In the Mediterranean world, if we were all brave enough and decide to come out the closet; we will have the remains left of a population near to extinction.
Stranger: What about it.
Me: It is not a choice. You are born as is, baruch Hashem.
[Genesis 2:22 KJV “And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.”]
Do call me; “He,” again for which we, women, were all he to begin with. See, it’s just that I was born different. Bestowed with unimaginable hardships to begin with, overcome, and become and as also maybe to serve as a side living example, perhaps as a side little rememberance of that very sacred creation for all of you creeping little creatures to witness and see with your own mere physicality and mortality how I was, am, and will always be very much real. And now yes. Do call me; “She,” again for which we, women, were all he to begin with.
When your voice tone starts to level and match your brain cells; instant therapy.
The obsolete version of the wimp.
I am a transitioned female born with brown eyes, curly black hair, and olive skin. Here lies my personal definition of perfection; an unconditional love for the self.
In this world you don’t need to be born queer, a woman, nor a man to go out there and get yourself killed when only the action of breathing air alone feels like a crime.