  \nand let them see inside.  \n  \nI trusted you; I trust you now;  \nI trust you with my life;  \nfor though you may not understand,  \nothers would my throat knife.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; I know it's hard to understand.  \nI know it makes no sense.  \nBut know the changes you see now  \nare just to match the rest.  \n  \nThe part of me that hides in fear  \non almost every day,  \nnow risks her heart to open  \nand to attempt to say,  \n  \n\"It's not that I'm becoming.  \nIt's that I've always been.  \nAnd every step that helps affirm  \nhelps my mind learn again.\"  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poems","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1226360-on-broken-wings.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1226365-the-torch-is-lit.json"}}