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The best thing to do is give in to the start and stop and the beat. Wrestled and walked it off, limp and all. I ran towards the glimmer of sunrise above cloud cover as I stood on narrow high peaks and the knowledge that the ocean is never the same color from moment to moment and the subtle art of making joy out of giant metal shipping containers (despite all the booze that comes with it) and the depths of my very soul. I’m grateful to have found that it wasn’t all running away from things. That alternative stuff is pulling you away from God. You’ve been to college but don’t want to go officer? What’s wrong with you?
You’re trans but don’t want THE surgery? So, you’re lying. You don’t work in your degree’s field? What a failure. Once they’re there, they can be nearly impossible to pull off. Those have a nasty way of wrapping around my arms and ankles and neck to slow me down. Not to mention the need to run from all the assumptions and opinions of those who did not have the honor of sitting in on the conversations, debates, and screaming matches you had with yourself. Then it’s time to run from complacency, the idea that we’re done growing. The first and largest episode nearly killed me.Īll’s not said and done once our peace is made, however. All I could do was wear myself out enough to simply sit with it all-the ache in my soul, an uncomfortable truth, a wound that needed and still needs healing-instead of wrestling with it like Jacob with God, because it’s going to happen again and again and again and I only have so many joints to be knocked out of place. It all caught up with me eventually, though, much like everything catches up to all of us. It’s propelled me through West Michigan woods, around tracks in the muggy South Carolina heat, down narrow roads lining rice fields in the Japanese countryside, and across stretches of plain before the Rockies of Colorado because, beyond the pumping rhythm and driving beat, there were so many things I was running from-a self I didn’t understand, a God who had made it, and a world that truly was not made for who I was. I resonated with that song long before I realized I was transgender.
Run boy run this world is not made for you series#
His writing, including the Faerie Court Chronicles series from NineStar Press, focuses on contemporary fantasy with an emphasis on LGBTQ+ representation. Finnely is stationed at Naval Station Norfolk in Norfolk, VA, where he lives with his wife, Rosalind (’13). Covering the 14th of each month, please welcome Finnely King-Scoular (’14). In August, we bring a set of new full-time writers to the blog.