Leslie Feinberg

men. I felt myselfgetting flushed and myface twitched a little and I started telling her, all cool and calm, about how women like me existed since the dawn of time, before there was oppression, and how those societies repected them,

Have I changed so much?” I asked her, afraid to hear her answer.

She smiled and shook her head. “No. In a way I don’t know how anyone in the world could think you’re a man, especially if they looked into your eyes.”

“I feel like a ghost, Edna. Like I’ve been buried alive. As far as the world’s concerned, I was born the day I began to pass. I have no past, no loved ones, no memories, no me. No one really sees me or speaks to me or touches me.”