Check out my poem “Hi, I’m Transgender.”
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Thursday. My friends and I awake earlyish. There is an extremely inconvenient bus strike on, which means that we have to get a taxi into town. We order one after eating some leftover nachos (Because we’re classy). After doing four hours of French lectures, I get the train out to the hospital. I read my Granny excerpts from my book, which is devoted to her. She seems touched at the chapter that I have written about her. I am so grateful to be able to show it to her after she almost died just three weeks before. I leave a proof copy in her room with her. That night, I stay over in my Gran’s house alone. This doesn’t really bother me, although it does feel a little weird being there without her.
Body image is something that I’ve personally struggled with in the past. It’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, by any means. But after hearing the story of Aoife Kearns’ struggles with accepting her body type, I felt compelled to discuss it. Aoife and I once had a very honest and open discussion. A discussion which later prompted me to write about my eating disorder. Aoife has a lot to say about body image. And I was eager to listen.