I just spent the better part of the day helping out a fellow member of the trans community. They are writing their biography and it is one that will garner a lot of interest. She is a fascinating person and did a lot of great things that make my accomplishments look small. But she did not make me feel small.

We are a community that has a lot of wounded people. I don't know if it is because we are transgender or that is what causes us to be transgender. It's the chicken and the egg argument. But despite each others wounds we have a choice. We can be a bandage or we can be an infection, we can heal or we can harm. The power is in our own hands.

It is not my place to say who I am working with, I probably won't even get credit for helping, but that is okay. It is time for me to put aside my pride and ego and serve the better good. It might also be time to share my wounds.

I think that it is.

I have a major issue in life. That is the need to be accepted. It is a major element in most of my stories and that is because I am still trying to find it myself. See, all my life I have been rejected. I have been told that I wasn't worthy. My mother gave me up when I was 6 months old. She didn't want me. But she didn't want anyone else to want me either. My aunt wanted to care for me, but my mom put a stop to that. Can you believe that? She didn't love me, but she didn't want anyone else to love me either. That hurts and it sticks with me. Then I bounce around. Uncle Sal's, my mom, my aunt Roe's, looking for a place to belong and when I finally land on my feet, I get ripped away by lies and false promises. I was raised to believe that I was an object to be used. I could be used for one person's self gratification or as a weapon against another. I spent two years being beaten with a belt to try to be normal. Then the cops came. Back to aunt roe, but things were different. we didn't become a family again, just two people living in an apartment together. Then she tries to kill herself, further proof that I'm not worthy. Back with my mother and the beast, real uncomfortable. So That is where I get this notion of not being accepted and looking for it. But even when I find it, I question it. It is not a good place to be. If people are nice I question their motive. I seek more to be left alone than to be connected. I keep people at bay when they get too close. I am fragile but if you say that I am I will curse you out and prove how strong I am. I am a paradox. Aren't we all.