Cruelty

Now that I’ve made my ebook “Who Cares? Life for an Irish Transgender Teen” free to the public (you can download the full thing here), I’ve decided to publish the chapters here on my website. Below is a chapter from this book which was published in April 2016.

One of the hardest things for me to accept is that there are bad people in this world. It disgusts me, terrifies me and shocks me to know that I, or the people that I love could come into contact with any one of these people at any time. A part of me is intrigued. How do these people become this way? Are they in any way redeemable? Can we solve these people’s problems? Were they born like this? I ask myself these questions every time I hear that someone’s been murdered. Or when I see online videos of people abusing animals. Or when I watch in horror as unspeakable acts of terrorism occur. Hearing these kind of things weighs on my soul. I wish I didn’t get so affected but at the same time, I don’t. I’m glad I feel so strongly about these things because that’s reality and although it’s important to lose touch with reality at times, it’s also important to pay close attention when reality becomes as horrific as this. The most recent example I can think of is the Paris attacks on the 13th of November 2015. I was alone in my apartment when I heard. I began to read article after article on what was happening. I couldn’t believe how horrific it was. I got extremely upset that night and went to make myself a hot chocolate. But nothing could remove the attacks from my soul. I sat in my dark room trying to fall asleep but unfortunately I couldn’t for a long time. I finally had a very disturbed sleep full of nightmares and worries for a few hours.

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The Bathroom

Now that I’ve made my ebook “Who Cares? Life for an Irish Transgender Teen” free to the public (you can download the full thing here), I’ve decided to publish the chapters here on my website. Below is a chapter from this book which was published in April 2016.

Something that I don’t admit very often is that bathrooms are an issue for me. It seems obvious but I still don’t talk about it that much. I don’t feel anxious very often but the bathroom is one rare moment when I do. Walking through the door I have no idea who’s going to be on the other side. Will they just keep going about their business? Will they stare at me? Will they laugh? Will they say something rude? I’ve had all of these things happen to me. Most of the time I can laugh about it. I laugh when an old man tells me that “this is the boy’s bathroom.” I laugh when I’m standing at the sink and a man comes in only to see me, apologise and walk out. I laugh when someone looks me up and down or when they ask whether I’m a boy or a girl. I especially laugh when someone sees me while they are standing at a urinal and immediately shields their penis as if I get my kicks entering the bathroom purely to catch a glimpse of their penis urinating. I laugh because it’s useless to get annoyed or upset about it. Most of the time, I tell my friends about it later and we all laugh together. I have to say, the embarrassing experiences have reduced since I moved to the city because people there are more used to diversity.

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The Country

Now that I’ve made my ebook “Who Cares? Life for an Irish Transgender Teen” free to the public (you can download the full thing here), I’ve decided to publish the chapters here on my website. Below is a chapter from this book which was published in April 2016.

I feel like this chapter might offend many people and that really isn’t my intention. When I speak about the countryside please keep in mind that I saw a very ugly side to the place that I lived during my time there. I’m not trying to make a generalisation about country people or country towns. I encountered many people that I adored and continue to adore during my time in Wexford. I still enjoy my visits home but in this chapter I am going to be honest about my past experiences. I can’t change the fact that I didn’t fit in in the countryside. I can’t change the fact that I had some bad experiences and have been left a little traumatised from living there. I can only be honest about all of it and say that none of it matters to me anymore. We move on from things like that but that doesn’t make any of it right.

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Incidents of Disrespect.

The sad thing is, I could probably name a ton of incidents that have happened to me over the years where I felt blatantly disrespected. I don’t generally like to focus on things like this but I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting recently and when I do this, I can’t help but encounter incidents where I was blatantly disrespected. So I’m going to share some of them.

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A Day Spent Living.

Let me tell you about a day that I had over the weekend. I woke up after sleeping for sixteen hours (have I mentioned how fun it is to have fatigue) feeling quite surprisingly refreshed. I was due to meet my friend Bridgin (I’m mentioning her by name because she complained that I never have before) for a catch up day.

One of my favourite things to do is to catch up with my friends over a meal, a coffee, a drink or a day of shopping. It’s even better if myself and my busy friends actually find time to do a combination of any of the above activities.

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