Hello. My name is Thulani. (2nd part)

Hello. My name is Thulani.
(2nd Part)

(...). Mothers know everything, they have super powers and I was refusing to be a superhero to be able to give birth.

When the plane landed I felt freedom, I didn't belong to that prison anymore. They say “the truth shall set you free”, so for the first time I screamed “My name is Amaka… I am a woman who wants to be a man!” I didn't know anyone here and nobody could judge me. I was finally free to open up to anyone about my gender issues. My whole life I have been struggling with my gender. Does gender really matter? Can you tell by the way I write which gender I am? You can’t can you?! But you can tell I am broken inside.

Leaving the airport I asked the taxi driver to help me with my baggage but he didn't show any interest in helping and his behaviour was so rude that it looked like he knew that I wasn't a normal girl so I didn't deserve “special treatment”. But it was just him being a regular Yodesan. 

On the way to the apartment the company arranged for me, I was assailed by the breeze. Cold weather gives my curvy and useless body goosebumps. The apartment was really petite, but it was ok for me because soon I wouldn't have to pretend I liked space and decorating.

I decided to knock on my neighbor’s doors to introduce myself, funny thing is, I will have to introduce myself again later on with a new identity. She answered the door wearing her pyjamas, where I was from that would never happen. People always carried themselves the best way. I greeted her “Good morning love” and she looked astounded because of the word “love”. In Luarcia we use the word “love” all the time. We are very polite and caring people. She answered “What’s up?” and I smiled. I told her a little bit about myself and she didn't seem interested at all so I finished the conversation and wished her a blessed day. Once again she was surprised, I think she never heard of the word “blessed” or anything related to religion. 

I was unpacking my stuff and making the house look a bit like me because at home my mom chose the color pink for my bedroom. Growing up I didn't like colors because for me it meant I had to choose, I always felt pressured and it was too early for me to make a decision…Pink for girls and blue for boys, that’s a universal truth. I looked at some of my pictures and I decided to throw them away. I didn't take a lot of stuff because in a few months I would wear completely different clothes and shoes. I searched online for the shoe size they use here since some countries start from 30, others start from size 2. I wanted to be ready, I didn't want to feel like a foreigner. In two weeks I learned that they “buy air time” instead of “buy credit or top up” and I found it more appropriated since I really needed air. 

On my first day of work I met the whole team and from the beginning, I could sense the competitiveness in the air like my mom warned me. I didn't worry much, because I wasn’t focused in a career I just wanted to work for as much time as I could, so I could save money. I had to wear heels every day to look like my co-workers until I had the courage to be myself. I often saw them engaging with their bosses in a sexual way and I would pretend I didn't see. I remember my mother telling me about their manipulative ways to conquer. I couldn’t relate to them, people with high heels and low standards.

They would touch each other in very sensual ways at the work place and I was horrified. I wondered when would I feel comfortable with my body and let someone touch me. But my gender issues were enough for me to worry about my sexual orientation.

I couldn't concentrate on work because I had a lot on my mind. The thing about the LGBT community is that they think they are experts and act so knowledgeable but they are lost and afraid. They think they are so courageous but the real courage is to say “I don't know”. I have no idea what I am going through or if it is a serious disease, mental illness or just a crazy flu. I only know that I am not ok and I need help. Dear God help me…

I am not open minded and I understand that we are all in transition to fully accept this major issue. I am not an advocate for the transgender community and I don't intend to be. I will not start video blogging and documentaries about my experience and go on TV shows to talk about “my courageous journey” because there is nothing courageous about running from your family and your home country where people dress up to greet others; where people are always keen to help others and use the kindest words to communicate. I don't want fame or a Nobel Prize I just want to feel welcome in my new body and in this pretentious city.

 I didn’t know how to start, what was the first step to becoming a man or to start this transition? First, I decided to cut my hair. If my friends from school saw me they would never recognize me because I was so perfect in their minds. Do you know that they never said a bad word or called me a bad name? Never! Not once. The thing about pretending to be somebody else is that you are cautious about everything so people adore you, because you don't have flaws.

One thing about Yodesa is that they are not scared to be themselves, they literally don't care. In my country, they would create movements to stop me from doing these things. All my friends would stop talking to me and no matter how caring and nice people they are, they would evict me from society. And nobody would protect me because they would be afraid of how others would react. You know those people who pretend they don't know you after someone spreads rumors about you?  They are exactly like that. Was I starting to feel more Yodesan?

Obs: Please let me know if you are looking forward to the next part :)
If you enjoy reading it please leave your comment or send me your feedback to [email protected]

Lunga Izata

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