Grayson Valenti

Grayson Valenti Poems

The Best Poem Of Grayson Valenti

He

When I was a child
the only thing that was important to me
was how much my dress twirled
when I spun

And my hair had to be just so
else my mother would never hear
the end of my whining
while we sat in church

When I was a child
it didn’t matter to me that I
was wearing a dress
or that there was a ribbon in my hair

All that mattered
was that my shoes clicked
whenever I took a step
because I liked the way it sounded

When I was a child
and I began to grow
I realized that I didn’t enjoy
wearing those dresses anymore

And that whenever my shoes clicked
I wanted to take them off
because I wanted to wear shoes
like the boys did

With leather and hard soles
not thin straps or thigh-highs
or points that make your toes
stick together

And they told me
that I was a tomboy
because normal little girls
don’t play with trucks and tools

Because they couldn’t stand
the thought of me wearing plaid
instead of frills and heels
or shorts that let the pockets show

And they needed a word
for “our little girl
likes to play in the dirt
and not with her Barbie’s”

But by the time I reached
the ripe old age
of twelve and a half
I knew that something was off about me

Because I began to look at myself in the mirror
and I would cringe with disgust at what I saw
not because I was ugly
but because I couldn’t believe I’d been cursed

And I’d ask myself:
does God hate me?
because he gave me breasts instead of pecs
and womanly features instead of sharp edges

And why did He give me thin fingers
and a feminine waist
if He knew I’d only hate it
with every fiber of my being?

When uttered from the mouths of those
who would truly rather die than
stay in the cruel devil’s trap of their bodies,
“Transgender” is considered a dirty word

And it doesn’t make sense that
women and men can have
reductions and enlargements and still be respected
as long as they remain true to their biological sex

But when I inquire about hormones and surgeries
it’s like Satan has risen from his cage
to come and steal the girl that you’ve known
or the girl you think you’ve known

And here’s the question:

Why can’t you just love me for who I am
and who I am destined to be
rather than what I do
and who you think I am becoming?

And if I’m not a girl
what does it matter?
I should be loved for my personality
and not for something so trivial as my gender

And if you have the right to call yourselves
my family and friends and teachers and coworkers
then why don’t I have the right to request
a simple pronoun change?

And if I scream to the heavens that
I AM NOT
NOR WILL I EVER BE
A FEMALE

Will it make you feel better or worse
about refusing to accept my new name
and my pronouns
and my identity?

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