I’ll Tell You Mine If You Tell Me Yours

Some people’s stories are just beginning, some started many years ago. But wherever your story takes you. What brought you comfort through that time? I’ll go first.

There’s this box. It’s a tide pods container painted with plants, planets, a biohazard symbol, a rainbow syringe, and a crude painting of a penis spewing green goo. It serves as the sharps container for all of the used syringes I have acquired over the few years I have been doing my shots, and at this point, it’s in pretty rough shape. The paint is chipping, the lid is cracked, and it’s about 10 shots away from being too full to use, but I still find myself unable to part with it. This old and withering tide pod box has been with me since the beginning of my transition and is still with me three whole years later. Since 2020 and the start of my transition, this box has seen more of my highs and lows than any person ever has. It was there when I did my first shot unassisted and witnessed the sheer joy that radiated off of me and was there during the breakup I went through when I came out to my partner and I saw the heartbreak of me thinking that if one person broke up with me because I’m trans, then surely others would as well. It was there when I was a freshman living in the dorms and even now when I am only a month out from finishing my degree.

This box has been with me through everything. And now, as it sits on my shelves at the foot of my bed, only being pulled out for my biweekly Sunday shot, it still makes me smile to think about how when I purchased it I had no idea how much my life would change from that point forward. I have been through hell and back in my transition and my box has been there through it all. There is not a single other object that I have that has provided me with as much comfort as this little plastic container has. I have gone through numerous depression hoodies and pieces of clothing that I had and still have that I wore for years to try and hide who I was before I came out. The blue hoodie that I wore from 8th grade through my senior year of high school. The binder my friend bought for me as a junior that I still wear to this day. The baggy jeans and doc martens boots that I thrifted to help me look more androgynous when I was still experimenting with my identity. None of that compares to the $15 tide pod box I forced my friend to help me pick out and paint on the wood floor of my dorm room freshman year, 10 days before everyone was kicked out because of Covid. I am now a graduating senior and am after years of fighting with my insurance about coverage (to no avail,) and assuring my parents that this is something that I want more than anything. Something I need more than anything, I am getting top surgery in May. And this box, however damaged, is still with me.

I don’t think that questioning my identity is ever truly going to end. But, I have finally reached a place where I am okay with that fact. And I think that finding my comfort item, the one thing that has helped to affirm who I am in life has helped me to be able to be okay with the fact that I might be questioning my identity for a lot longer than I ever really thought I would. And maybe that item is a cracked, painted-on, and faded tide pod container. But, it has helped me feel more like a man. More like a person than any amount of testosterone, or any surgery could ever do for me.