Archive for the category Personal Stories

Personal stories category consists of random thoughts, rants and experiences of Gaysis (and supporters) about the world around them.

588 posts

The Closet

We move on, leave people behind Yet; the closet, does not forget and holds the power to unexpectedly remind

Home

I lie down on my bed, I lie down on my bed & look at the ceiling- And I think how all of my family members deserve to get awarded Because of their brilliant acting skills.

Gender: Alto

Every Valentine’s Day gig I’m offered, I’m performing along with a cis-man because the hotel wanted a “boy-girl duet” to up their romance quota. This triggers bouts of dysphoria because my voice is what puts me in the “girl” category in such gigs. While being a transman is a part of my identity, being a musician is an even bigger part.

Being Bisexual Is Not About Love For Me

As the months passed, I was running out of reasons to convince my brain that I was heterosexual. The only straw I was holding on to was that I knew for sure I’d been attracted to boys. I knew I liked them, in the way that the movies told me I was supposed to. But I didn’t know how to tell the difference between really wanting to be friends with a girl and being attracted to her.

Rainbow Love

SHE — taught me love, moreover made me realize my true self more than anybody ever could. She offered me her friendship and I wanted to offer her all my love and we both met in the middle ground like dawn before the night crept in.

On The Count Of Three

One the count of three, I will ask for your hand for a walk, "You will call me by your name and as I will call you by mine", We will walk by the beach to the sunrise, Sharing a kiss and a moment so divine.

‘Unbelieving’ With Believers

After my sibling and I were diagnosed with the disability, together with our polytheistic family, we climbed auspicious mountains, sat beneath the knees of Gurus, drank an unusual variety of unprocessed fresh milk and underwent a painful therapy where by ‘a miraculously blessed one’ operated on our bare skin with his ‘tactile gift’.

The Becoming

Gehu. Ge hu. Ge hu. Gay hu! Gay hu! Gay hu! That is the story of how I became gay, and, no, I didn't shit my pants when I realised it.

Hug Day

For the word 'hug', I know what it means, I know what its purpose is, I know that it is supposed to provide me with warmth, A shoulder on which i can cry and laugh and talk about weird stuff, A shoulder on which i gently lay my chin.

Freedoms Right

I hope this life brings me this treasure, So the triumph of my struggle will be a measure, To reunite my body and soul, And I will once again become whole.

Love.Madness.Labels

Its these boxes of the past- They’ve told me cis men show love this intense Can’t take no for a no. But here you are scaring me, A woman in love this intense

Co-existing With Other Sexual Orientations

I was disheartened to not be able to do anything about my urges, feelings and thought process. I was experiencing a major sexual shift between a man and a woman at the same time. I read more. I realised, that amidst a huge spectrum of sexual identities, both men and women get lost and end up in an identity crisis.

Coming Out To My Mom

What I remember is for days, weeks after that, I feared that in my sleep I would be sent away to some freaky conversion camp or something. It got better over some time. But after a few months, the news was filled with reports of a bisexual girl in India who committed suicide after she ran away from a conversion camp her family forcibly sent her to after she came out to them.

Unlearning Dislikes

Over time, I somehow came to the conclusion that the presence or absence of body hair connoted specific values; the absence of body hair was representative of a concern with cleanliness, hygiene and fragrance whereas the presence or abundance of body hair meant being stinky, dirty and unhygienic.

When You Come Out

It is a new morning. You know you will have to do this over and over and over. Everytime, you get a little bit stronger. Not because it gets easy, but because you know the battleground so well.

Poem: Stripped Naked

My dad said, " You are my brave boy, you don't need a mask to help you shine." But little did they know, the mask was now my identity, Some people knew me with the mask and they loved me.
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