Is the reflection I see in the mirror who I am, or just the taxi that carries "me" around? As a TG journalist for a host of magazines I have explored this and many other ideas along the detour that has become my life. Being transgender is by far the most confused, conflicted, distracting and yet amazing journey I have ever encountered thus far.
The words of others don't define me. How could they? In many instances those "others" don't even know me. They see me and then an idea of who they ‘think I am’ rushes to their lips, before their brain can even process it.
