Transition is something we all love to glorify but it is by no means an easy thing. At times its unwarranted, unwanted, and unannounced. It is the surprise you’ve known about for ages yet failed to accept because [see previous sentence]. Transition is the gift of surrender disguised as discipline and acceptance. Change cloaked in the clothes of a threat and problem, an obstacle you have daunted.
Transition is steady accepting that you are not ready but jumping head first anyway because why wait?
Manhood is as transitory as any other process one minute your praised for doing small kind gestures; then to be expected to not only do those but strive amongst all, have the perfect complexion, a wardrobe out of your current budget, and the know withal to be a gentle firm kind assertive beast who is respected and feared in the same room.
At least the social stigma of that say’s that is the way to approval unless you don’t give a fuck about that at which point your manhood is yours to define; to accept even in the midst of apprehension from those you cherish most. Sexuality, appearance, career, and even catering to the needs of others all wrapped up in a I too need help and don’t know what is completely going on. Yet day by day I conquer it, live it, and embody it.
For me my manhood, I can say I’m ambitiously piecing together and as it stands I wasn’t ready but I couldn’t wait for my courage to catch me before life did. So my manhood is something I embrace.
Maybe the best part is the resilience in adverse moments.
The joy from hardwork paying off.
Or simply being the man I’ve always seen myself as since I was a child.
I just know that there is more…