I Barely Feel Like Me Anymore
I have felt so strange since ringing in the new year – sort of like the ghost of my old self. I look out from behind my eyes but it’s as if I’ve never seen before, and as if they’re not my eyes. I had the sobering thought the other day that I had died – that maybe, in order to rise from the ruin of my old life, I had first to be reduced to ash. I feel like ash. But there is an inexplicable and blinding hope somewhere in the pit of my consciousness – as if, despite these strange feelings, something very good is happening.
I don’t want to be lost in the new year but maybe I have to be in order to find myself. These past two years have been trying for sure. I lost my mother and my job in 2020. I wrote my first manuscript and had my becoming in 2021. Those are broad-stroke summations of events but the point is that I am so far removed from the person that I was just twenty-four months ago that I don’t think I would recognize myself on the street.
I think that’s a good thing. I hope to write another story from the life of Alma Castillo this year. I am so hopelessly in love with her.
To write a good character, you have to fall in love.
- Zayn for a Day
- It Came!
- My Story About a Trans Teenager Was Published in a Literary Magazine!
- Philadelphia, Fall 1992
- Protected: Masculine Trauma and Gender Identity
Take a look at an excerpt from my urban, lgbtqia+ literary fiction romance novel from the POV of a young, Afro-Latina, transgender woman.
The Life Of Alma
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