Edie

Grief is not special. Loss is not unique. Every day, fruit goes bad and people die. It’s just like any other feeling; it comes and goes, sometimes more strongly or shockingly than others. But this story was birthed from it.

While writing this, I have been able to celebrate my family as the amazing support system they are while examining the loss we have felt collectively. For me to document it does not make it any more or less real, but it makes it available to those who need it too, those who have not found an outlet or those who are still in the thick of heartbreak. This story is about a Southern family faced with adapting to life with a transgender child, the death of a parent, and the connectedness we build during hardships.

This collection starts with pivotal stories from my young adult life as I actively transitioned from female to male. These pages are interrupted occasionally with quotes that summarizes what life is like as a trans person: a confusing, sometimes greatly misunderstood state of existing. These quotes are from moments that do not deserve large amounts of space and therefore have not been fleshed out into stories or poems.

As I age in these pages, the stories look outward to my family and the loss of my stepmother. The relationships are constantly changing, so some of these pieces feel incomplete and they may always feel that way. While this story ends at the beach in a moment of love, the real ending to this story has not happened yet. It is still unfolding and evolving.