(30) Sean Bruce: Waves of Pink and Blue
Six in the morning brings a familiar routine: Get out of bed, put on my binder, take my pills, brush my teeth, get ready for school. An uncommon routine that feels second nature at this point. Most men my age don’t have to complete the second step, but I was born into a more difficult identity to live with.
This wasn't always the way things were. I used to wake up instead to do a face of makeup and put on a dress, feeling unhappy. Society put me in the wrong box from birth, an unfortunate product of the times. My young mind was shrouded with pink ribbons and dolls when all I wanted was toy cars. But the past is already gone, there's no sense in dwelling on it now. Pink slowly became blue, and a constant frown let up occasionally. I was Sean at that moment. My hair was cut, and my dresses were put away. The sun was shining on my face, and I was excited for life.
The man I always dreamed I would be was in reach, and I knew that I would have to fight like hell to get there.
I bore my soul to those closest to me, I told them all what I was, and who I am. All I was met with was scrutiny and doubt.
“Maybe you’re just a tomboy,” remarked my mother. I felt my heart sink, the one person who loved me unconditionally for 14 years put a wall between us.
“You’re going to hell, you’re a girl,” filled my direct messages from the day that I came out and continued to no end. Death threats kept me in the office for sophomore year, the pain it caused kept me in the counselors afterward. Every day hurt to go through, I was alone and waiting for adulthood. That painful wait, I counted the days with lines on my wrist. Every class felt like torture, hearing the wrong name, and having to grin and bear it for the sake of my reputation. Sean was a forever distant dream, and I was living in a nightmare. He was gone.
He returned in the summer, I greeted him like an old friend. I was whole again, happy, scars faded and were replaced by a tan. August was a welcome guest; school presented a fresh start for me. My friends now accepted me, and I found love, confidence, and support outweighed dysphoria tenfold. A binder arrived in the mail addressed to Sean.
“This is it,” I thought to myself. “I’m blue.” Blue was never a sad color, even when I was a young man. It reminded me of the ocean, of the books I read with my grandmother, it was who I was and who I am now.
My school posted auditions for the play and my new friends made sure I auditioned. I was cast as a man. I learned how to lower my voice and feel happy in my own skin. I was put into a suit, and I was addressed by ‘Mr.’ Pink was blue at long last. Until one of the actors I saw as a big brother and a mentor decided that he wanted to hurt me, and a horrifying wave of pink washed over me, pinning me down. I felt damaged like I was an imposter in my own skin. I clung to Sean for dear life, I couldn't let him be taken away from me once more.
But it passed, months of pain slowly washed away until the world saw me as blue again. I fought like hell to keep myself blue, I couldn't stop now. No matter what I knew that I could never stop working, striving to keep myself blue in an ocean of pink that surrounded me. My name is Sean, not ‘it’ or ‘she’ or the name given to me at birth. Sean was no longer a distant goal that I just couldn't seem to reach, he was me, I am him.
“I am Sean,” the phrase turned into sort of a prayer to keep good faith. I whispered it quietly to myself at family reunions, at the house, when I came back to the theatre to heal. I say my prayer to keep myself safe, to stay confident, to tear away from all my pain. It keeps me afloat while I traverse this pink ocean to find a blue horizon. I say it to keep the wind in my little blue sail made from the dresses of a little boy I knew long ago.
I am Sean, and I am a man. I am a man no matter what people say, or what they comment under my pictures. My world will be blue, no one can beat it out of me. My normal childhood years may have been taken from me, but my blue never will. Until my world is fully blue, I am just a young man, on a little blue boat.
Sean Bruce is a transgender man living in Missouri. He uses writing to lift up queer voices in similar situations to him and dedicates his life to the LGBTQ+ community.
This episode was sponsored by:
The Spiral Bookcase, Philadelphia, PA
Dive into the magic of stories with a delightfully strange indie bookstore. From small press to folklore, The Spiral Bookcase carefully curates stories that peer through the worn spot in the tapestry and make you feel like you can step out of your skin for a moment or two. Explore magical books alongside a bewitching collection of candles, tarot decks, crystals and ritual objects, all hand-selected for their wonder and enchantment. Visit The Spiral Bookcase virtually at spiralbookcase.com or follow along on Instagram for recommendations, sneak peeks and more from bookseller & owner Victoria. That's @spiralbookcase.