I didn’t have much growing up, but I had dreams. Oh; I had a many dreams. Part of that was an escapism of a child trying to find a balance of expressing and coming to terms with my journey of gender expression and sexuality.
I had dreams that were infinite and far-reaching. I remember doing an assignment in the 6th grade where, I wrote for an assignment, that I dreamt of leaving my mark on the world and effecting great change to communities around me. My teacher scoffed, and laughed at my response, replying that while it was admirable, it would probably not happen.
Growing up, I never had much outside motivation when it came to achieving and going after goals. Most of my motivation came from within; a higher calling and a pull I felt dutied to follow.
Every since I was young, I always was under the assumption that I could have any and everything that I want and aspire to be. Whether it was career-wise or love, I always knew that I could achieve my dreams. I dreamed that regardless of obstacles outside of my control, I could have my dream job and experience endless, far-reaching love.
For a little bit, within the early days of my adulthood, that partly came true. I shot up within the fashion industry, and experienced some romance and love. But all of that began to change as I made the intentful choice of going forth the path of my trans experience and journey.
Almost overnight, it was like my dreams and ambitions became stifled and soon halted. I was given constant excuses and runarounds when I tried to advance within my career. It was often implied for me to aim lower; tone down my boastful and ambitious nature. The more ambitious I tried to be and the more I tried to aim for, it was as if the world was reprimanding me; putting me in my place.
I still held on to the belief that I could reach for the stars and attain them, only as a black woman of trans experience, I never knew how hard it was to get to the stars. While peers around me saw their careers skyrocketing and advancing, and women around me felt love and romance many times over, I was constantly trying to find my footing. I would be told to go after lower, less fulfilling positions. I would be told how people would not want to work with me because of my identity, and the expression. I would be reminded by lovers constantly that I was not worth more than momentary pleasure, regardless of what I had to offer.
Now, at some point, I stopped dreaming. Stopped aspiring for the moon. I think it somewhere between being fired for being black and trans (and being unable to find employment after working in my industry for a decade), and having a man leave me because, as he told me, he could never “bring me home to his mother.” I can’t be so sure because I was so busy trying to survive that I couldn’t see the dreams and the light behind them leaving.
Ask me what my dreams now, and it could be as simple as just… having a stable roof over my head, a job that pays my bills, and being able to walk the streets safely. As a black woman of trans experience, daily life seemed to snatch my dreams away from me. I feel like so much of my time is spent trying to work and overcome daily obstacles and trials, that I can’t remember what it is like to have the space to allow myself to ‘dream big’. I think back to when I was so ambitious, and how many times I was knocked down and off my high horse.
As a black woman of trans experience, I am given the constant message, through media, cis black man, and through various communities that my intersectional identity is a part of, that my life is disposable, and doesn’t matter. I am not supposed to dream and aspire for love and greatness.
As I sit on the crux of the next chapter of my life, I can’t help but try to channel those big dreams, and reaching for the stars. But first, I will attempt to get back on that horse.
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