Recently, I’ve been really into watching videos of poetry slams on YouTube. I watch poets like Blythe Baird perform their poems with such fierce and undeniable passion. I adore watching them release their inhibitions, expressing themselves in the most beautiful way possible. My favourite poems are the ones about injustices and things that are wrong with society or with the world.

Late one night, after watching many of these videos, I composed my own poem. It’s pretty heavy and bleak. I do not necessarily believe everything that I’ve expressed in this poem, however, I see no flaws with the points that I decided to include. I originally intended it to be performed, but I wish to share it here. Please keep in mind that I am not a poet and I am not trying to be one. This was a one-time thing (I think) and I don’t believe that it is perfect.

Hi. I’m Transgender.

I’m the one that you girls love to tell that it’s okay to be who I am.

I’m the one who you assure that I’ll be such a convincing woman.

I’m the acceptable one.

I’m the popular one.

I’m the one who you love to call pretty.

I’m the one who you can bring out around your guy friends because I will make them laugh

And whatever I do, I won’t make them feel uncomfortable.

I’m the funny one whose jokes you laugh at.

But tell me, without that laughter would there be anything genuine about our relationship?


Hi. I’m Transgender.

I’m the fetish that you boys love to explore.

I’m the porn that you occasionally look at with shame, excitement and a private browsing window.

I’m the desperate freak who you send a spontaneous dick pic to because I must long to see a picture of your wonderful dick,

Just don’t tell your girlfriend.

I’m the one who doesn’t deserve to be loved,

But oh wow wouldn’t you love to fuck me from behind.

I’m the one who you ask what happens when I have sex?

I’m the one who you ask what genitals I have right now?

I’m the one who you ask why would I possibly want to get rid of my glorious penis?

I’m the one who you occasionally make a point of telling that you accept.

Tell me, am I supposed to be grateful for that?


Hi. I’m Transgender.

I’m the one that you teenagers love to go on nights out with before you leave me alone so you can go look for sex.

I’m the one who you cry to when he rejects you for the girl that’s not as pretty as you,

Or is she?

I’m the one who you cry to, never realising that none of the eyes in this club are interested in me.

I’m the fun-loving one.

I’m the one who you love to tell your friends about.

I’m the reason to be proud because you have a friend who’s from a minority group.

But god forbid that I don’t look like a convincing woman

Or that I start freaking your friends out.


Hi, I’m Transgender.

I’m the one who you adults love to commend for my bravery.

I’m the one who you’re amazed has any shred of self-confidence.

I’m the one who you tell that my parents must be great people because I can’t possibly have learnt to be so strong and so courageous without their influence.

I’m the one who surprises you with the fact that I actually love myself.

I’m the one who you tell to keep being strong because deep down you’re sure that I’m gonna have a hard life.

I’m the one who your children tell you about, but who you’re unsure of until you meet me

And you see that I’m funny and bright and I’m not at all weird.

I’m the one who you avoid asking certain questions.

Because you musn’t set the poor fragile trans boy off.

He might start making you feel uncomfortable.


Hi, I’m Transgender.

I’m the one who you people full of hate love to murder.

I’m the one who you accost and rape and beat because I’m a freak.

I’m the one who you called a he-she before kicking me hard on the shin,

While I was on the way home from visiting my grandmother.

I’m the one who deserves to be brought down

Because I dare to walk around with my head held high.

I’m the one who could not have a family or anyone who loves me

Because that would make me human.

I’m the one who kills myself because of your harassment.

Taking a bottle of pills because I can no longer take your hate.

Hi, I’m Transgender.

I’m the one who has been in the media an awful lot recently

Because it’s suddenly acceptable for me to be me.

I’m the one who you assume has no friends when you see me walking along the street alone.

I’m the one who you shouted at,

Telling me that my ass needs pussy training when I was only 16-years-old.

I’m the one who must be emotionally scarred

Because you hear that all trans people had a horrible childhood.

I’m the one whose every achievement is overshadowed by the fact that I was born in the wrong body.

I’m the one who stands in front of you while you and your friend nudge one another and laugh because you just saw a “tranny.”

I’m the one who you look up and down on the bus

Before turning to your companion and asking is that a boy or a girl?

I’m that.


Hi, I’m Transgender.

I’m the one who has to have a high pitched voice.

Who must wear make-up to cover up any features that you consider masculine.

I’m the one whose voice is ignored.

Whose every appealing trait is a surprise.

Who isn’t anything like you’d expect a trans person to be.

I’m the lucky one.

Because if I don’t hate myself or kill myself.

I must have had an easy life.


Hi, I’m Transgender.

Isn’t this the part where you tell me your opinion on that?

Watch the video version of this poem below:

Read an article I wrote about the struggles of transgender citizens in Ireland here.


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