by Laric, 10/22/02
I've been born male to a body which is not. My opinions on this
have been heard in the past, so to repeat overmuch here would be
tiresome. Suffice it to say, I find very little in the way of protest
to it save when I encounter gender prejudice, and this is a fact
of life which would hound me on either side I should have had the
genetic roll of the dice to be on. I do not wail when I must sit
down to piss. I just put the seat down.
The crop of hair upon my head, I feel, is blond. It gives to me
a trauma factor of precisely zero when I look into the mirror which
hangs above my sink and see a body I may not identify perfectly
with coated with that of dark instead. If I am of such weak fiber
to my being that a cosmetic color may destroy my will, then I deserve
to be overpowered by brunette.
When I brush my hair behind my ears, I am always surprised when
they are so short rather than bearing points upon their tips. The
dice rolled one way--I was born into this universe and this time,
and I was born into a human body. Dreams lure me with promises of
a landscape far more verdant than the one around me, clothing that
is different, a heritage which is not human but elf. Yet to look
into that mirror--the details are not all correct here, now are
I have a confession to make.
I like being human.
This world is as delicious as anything else in my memory, recovered
or dreamed or otherwise, that I can remember tasting. Five minutes
down the road is a cafe which serves me dark roast coffee whenever
I desire, provided it is within standard business hours. Five minutes
in the other direction is a restaurant that specializes in soups.
On cold days, I can buy a cup and walk with it cradled in my hands
while the steam bathes my face. They change their selection every
week. Each season, they have last year's favorites.
I view this world as a challenge, you see. The business is not
to bemoan the ill fit of my clothing where it hangs over curves
I do not feel I should have, but to best utilize what is on hand
to achieve what I desire. I have an appearance which means that
people may have preconceptions a certain way, and yet it is -my-
choice if I wish to spend my life dwelling upon what is in my box
of tools and what is not.
To define one's life solely by the lack of what they feel they
must have should they be born somewhere -proper- is to define with
one's arms continually outstretched for that promised grail. When
it does not come, then the fault is gracefully handed over to this
Earth world for being too limiting, too misunderstanding
of that which is not within society's common.
At what point does one who has lost their home decide to finally
make a new one? I build my house from timbers on this world and
it is a satisfying endeavor in every sense.
Human body, human hands, human capacity for spirituality. You cannot
make something from nothing. Despite what I have heard some otherkin
saying, I fully believe that human beings hold just as much innate
capacity for the magics of existence as any other being out there.
If I am to have a human nature in my workings rather than an elven,
so be it--but it is not any more limited than it would have
been were I to have been born in a body with wings or with horns.
I am learning something while I am here, and that is to be human.
And I enjoy it.
Feel free to prove me wrong by tearing down the heavens to display
how inherent power is in a non-human and then feel free to scream
in pain at the imbalances in nature afterwards, for all that inherent
non-human sensitivity must be damningly problematic when the volume
To be given special benefits to begin with simply by birth in this
body but possible spiritual origin elsewhere? I refuse that. Why
would I want to be given a head start on this world, when there
is so much more satisfaction playing by the same rules as anyone
else and still winning? Is my capacity to grow and achieve so
strictly limited by my hair color, my height, or my species profile?
Am I to be defined as anything, anything other than what
I can actually accomplish while I am standing here and demonstrating
it to those around me?
Ironic that in my experiences with people here, it has not been
one's origins that matter nearly so much as if one is capable of
walking down the street with them and making polite chatter.
I love this world. I would drink it in with all my soul and still
want for more. No dream of what could be will get in my way of enjoyment
of this one; no tale of magic and bloodline will keep me from knowing
that there is still wonder to be found right here. It pleases me
to be in a human body, and equipped with only the materials that
come to human capacity.
Weep for me later, my other-kin, for what you perceive as the willing
loss of my heritage. Define me in a box which condescends me into
being unaware of what I lose to begin with. I am finding it to be
of perfect clime here. Someday when all are through flapping the
toilet lids up and down, we may all get on the business of actually
living here in this world together.
In the meantime, I've not a fork in my hand to eat this dish, but
a spoon. I do not plan to let the details get in my way.