A Definition of Binding

To me, binding hunching my shoulders so my baggy shirts flop forward and give me a flat-looking chest. Binding is hiding in a public bathroom with a sports bra and a roll of tape. Binding is the way that I feel that my chest can never be too compressed, and the longing I feel when I see other guys in their binders because I have no way to order one myself. It's the way it never hurts to push my chest down because it feels so much better than having breasts. It's the new wardrobe I've adopted that eliminates anything clingy because I look flatter in loose shirts. It's the set of my jaw and the swing of my arms and the pace of my gait when I'm away from those who know me and can be a guy. It's the way I follow guys in the school hallways and practice mimicking their stride. It may just be, by definition, a flattening of the chest, but to me binding represents in every way being able to really be a man.



Konrad

Condensation

!ffy

An epiphany at 3am

Me? I've always known who I am
So this has thrown me for a loop
So, I researched to understand
The technicalities and truths
Figured out I was meant to be a man
Not that it's any concern to you
Born a woman without a plan
But I'll figure things out all the way through

An epiphany at 3 AM
I felt it to my core
I wake up every morning
Feeling and wanting it more and more
With a binder and baggy clothes
A new mind set and hair that's short
I'm passable for a man
And that, to me, is what's important

Dresses were never meant for me
I've always hated pink
I've never been the way I should
Never thought how a girl should think
I've never walked or talked that way
Never tried to work out kinks
I've never wanted to be a mom
There's always been that missing link

Being trans is a biological thing
But don't pity me, I'm okay
I just want to fix the uncomfortable things
The biological mistakes
I want to have a chest that's flat
And well.. there's a little missing weight
Luckily hormones can fix these wrongs
T can fix the missing traits

I want my out to match my in
I want to look the way I feel
I want everyone to know to think
And see that this is real
Please don't call me Kayla again
Konnor is the name that's ideal
I know you're probably confused right now
But I'm not different, no matter how I appear

Don't treat me any differently
I'm not different than what you've seen
I'll be no differently as ME
I'm still blunt and pretty mean
I've known this for a while now
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come clean
But this is who I really am.
My name is Konnor Reid Dobie.


Konnor

This Voice

Will I ever get used to this voice?
This voice that can now sing bass instead of soprano.
This voice that sounds perpetually hoarse to me.
This voice that should come from my chest,
though I can’t quite seem to move it there.
This voice that can sing the tenor part
but finds it incredibly boring most of the time.
(Let’s face it; basses & sopranos get all the glory anyway.)
This voice that uses different pronouns.
This voice that answers to a different name.
This voice that tells a different point of view
than most people have heard before.
This voice that matches my new beard.
This voice that yearns to tell his own story.
This voice that speaks my words.
This voice that is my own.


Aran

The First Week

It's a fog that surrounds me,
Uncertainty,
Confusion and fear
And it only fades
When I say it.

I am Transgendered.

I WANT to tell the world
But terrified doesn't even begin to cover the feeling.
Coming out again isn't the most appealing option.
But I feel like if I don't talk about it
It isn't real.
And I've done all this work for nothing.
This searching, discovering, and labeling all over again.
Like I haven't finally figured out who I am.

Konnor. Not Kayla. Not Kay.
Not a female.
But Male.
Born in the wrong body -
A beautiful body -
But wrong, none the less.

Not the one I belong in.


Konnor