Many years back, I had a different personal website. It was there I maintained something of a diary, as well as fiction and poetry I’d written. This goes back to my earlier days of trying to deal with being trans. While perusing some older file folders I came across the saved contents of that old site. The following poem is one I feel to be still very relevent today. Particularly in light of more and more young people expressing their gender conflicts. If this can enlighten just one parent, save just one young transperson the heartache that years of denial brings, then it will be more than worth reposting. My very deepest wish in this regard, is that every child is allowed to grow into their truest, most honest self, without fear, without repression, without judgement. Rather with love, support and acceptance.

Somewhere In The World

Somewhere in the world a child is born.

……..And they exclaim, “It’s a boy!” …..And they exclaim, “It’s a girl!”

But with all their wisdom, they are ignorant

For they cannot see inside

And even the child does not yet know just which they truly are.

……..So they dress him in Blue …So they dress her in pink.

….And they give him toy trucks …. And they give her toy dolls

………And the child learns what he’s taught. ..And the child learns what she’s taught.

……………..Should he reach for the doll, he’s called “Sissy” … Should she reach for the truck, she’s called”Tomboy”

………And he’s taught that it’s wrong …. And she’s taught that it’s wrong.

………So, eager to please he conforms …. So, eager to please she conforms.

………..And he learns from his parents …. And she learns from her parents.

Because after all they know best

………..And he learns from his siblings …. And she learns from her siblings

……….And he learns from playing with others …. And she learns from playing with others.

……….And he learns when he’s in school …..And she learns when she’s in school.

What is acceptable, and how to avoid the taunts.

………And this child begins to build his armor …. And this child begins to build her armor.

………He learns how to blend in …. She learns how to blend in.

………He learns how to avoid being different …. She learns how to avoid being different.

Because when you’re different, you get hurt.

…….But he isn’t taught how to know himself …. But she isn’t taught how to know herself.

And as the years pass, the armor gets thicker, the shell becomes stronger.

Until soon it is more like a prison, from which there is no escape.

And trapped deep inside, growing day by day,

Is the true heart of that child.

And all the lessons, the learned behaviours, the camouflage and armor

……..Block his true nature from himself …. Block her true nature from herself.

………And so he struggles …. And so she struggles.

………To learn just who he really is …. To learn just who she really is.

………And how to set his spirit free …. And how to set her spirit free.

For that is the way things should be.

……..But the struggles bring him pain …. But the struggles bring her pain.

……….For his chains have been there for years …. For her chains have been there for years.

………And if he’s very lucky …. And if she’s very lucky.

…..One day she finds she’s free …. One day he finds he’s free.

…….And her true nature can grow and blossom …. And his true nature can grow and blossom,

…….As she was always meant to be …. As he was always meant to be.

………But far too often he fails …. But far too often she fails.

………Instead his soul withers and dies….Instead her soul withers and dies.

……….For his struggles are too great to bear … For her struggles are too great to bear.

Freedom has been too long denied.

……..So his shell becomes a coffin …. So her shell becomes a coffin.

…….To bury his inner self…. To bury her inner self.

…….And though he might be living…. And though she might be living.

It’s the very worst kind of hell.


I don’t have all the answers. But there are some things I do believe. Perhaps instead of being so focused on labels, perhaps our children would be best served, if we taught them to be the best possible PEOPLE they can be, to look inside themselves without fear or guilt, and to nurture whoever they are. Maybe, just maybe, then there will be a bit less misery in this world. And after all, isn’t it every parent’s wish that their children grow to be happy?