Your Eyes, They Tell A Story

I decided to visit my teachers in school some days back. Calling a few friends along, we all made our way down to campus, dizzy with anticipation of both catching up with the teachers who made a difference in our lives and the peers who will be vividly remembered.

My transgender friend, D joined in. She too, excited to revisit old times and reminisce about days gone by. As usual, our glam princess kept us waiting for her distinguished arrival. But, yes, she wasn't the only culprit. There were many others that kept different time zones.

Reset your watches people…

Still, I must admit, that it was pretty good reliving old times. We hugged every teacher we met. We talked, and joked. We conversed about an array of subjects, from blogs to bitches.

From past to present.

Some teachers were more receptive to D's change. Tactfully, they asked what she preferred to be called, and how her life was in general. Sadly, reality also brings people who are steadfast in their principles and choose not to accept certain happenings.

One teacher said that D's change was 'rubbish' and insisted on calling her by her former name. I swear I could see the tears start to well up in D's large, expressive eyes.

Am I angry at my teacher?

Well, yes, to a certain extent. I was angry at her lack of sensitivity in handling the situation. But then again, everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Just as D has the right to her transformation, that teacher has the right to not accept it.

Your way is never the only way.

We can never expect everyone to live the way we want them to. They have to recognize their choices come with consequences. And not all consequences end up with fairytale endings.

I spent a little 'alone time' with D after the reunion, and encouraged her to share her feelings over the matter. Visibly upset, she poured out her grievances, stating that this type of shit perpetuates her life in almost every aspect.

I get this all the time Cheryl. Why must it always be me?

Truthfully, she creates a mini storm wherever she goes, attracting stares and gasps from curious onlookers. And seriously, it's hard to ignore her. She possesses a lanky body, always dressed to the nines in her colorful dresses and immaculate makeup.

The females eye her, trying to register how she pulls her look together, and the men, I don't know what the hell they want.

From my perspective, the people on their own, are quite content on just doing a double take. It's the people in groups that brew this innate need to ridicule and shout sarcastic comments with their falsified sense of 'courage'.

'look at the bapok'

I say – FUCK YOU.

Why don't you go take a good look at yourself?!

You want a piece of me?!
I'll give you something to look at!

It hurts my friend. And my friend has feelings. I simply can't help feeling defensive.

Then again, I also went through this phase too, didn't I?
If you can't accept it, walk away.

There is no justification for such atrocious behavior.

D went through a lot to get to where she is now. She handles discrimination every single day of her life – it's an indescribable torture. She's not allowed to change to her female clothes near her workplace. She has to undergo mandatory blood tests on a regular basis, as though she is some kind of perverse whore.

She endures and takes all the crap in stride. She dried her tears a long time ago. Like every one else, she's just trying to live her life the best way she knows how.

She supports her parents.
She supports herself.

She works as hard as she can.
She's there for her friends.

And how proud I am for her.

Are you even half as good as her?

I believe civilized people in today's society, don't go around pointing and bitching about physically or intellectually disabled people anymore right? We should extend this to every other person. I certainly hope we've grown from dark times. Or at the very least, be a little more discreet.

I can only hope they can learn as I have.

When you say that looks don’t matter : Prove it.