**I wrote this without a lot of awareness of terms and uses of pronouns. This is new to me. Please forgive them before I get to a full edit.**
Today, I met and spoke as an equal with a transgendered individual who identified as “queer,” so in this post I will use “she” to identify “her” due to it being the gender “she” identifies most with and seeks to be. It was humbling, frightening, sickening, and saddening. The pain she has been through in her search for complete alteration (operation) shot a dagger of pain into my heart. I had to vent it out after our discussion lest I carry my sorrow over her pain all day.
She had been raped, faced with the rapist on the bus on her way home because she was afraid to prosecute him. She’s been called horrible things. Treated horribly. Shown almost no support due to their being so few people who identify as transgendered in our city. And yet still, had the strength to be alive today. As she unleashed her pain and suicidal thoughts and intentions (could not keep living pre-op, hated herself), I tried my hardest to understand, try to understand, and show support and complete non-judgement.
She was a wonderful person. I talked to her for the first time about by own monogamous polyamory (perhaps I will share at a later time, here, on that), and she understood and listened. We talked, and my heart lightened.
I hope to see her again, I hope she carries the strength to keep going. I hope humanity can rise above judging their fellow man for such things. I have hope that we can.
I can type no more on this, so please: your thoughts, feelings, reactions, advise, and stories for a penny or more.