Definitely

Before our timelines split, before my mind cracked open and my heart fell to pieces for my younger self who leaned in a natural direction but was turned away, I might have stood at the wall of doors and let the world around me pick for me which door to walk through, once again. I might have stayed with her. I might still be a three hour drive from my niblings and I might have seen them more frequently than I do now, living only 20 minutes away. I might not have stood up to him for spending fundraiser money meant for queer kids on his personal bills. I might have waited another 4 months to see him put the money where it was meant to go, never complaining so I would not disturb the peace, same as when I was young and they hit me and put me in isolation over and over again so I would stop saying “I am a boy.” How many more years before that pain resides? I might have never had top surgery. I might still be called by an old name. Maybe I wouldn’t have ever kissed or slept with anyone but my wife. Maybe I wouldn’t have been assaulted by that man who was new in town. I might not have had to learn how to integrate myself in a new community while learning how to become and to let myself say yes to a new love and to try and figure out why this new place isn’t feeling right and to spend lots of time hiding away in my sunlit, 12 ft ceiling apartment in a neighborhood that loses people to murder every year. Maybe I wouldn’t know how calming it is to see the river running through my apartment by way of sunlight reflections on the walls. Maybe I wouldn’t have put into practice how to hold a boundary with a pushy client. I might have never found the courage to do HRT. Perhaps I wouldn’t ever watch my family demonstrate that my grief makes me too much of a burden. That my needs make me a child they don’t want to show up for.

With gratitude, I will keep choosing my own doors to open and which ones to close. With gratitude, I look back to the place I lived, where I stood 4 years ago under a full moon and held The Fool card in my hand and chose to become the person I always wanted to be.

Then the tower crumbled. My isolation began. People’s energy toward me changed. And I left. I didn’t know if I’d ever go back. But here I am, standing at that door from the other side. Salem calls me back in.