I felt like less than a man today. Questioned my manhood, and felt empty. Who am I?

My partner’s parents refuse to acknowledge me as a man. The man that I know I am inside. A proud man. Not cocky or overly annoying, not in your face or abrasive. Just a man doing his own thing, trying to live his live for him and the family he’s trying to create.

Instead I was called an Italian Woman, due to the pubescent hairs growing into my chin. Only one word could my mind create, RUDE. How dare you do this to me in a setting full of people? At a family event?

But I pushed my lips together and felt the sting of betrayal as they laughed. Felt my face grow red with anger as I sat, taking their ignorance in blows to the gut. My heart ached. How dare they?

How can you not see me as a man? Because of a simple letter placed on my birth certificate? And my partner’s father says he will never do so. Even after top surgery, a full grown beard and mustache, and an M on my driver’s license. I will always be “she.” Cursed to have “her” in the corner for the rest of my life. Damn my birth. Damn me for not being born male.

But those pieces of dirt. Those guys with fifteen kids they don’t even care to know exist, those broke down sad pathetic guys who rape and kill and don’t care. Those are men? That’s a real man? That’s what I should be?

I think the thing that cracks me up about it the most is that my partner’s father needs T himself. Has to wear a patch. But I’m looked down on for weekly shots. While I’m watching my body grow in wonder and excitement, I’m immediately put down for not having an M.

A letter. A letter will haunt me.

This is when I say fuck them. I’m a fantastic man.

I’m openly trans and happy to say I am Male. What the fuck are you?