This is not exactly what you are talking about, since I am a stranger to you, but ever since I watched Come See Me in the Good Light I have been wanting to tell you how much your words have meant in my life. I am so glad they included "Your Life," in the film. It's the first poem of yours I ever heard. I'm a 28-year-old trans man now but back then I was a lost, hurting, confused kid who thought he was the only person like me in the whole world. The only boy who was told he was a girl who wanted to spit out his own name and kill his god to fall in love and whose gender is an open road. Not much makes me cry anymore but that poem makes me cry every time. Words do not describe what it felt like to realize that I was not the only one, and that there might be a sweet and beautiful life for me, like you say at the end of the poem. You've made the world a different place, a better place, for me with your work. Thank you for shining your light so brightly that it reached me. I have such a sweet and beautiful life in so many ways now, and I like to think that my light is shining, too -- I have been a teacher, a coach, an athlete, a mentor, a writer, now a social worker. Things feel very dark sometimes for trans folks now. Thinking about all of our lights reflecting off each other, constellations growing and multiplying and finding each other, gives me hope. Sending love and power and light.
Jack, your comment has brought tears to my eyes. I’m a 54-year-old trans man who only found out people like us exist when I was 48. I can’t remember the exact moment I realised but I know it was by talking to the first trans man I ever met, just because he came up in my dating app matches, that I realised trans men exited and that it then gradually dawned on me that I was one. That guy is now a good friend (the dating app was wrong about us matching!) and now I realise part of the reason he’s special to me is because he shone his light so brightly that it reached me and changed my life. I only understood that when I read your words to Andrea about their light. I’m feeling called to shine my light more brightly than ever after reading this and your comment. It matters to someone, somewhere.
Andrea, my 12yo daughter Sarah loves you. She's autistic and was born with a rare genetic condition called Apert syndrome, and she keeps asking me how you're doing. She and I sometimes make videos together, when she asks me to.
I just wanted you to know that we love you and it's good to receive, just as you give so much to others and to us. ❤️
This beautiful post brought tears to my eyes! Thank you for sharing it and reminding me that love is our most powerful gift to give and receive! Sending you healing vibes! 👏🍀❤️💕🌈
Thank you. My late son's life was much too hard and ended far too soon, but as you note still worthwhile and his being taken by cancer in no way diminishes the love and bond we have shared since he was born.
Yesterday I was having one of those days where I was thinking ‘what is my value in this world’? And ‘what is my place my in this world’? Then a friend who I don’t talk to that often called to tell me about something really serious going on his life and how he really wanted to talk to me, to get my insight. And I was like, oh ya, that’s my place in this world. To be there for my people, and to positively influence the people directly around me. So yes Andrea, yes!! Being needed is such a good feeling and also to be an example of ‘just because I have this huge problem, doesn’t mean your problems aren’t real or important’. And also, Meg, what a gem.
My wife shared your post with me, and it really resonated with me. You see, last August, after a year of treatment and surgery, my cancer progressed from treatable to terminal. And for the six months following, I felt lost and struggled to navigate life.
With my sense of purpose taken away from me, it was a difficult time. However, like you, I found a way to come back. I discovered that the gift of giving, even while facing illness, is truly amazing.
On that note, I just wanted to say thank you for your willingness to share and give.
i have a few shovels and so often find myself in a hole and boy they come in handy. Their names are friends.. Amazing friends who patiently help me dig til i root out the cause of my real or imaginary suffering. blessed are those with friend shovels
I read at least a poem from your collection every morning, religiously, like it's a holy book. Well, it's holy. Your body of work is definitely divine. I adore you.
You don't know it, but you've helped me LOADS over the last few months. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in February. Although it was non-aggressive and non-invasive, it was still scary. So I asked myself, what would Andrea do? And I found comfort reading your poetry, reading what you've written here over so many months. What you told me is, "live your life. LIVE!" And so I have been. And, as a person who has spent decades dealing with chronic depression, I have found myself what I think of as "unreasonably happy" through the waiting, the fear, and the surgery. That's the biggest gift anyone's ever given me. So thank you! I love you back.
Dear Andrea, thank you for opening up a window to see things differently. I have been struggling with the same feeling of not being able to be there for others in the way I wanted to. For example one of my best friends is having a baby soon. I always imagined myself as being able to go to her city when the baby comes, cleaning their appartment, freezing some cooked meals and leaving a cute note behind on their kitchen table. Now I am too sick to even go to her city, let alone do house work. I feel like your text prompts me to rethink what it actually means to be there for someone and the many ways in which I might still be able to be there for my loved ones.
I think I’m in love with how deeply your partner knows you..
Yes! It’s very hard for me as a giver, when I have no one to love on, no one who is wrestling with something who wants to talk it out.
This is a great essay for everyone to read, both caregivers and those struggling. Giving to others is the best medicine for dealing with one’s own pain.
Andrea, this made me think of what I hear a doctor say about depression the other day: depression is centered in a feeling of a lack of meaning. A lack of mattering. Having something to give that is meaning in others' lives is so key to our ability to thrive. I just love your stuff. We are rooting for you. You are so fortunate to have Med and this circle of friends around you. And we -- WE -- are the lucky ones to have your spirit, your words and all the love you have to give.
As someone living with a severe chronic illness who spends most of her time in bed, loving has been my saving grace. I practice metta & mudita and also abundantly giving authentic positive feedback and love. 💗
I appreciate these words so much and intend to share them with my adult daughter, who is a 3 year survivor of Ewing's Sarcoma. Her treatment was grueling, and her mental health has really suffered since then. I have noticed that when she helps her friends, her mental health is better. Makes sense.
This is not exactly what you are talking about, since I am a stranger to you, but ever since I watched Come See Me in the Good Light I have been wanting to tell you how much your words have meant in my life. I am so glad they included "Your Life," in the film. It's the first poem of yours I ever heard. I'm a 28-year-old trans man now but back then I was a lost, hurting, confused kid who thought he was the only person like me in the whole world. The only boy who was told he was a girl who wanted to spit out his own name and kill his god to fall in love and whose gender is an open road. Not much makes me cry anymore but that poem makes me cry every time. Words do not describe what it felt like to realize that I was not the only one, and that there might be a sweet and beautiful life for me, like you say at the end of the poem. You've made the world a different place, a better place, for me with your work. Thank you for shining your light so brightly that it reached me. I have such a sweet and beautiful life in so many ways now, and I like to think that my light is shining, too -- I have been a teacher, a coach, an athlete, a mentor, a writer, now a social worker. Things feel very dark sometimes for trans folks now. Thinking about all of our lights reflecting off each other, constellations growing and multiplying and finding each other, gives me hope. Sending love and power and light.
Jack, your comment has brought tears to my eyes. I’m a 54-year-old trans man who only found out people like us exist when I was 48. I can’t remember the exact moment I realised but I know it was by talking to the first trans man I ever met, just because he came up in my dating app matches, that I realised trans men exited and that it then gradually dawned on me that I was one. That guy is now a good friend (the dating app was wrong about us matching!) and now I realise part of the reason he’s special to me is because he shone his light so brightly that it reached me and changed my life. I only understood that when I read your words to Andrea about their light. I’m feeling called to shine my light more brightly than ever after reading this and your comment. It matters to someone, somewhere.
Your words and thoughts just made the world even more bright again.
I don't know you, but love to you. Stay strong through these dark days
Thank you for writing this. It is very beautiful.
Andrea, my 12yo daughter Sarah loves you. She's autistic and was born with a rare genetic condition called Apert syndrome, and she keeps asking me how you're doing. She and I sometimes make videos together, when she asks me to.
I just wanted you to know that we love you and it's good to receive, just as you give so much to others and to us. ❤️
This beautiful post brought tears to my eyes! Thank you for sharing it and reminding me that love is our most powerful gift to give and receive! Sending you healing vibes! 👏🍀❤️💕🌈
Thank you. My late son's life was much too hard and ended far too soon, but as you note still worthwhile and his being taken by cancer in no way diminishes the love and bond we have shared since he was born.
Yesterday I was having one of those days where I was thinking ‘what is my value in this world’? And ‘what is my place my in this world’? Then a friend who I don’t talk to that often called to tell me about something really serious going on his life and how he really wanted to talk to me, to get my insight. And I was like, oh ya, that’s my place in this world. To be there for my people, and to positively influence the people directly around me. So yes Andrea, yes!! Being needed is such a good feeling and also to be an example of ‘just because I have this huge problem, doesn’t mean your problems aren’t real or important’. And also, Meg, what a gem.
You Monica are a light ✨️. Thank you for your presence in this world.
Andrea,
My wife shared your post with me, and it really resonated with me. You see, last August, after a year of treatment and surgery, my cancer progressed from treatable to terminal. And for the six months following, I felt lost and struggled to navigate life.
With my sense of purpose taken away from me, it was a difficult time. However, like you, I found a way to come back. I discovered that the gift of giving, even while facing illness, is truly amazing.
On that note, I just wanted to say thank you for your willingness to share and give.
Mike
This is exactly what I needed to read tonight. Love knows no rock bottom. There's always more love to give.
i have a few shovels and so often find myself in a hole and boy they come in handy. Their names are friends.. Amazing friends who patiently help me dig til i root out the cause of my real or imaginary suffering. blessed are those with friend shovels
I read at least a poem from your collection every morning, religiously, like it's a holy book. Well, it's holy. Your body of work is definitely divine. I adore you.
You don't know it, but you've helped me LOADS over the last few months. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in February. Although it was non-aggressive and non-invasive, it was still scary. So I asked myself, what would Andrea do? And I found comfort reading your poetry, reading what you've written here over so many months. What you told me is, "live your life. LIVE!" And so I have been. And, as a person who has spent decades dealing with chronic depression, I have found myself what I think of as "unreasonably happy" through the waiting, the fear, and the surgery. That's the biggest gift anyone's ever given me. So thank you! I love you back.
Thank you for the balm of your words. Love, we can still give love when we are powerless. Oh thank god.
Dear Andrea, thank you for opening up a window to see things differently. I have been struggling with the same feeling of not being able to be there for others in the way I wanted to. For example one of my best friends is having a baby soon. I always imagined myself as being able to go to her city when the baby comes, cleaning their appartment, freezing some cooked meals and leaving a cute note behind on their kitchen table. Now I am too sick to even go to her city, let alone do house work. I feel like your text prompts me to rethink what it actually means to be there for someone and the many ways in which I might still be able to be there for my loved ones.
I think I’m in love with how deeply your partner knows you..
Yes! It’s very hard for me as a giver, when I have no one to love on, no one who is wrestling with something who wants to talk it out.
This is a great essay for everyone to read, both caregivers and those struggling. Giving to others is the best medicine for dealing with one’s own pain.
Love to you both
Andrea, this made me think of what I hear a doctor say about depression the other day: depression is centered in a feeling of a lack of meaning. A lack of mattering. Having something to give that is meaning in others' lives is so key to our ability to thrive. I just love your stuff. We are rooting for you. You are so fortunate to have Med and this circle of friends around you. And we -- WE -- are the lucky ones to have your spirit, your words and all the love you have to give.
As someone living with a severe chronic illness who spends most of her time in bed, loving has been my saving grace. I practice metta & mudita and also abundantly giving authentic positive feedback and love. 💗
I appreciate these words so much and intend to share them with my adult daughter, who is a 3 year survivor of Ewing's Sarcoma. Her treatment was grueling, and her mental health has really suffered since then. I have noticed that when she helps her friends, her mental health is better. Makes sense.
Always such beautiful words for us. You touch my soul every time.