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I am the captain of my soul...



Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

Gerrie looked into the mirror and shrugged. The bruises had almost healed, and she was fairly confident that she’d be able to see out of her right eye with less of a blur.

“Will I look pretty once the swelling goes down,” she had asked the emergency room doctor. The woman nodded almost nervously until Gerrie reminded her that she hadn’t been ‘terribly pretty’ in the first place. Even with reconstruction, there was only so much her own surgeon could do given that she had started out a bit later than everyone else in the race to gender confirmation.

“Still…It’s not that bad.” She was worried about being too complimentary; as if wanting to believe in herself was a crime. She was pretty in a very rugged way, even if she didn’t see that. What was that movie? Different for someone?

She felt odd and almost guilty about including herself among the marginally attractive women in one of her support groups. It hurt as well to think that instead of having a hunk like Rupert Graves in her life, she had lost everything; her 'second' virginity, physical well-being, and most of her bank account when her boyfriend left.

The one thing he didn’t take, which was still very much intact if on the occasional tenuous side was her self-esteem. Her faith kept her strong, and her friends reminded her about something that she thankfully forgot only once and a while; that she was worth so much more than she could imagine, and that life and hope and love didn’t have to be foreign words in her vocabulary.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

It had seemed to most of her friends and especially her family that she had wasted so much time.

Why go to so many support groups?

I thought Danny was a nice guy? You know you could do worse, right?

Honey? Gerald? Don’t you know how foolish you are?

Honestly, Gerrie, you really deserve better than that…you seem to just invite trouble.

While those friends meant well, they could on all-too-frequent occasions be just as discouraging as Job’s comforters. And her family was equally divided. Her parents were angry with her for abandoning her gender and her sister and brother hated her for hurting Mom and Dad.

But she had something that kept her going; people who knew firsthand exactly what it was like to be rejected. Friends who were just a little bit further down the road in their own journey; helping her know that she wasn’t alone. And they challenged her to stay the course. Yes it was rough, and at times it could be excruciatingly painful to continue, but they knew and said as much to her that there really was no turning back once she had gone through with her surgery.

And she had dear friends who told her softly but firmly to stop letting people hit her. Too many times of making up with an abuser who was the one who needed to apologize by departing. And when Danny did leave, he made it clear it was all Gerrie’s fault. He held her choices against her even though he had been aware before they even started.

“You’re not even real!” His angry outburst hurt almost as much as the slap to her face. And while the pain had 'lessened,’ it still lingered well past the healing of her various bruises and sprains.

“You’re as real as anyone you’ll ever know, Ger…” One of the girls had made a strong effort to help her by baring her own soul; allowing everyone into her heart to know how much she also had despised herself. And Gerrie drank in the encouragement eagerly. She began to see the abuse as the fallacy, and her value as the truth.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

Too many years were left to wallow in self-pity or retreat to the habits of the past. Her commitment to her support groups went beyond what she derived from them. While she wasn’t all that far along in her journey of gender, so to speak, she had made long, confident strides about herself. She volunteered at a woman’s shelter on the weekend; an example to the women she met as someone who could and did turn away from self-condemnation and doubt.

And she continued to drink in the warm, rich nourishing strength that her friends gave to her. She moved away from her understandable but wasteful self-centeredness; giving made her a better person for her own benefit as well as those she helped. Gerrie grew and grew.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

“You look pretty good, honey,” she said to her reflection. She’d never be a Carolyn Cossey or an Andreja Pejic, but she was finally at a place where she accepted her beauty. Perhaps as 'pretty' as Hillary Swank or Tilda Swinton? Or maybe her mother, even if that was uncomfortable as hell!

And she also realized that while her happiness might grow by acceptance in a relationship, she indeed was the one who would determine her worth. Nothing that had been done to her or withheld from her made her what she was, but instead, her definition came from within; she decided who she was. And she knew she was good.



Invictus
by William Ernest Henley
1849-1903
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invictus

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Good story

Touching.

I would have left you a kudo but the button won't work right now. I'll try again later.

If you don't stand for something you'll fall for anything.

Strength has to come from within

littlerocksilver's picture

I wonder why people put up with abusive relationships. What is it that makes them come back again and again to the same bad choices. My two nieces, neither TG, have been involved in a string of abusive relationships. i keep hoping that the next one will be better. The younger of the two seems to have finally broken away, god I hope so. She's pregnant and they are moving in together. I often wonder how they kept falling into the trap they did. I know, I think, that their parents have a good relationship. Where does it come from?

Portia

What Strength and Power in us...

Ole Ulfson's picture

The poem always a favorite for it's strength and for the defiance of "fate." Both your story and the poem meld perfectly to show that our "fate" is only what we allow.

I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Thank you for sharing your strength,

Ole

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!

Good to read about

laika's picture

Glad to read about somebody has this much hope and determination.
Maybe it helps that Danny's lies are so transparent, his manipulations so obviously
self serving and rooted in his own bullshit that it illuminates the folly of her own
internal negativity, the old bad habits. Or I dunno, but I like this one a lot!
Very appropriate to the Spring/Renewal theme.
~hugs, ronni
.

Press on, press on through rock and rubble
Press on, press on through wind and storm
Sink your roots down deep into Earth and Water
Raise your petals high into Air and Fire
~~Peter Stampfel

.
The closest approximation to what it's like in my brain:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u08E7c-FRbU&t=4s

maybe this will be me someday

"And she also realized that her happiness might grow by acceptance in a relationship, she indeed was the one who would determine her worth. Nothing that had been done to her or withheld from her made her what she was, but instead her definition came from within; she decided who she was. And she knew she was good."

Maybe this will be me someday. Thank you for sharing this, sis.

DogSig.png

Oooh wince

kristina l s's picture

Being a semi literate type I must admit I don't know the poem in question, but the general sentiment comes through just fine. You have to believe in yourself, which is not arrogance or hubris or stupidity or even selfishness. It is simply knowing that you have a place and perhaps even a right to be. I don't get the return to abuse, but having a line of scar tissue through my top lip I get the resulting insecurity and perhaps fear of violence.

Shine on you Crazy Diamond or perhaps Hold your Head up... hey, whatever works, but the soul will survive, it's the flesh and psych that need propping up. It all comes around though the waiting can be tough. Hang in eh... and believe.

Kristina

Good Story, Good reminder

Drea,
I really liked this illustration of a basic human reality. We each must be "the decider" of our own worth, What other people think about me (most of them don't) is none of my business.

"Invictus" has been a life-long favorite of mine from the day I first read it and has saved my life and sanity again and again on my journey to wholeness.

Thank You...for all of your work.
Joani

Real darkness and real shine:)

I think that if he could read this the author of the poem would likely approve of the feel and emotion that just streams off of this.
Powerful Honey.
*Great Big Hugs*
Bailey.

Bailey Summers

Strength And Honour

joannebarbarella's picture

That may have only come from "Gladiator" and not be truly Roman, but as a salutation worth giving I offer it to you.

And as Bitch Cassidy said, "don't worry!"

Joanne

short and sweet.

Tilda or Hilary.... I'd rather be Hilary, if I had the choice..... so much more colourful a lady. xx

I Liked Hillary

The best when she bulked up for Million Dollar Baby, she looked awesome! What say you, Extravagance?

I think she should have done something similar for Boys Don't Cry. Her/his acting was great, but she looked like a stick, like skinny model skinny. I had trouble thinking how a transman would want to look that way, rather than have even a little more meat on his bones, like the way Brandon actually looked.

Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee