One night, I retired to bed an unbalanced person. For weeks, a new personality had found itself emerging. Thoughts raced and conflicting streams of consciousness tried to ruin the narrative of the transformation of a once broken and lost human being. But, as is the case when one truly puts mind over matter in a last ditch effort to find one’s true self, the wait, the struggle, and the raging battles within are simply stepping stones to the other side of the roaring rapids of a glorious transition.
For years, a little girl’s voice within me was screaming. On the outside, to eyes untrained in the God honest truth, I was a confused young man. No one could comprehend the endless conflict between the two spirits at war in my prepubescent mind. The body, mind, and spirit, though, for one brief moment at the tender and formative age of eleven, saw a glimpse into the distant future and saw the face of a goddess. Little did this sweet, young effeminate child know she was not to fully reveal herself for over two decades. A corrupt, evil world had different plans for her.
But, one August day, very early in the morning, well before the sunrise, I awoke with purpose renewed. Never before had I felt my mind, body, and spirit finally working in harmony towards a timeless goal, to see the true face of the woman who I was meant to be. By that, I do not mean the face that others see when they behold my hormone ravaged little body. I mean the true face of the being of light that our mortal shells are but vessels to contain through this indeterminate campaign that we human beings know as what could be our only existence, what we call the days of our lives.
For weeks, I’d battled endlessly to force a transformation from a suicidal, heartbroken, pathetic facade of a former family man into the true Phoenix of Love that God had intended me to be from the split second He’d resolved to craft my soul beyond the stars. It seemed that I would for the rest of my days be the rambling fool my family and friends had come to know. But, in the wee hours of that mid-August Friday morning, the last vestiges of the lie I’d lived as a firstborn son who lived only to fulfill misguided and horribly limiting expectations had finally melted away.
For as these words are written, the shell containing this beautiful mind and infinite resolve may still look much nearly identical to the one who retired to her room the night before. But, whereas those closest to me may still see a “he,” that person, that wonderful soul who shared their dwelling for the better part of three decades, is very much in a reality a “she!”
English pronouns can be frustratingly limiting things. For too many years I had endlessly confused them. The nonbinary nature my genetic glitches had caused me to be born with was long seen as something quirky I would outgrow at some point. Yet, I loved embodying both genders as a child. I saw my nature as a God- given gift that no one should take away for me.
But, unfortunately, a horrible trial known as puberty resolved to force me into a box, a prison sentence worse than most cisexual people can hardly imagine. My mind and spirit were that of a woman about to blossom into a goddess. Yet, my body forced me to live over two decades as an awkward and flamboyantly gay man who tried zis best to play the role society attempted to force zim to play.
In the end, though, after an intense forty plus days in a self-guided journey of transitional therapy, one spirit would emerge victorious. Once thought of as a mere invention of a lonely only child, little Amelia, blessed by Grace at age four and set to trials of ice and fire at age eleven, would emerge victorious. After all, she was the one serving an undeserved sentence, one the corrupted physical world had tried so hard to shackle her with, and without mercy.
No longer a rambling fool, no more a bloody battlefield of raging hormones, clarity finally appeared before the lovely artist. It shone as a beacon of hope long awaited, bringing peace long overdue. For once, the true voice could finally speak, unimpeded by the abuse, brainwashing, and condescension my enemies had used to nearly lead me to end my life in a spectacular and tragic failure.
I have faced the demons. I have heard the angels sing. I was forced to choose my side. Here is my final answer: As much as the sin and evil plague this world, I resolve to do what I can to be the Lightbringer my Creator intended me to be.
Now, for the first time in thirty three years, three months, six days, minus about seven hours, the true Child of God finally spoke the True Name that her Heavenly Father had intended her to have in the first place.
I am Amelia Grace, the Phoenix Desertsong. You are all gorgeous. I love you all infinitely. But, now, it is time for she who has finally found the greatest love of her life to be free.
Bless you all, so long, and thanks for all the fish!
~ Amelia <3
P.S. Douglas Adams is awesome!