In my life, I have traveled around the world, I have seen more than most of you will ever see. I have done things that most of you will never do. Some have been bad and some have been good, some I wouldn’t do over even if I could.
Today I sit and wonder about all those times that have gone by. Somethings we can easily understand and some things we never know what or why that were part of our lives.
People tell me about God. That God is there for me, only if I choose to open that door and allow him into my heart and soul.
I would like to say that yes I believe in God, but I can not say that and mean it with an open heart. I can not feel Gods love inside my heart and mind.
I know that I have had a hard life, some of you would never understand the things that I have had to deal with, not just now, but from the very beginning of my being.
Most of you had the chance to come up in a world full of love and joy. People caring for your every need. When things like Christmas came around your life was great. You got what you wanted and you were happy about it. Hell I didn’t even know what Christmas was till I was 13 and then it still was nothing but BS to me.
Anyway, That is nothing but carp anyway.
It is like for some reason I was born into a world of hatred and misunderstanding. My parents wanted nothing to do with me, so they gave me up to the welfare.
The welfare didn’t know what to do with me, so they just moved me from one place to another. I lived in 7 foster homes in 10 years. They told me it was my fault because I was a boy and no one wanted a boy. That was why my own mother gave me up in the first place. She kept the girls, why didn’t she give them up???
I have been in about three or four relationships with others only to end up alone. For some reason I was never good enough for these people, because they thought they were better than me or they got all they wanted from me and left.
Today I spend a lot of time thinking about what I have done to help others like myself. I believe that for the most part I have help in making this world a better place for some. Even though it has been hard on me, I feel that by me dressing the way I have done has allowed others here to see that we are different in many ways. I am not black or yellow green and blue, I am not fat or thin, but I am who I am. I am a women trapped in a mans body and I can not change that. I dress as a women everyday of my life and that I will not change. When I walk out into the public eye I show them my true self, I do not lie. I have bee hated for just being me. That does not matter anymore. I will die being me.
I am sure that I have as much of a shot at heaven as anyone else. So let God be my judge and as I have told my friend that cares for me, please dress me and make me as pretty as can be, so if I go to hell I will be dressed to kill.
My doctors ask me if I deal with depression and I have to say, yes I do. When they ask what do I do to help me deal with it, I tell them I write, I write about the way I feel to help me and somehow maybe help someone else. Knowing that you have depression is one thing, but being able to deal with it is something else. I have learned that by writing, it has given me an outlet. A means of saying what I need to say without sitting in front of someone. It allows me time to think about what I am dealing with and face it head on. The truth is, I have lived my life the way I have chosen to, I can not blame anyone else for that. I am dying and there is nothing I can do about that either. What I can do is embrace my faith and live for myself.
I cannot walk in your shoes to know what you deal with just like you cannot walk in mine. Each of us has to live the life we were given to live and no two people were given the same life. That is what makes us individual, that is what makes us different.
Though for today.. I know that sometimes it is hard for me to write about the way I am feeling, so I know that it is hard for you to deal with your depression also. I can only write what I feel, maybe you should write about the way you feel.
As much as I want to die and go home, I also want to live on. I cannot have them both, so I have chosen to allow my creator take me when he is done with.
My name is Miss Bobbie Jean and I will always have this Dream.
“ ONE RACE CALLED THE HUMAN RACE”