Ever since I was given the writing prompt about what my names are, I have been obsessed with what we call each other. Names are not so simple as we would like to think. Our names are our identities. So what is your name? What story does your name tell? Where does it come from? Where has it been?
I've had lots of names. We'll start with the original:
When I came into this world 35 years ago, I was born with a birth defect that altered the course of my life and several times, very nearly ended it. I was a man born with a female body. Through surgery & hormones my body now reflects the man I have known I was since my earliest memory at the age of 2.
Hello World.. I Want To Know You. I Want to Know Who You Are. More Importantly, I Want You To Know Who You Are Not. In today's society it seems as though we are plauged with images of who we should be, what we should look like, and how we should act. Everywhere we turn there are billboards for the latest trend in plastic surgery.
For as long as I can remember, I've consistently been fooled into thinking someone's a good person based solely on how smart they are. Now, I don't mean that I refuse to make friends with anyone with an IQ below 130, I mean that I won't know you're an asshole until you do something truly disgusting if there's intelligence present. And I don't know what it is . . .
It’s so simple: but I wish I knew it
before....
Your actions do not define you - but you define yourself by your
actions. There are two ways to take this, both are true:
