Dear Kitty,

I watch a lot of right wing politicians on YouTube to prepare me for combat. I know fighting shouldn’t be the answer, but Tia Rosa once told me that I couldn’t be a punk. She wouldn’t allow it. She says that if anyone ever tries to pick on me or tries to fight me–I dare not back down. If not, she’d punch me right in my cowardly face. 

I don’t know why I keep doing it to myself– keep listening to all the dehumanizing transgender discourse that political commentators like Ben Shapiro, Candace Owens, and Michael Knowles preach like they’re giving a sermon. It chips away at my confidence and self-love every time. But I somehow feel that I must be prepared to debunk their trans-related myths, you know, so people don’t get their wires crossed about who I am.

I think I secretly want to be liked by them, all those conservatives and right-wingers, to fit in their clique. To be “normal” and not an anomaly. To be a part of the theocracy they’re trying to build.

“They like to talk about bones and chromosomes, but bones and chromosomes only tell a fraction of the story. A fraction of the truth.”

I know some of the things they say are sound and true. But you say one thing that rings true to the ear and you gain a slew of devotees. They all seem to get one thing right: and that’s that all transgender women are biologically male. It’s true–even though I hate to admit it. I don’t think any real transgender woman tries to refute that. But they seem to leave out (strategically I will add) and dismiss the fact that transgender women are women on a social and cultural level. They like to talk about bones and chromosomes, but bones and chromosomes only tell a fraction of the story. A fraction of the truth. My bones, no matter how denser they are to a cisgender woman, will never tell the story of my mind and heart. 

Well, Kitty, that’s where things are with that. I tell myself to stop watching all that hateful nonsense. But it’s easier to hate myself than to love myself. I’ve known how to hate far longer than I’ve known how to love. It’s second nature, if you will.

I know I lied. I said I wouldn’t write you letters anymore, but there’s something about letters that make it easier to divulge the truth. Letters are meant to be seen by one set of eyes, so I’m assuming you’re the only one that will read this letter. And that obliterates any embarrassment I may hold or any fear of being brutally honest.

Yours Truly

Athena Vasquez