I'm Alexia, a trans woman of 25 from Buenos Aires, now living in Germany. For a while now I have been consciously, and not so much so, sublimating the trans experience in all I do. To learn about the trans experience is always enriching for me, and for any breathing human, I think. Facing that much social hardship to heal internally is heroic. And this comes from a woman with many things going on for her, socially and economically. That is why the trans experience is not one, but many. Adding the trans factor to bearing an already divided and fundamentally unjust global system is exhausting to even think about. But here we are, and we are a many people, and we fight not only for us but for human decency.
I saw you in my reflection, once again. I could see the black hair coming out of your pores like seaweed on an ocean bed. I was repulsed and scared. You smelled of sweat and nerves. You had a lost gaze, as I inspected your body, full of care. Your pecs for tits. Your belly for a cinched waist. You moved as I moved. And your voice sounded awfully similar to mine. Your mane was of the same color, and of a similar texture; when I touched it, I cringed at the noise of dry hair stems broken, like dead twigs shattered by confused fingers. Who are YOU in my reflection? Do you think and feel like me? Do you have those same dreams, and that same hunger? Do you hurt in those same places? With that same intensity? I don't believe in your existence.