More than a Dragon

Your journey has been a path of your own making,

You knew your physical body did not match who you are,

You could not share your truth with family or community,

All your life in the Heart of Texas, you ventured to new lands,

To a place that would not only accept you but transform you,

You, like all women struggle with self-image and acceptance,

You found poetry as the outlet that allowed you to put it all into words.

We are surrounded by so much toxicity in media both social and non,

But there among tweets, posts, Tic-Tock, and YouTube videos,

You found community, a sisterhood of women like you but unlike too.

For decades I knew you, without knowing you, about you and your truth,

Only recently did you reveal your journey to me, that once you were another.

That revelation came from a place of trust, friendship, and audacity.

Then you gifted me with the opportunity to share the next phase of your journey,

Not only did you find the courage to reveal yourself to me, but to the world.

Your poet’s stream would venture beyond the riverbanks to the sea.

You would let yourself swim in an ocean of memoir and biography.

Willing yourself to let others know you are not different but the same.

This became an act of selflessness, the opposite of your original intention.

Your adult desire was to blend in, to not be seen as unique,

A full-fledged member of the sisterhood in fashionable clothes and high heels.

Your first transformation was not the unseen, but the seen, the forehead and face,

Selling hard-earned possessions to soften your features to the culture’s demands.

Society defines femininity, and you chose to obey its rules of being demure.

You learned to walk, to speak, to present yourself without a doubt as female.

As your book gained notoriety, you were asked to advocate for others.

You could not turn away; blending in would have to wait for another day.

You gave interviews, appeared in campaigns, was honored and lauded.

You allowed others to know what was possible: acceptance, understanding, and love.

But even you had to come to recognize that how to present is an individual choice.

Older now, you understand there is a spectrum; it’s not required to choose a gender.

You are one of several who have shared their stories of living their truth with me.

One did not have your resources, and had to make difficult choices about transcendence.

One chose to be fluid in full beard and make-up, a deep voice with a frilly dress.

Another received bad advice about hormone therapy, went off and slid backwards.

Left dangling in-between then and now, hoping haircut and makeup could cover it up.

A medical profession that is decades behind in proper treatment of a small population.

Insurance coverage unattainable, corporate profits depend on common conditions.

But you do not have a condition, are not afflicted with an illness or disease,

Somewhere in creation, your soul, identity, essence went into the wrong container.

Eggrolls in a pizza box, peanut butter in jelly jars, icing on meatballs, meatballs on cake,

Mismatches or maybe not, each one of us should be allowed to decide, make the choice,

What goes together and what keeps us separated from ourselves and each other.

The rules and regulations, expectations and creed do not exist in a single cannon.

No religion or society can dictate who you are or who you should be in this world.

Your journey has inspired me, taught me, given me insight not only to you but to myself,

You let me walk beside you, offered your truth willingly, allowed me to be your friend.

Because of you, I too am a poet, I too am an advocate, I too get to decide how to present.

Will my hair be auburn or grey, will my lips be red or plain, will I wear a skirt or pants?

And, thanks to you, I know I can be true to myself, even if that truth changes daily.

There are many ways to exist, would has replaced should in my vocabulary. There is only one rule--as golden as you: Be kind to everyone, every day.