22. What We Become

On this block, even in this day and age, most women become mothers, sometimes by choice but usually by circumstance. Some become wives—many more, I believe, than would ever’ve chosen such a fate. I always wonder whether I’d still come to such a conclusion had I been born female rather than to a female born. Would I’ve had a child—like the one I once was? Would I’ve wished him—given him—that long garden of childhood everyone wished he’d had or somehow remembers having had? For that matter, what would I make of a boy—or a girl? That is to say, what if I’d had a child who didn’t fall between his or her own nature and what teachers, priests, government authorities and others expect?

Long before I knew I could undergo the transformation I’ll soon culminate, I swore I’d never have children. It’s one of two resolutions—getting away from this block was the other—that I’ve ever stuck to. I knew, even then, I couldn’t bring anyone into this world to the same kinds of conflicts I had, or anything like them. Not that I regret them now: the struggle, the frustrations have turned me into a person who’s embarked on the most exciting, excruciating and ennerving experience one can have, I think, short of giving birth to another human being. Since I’ll never be able to do that (barring a sudden advance in medical technology) even after I’ve completed my transformation, I’ll never know for sure. But, as I said, I still have no wish to bring the needs of another mouth, another pair of eyes, another skin in to being.

I still can only wonder how many mothers…including mother…actually chose the role born to their children…and the role to which they’re always identified.

If you don’t give birth to or raise children, then the world –most men, anyway—will fix one of three labels to you: bitch, whore, dyke. A woman can be a bitch and and dyke, but one who isn’t a whore is a bitch. But somehow, the reverse doesn’t seem to hold true. And perceived lesbianism seems to preclude other two and men profess more hatred—because they feel more fascination—than for all of the other experiences put togther..

I’m curious as to where I’ll fit. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter, in a way, because I’m not going to have any more to do with the male species than I have to. Hopefully, I’ll never have to turn tricks again, but I know better than to say “never again.” What I hope, at least now, is that I’ll never have to be of use to anybody again, for any reason or in any way.