Autobiographical

Through the lens of poetry, a transgender writer reflects on how their journey of constant reinvention has shaped their creativity and self-discovery.

By the time Quinn sat down at the desk, they had already filled dozens of pages with fragments of thoughts, broken verses, and lines that never quite fit together. The words came in waves—sporadic, chaotic, as if the pen were trying to outrun the storm in their mind. They had never been the type to write neatly or according to any set rule. But this collection, this strange collection of poems, was different.

For weeks, they had been scribbling words without fully understanding why they were doing it, or who the character in the poems even was. There were mentions of a figure, constantly shifting—sometimes male, sometimes female, other times something more ambiguous. There were lines about skin changing, about the ache of transformation, about the yearning for…

In a world that demanded conformity, Robert Thompson spent a lifetime crafting a mask to survive, but beneath it, a truth long buried yearned to be seen.

Robert James Thompson was born in the mid-1950s to a working-class family in the Midwest. From the start, Robert—whom everyone affectionately called "Bobby"—felt out of place in the world they were thrust into. By the age of six, Bobby was already crafting stories, drawing pictures, and creating imaginary friends, an outlet for a creativity born not only of childhood innocence but also of deep, unspoken truths.

Bobby knew, even at a young age, that something inside didn’t align with what was expected. But in the world of mid-century America, such feelings had no name, no room to exist.

As adolescence approached, Bobby's parents grew concerned about their child’s increasing "unmanly" tendencies. Fearing judgment from their church and community, they enrolled Bobby in a…

This story is a childhood memory of my mother and her sisters, whose deep bonds and holiday traditions brought warmth and joy to our family.

The Monti sisters—Olga, the oldest; Albert, their only brother; Vera, Marie, Franny, and the twins, Martha Jo and Margaret (who they lovingly called "Babe" since she was the last to be born)—had come a long way from their roots in the small coal mining town of Western, Pennsylvania. Though their hometown was far behind them, the bond between them remained as strong as ever. Now, they lived scattered across the city, each sister with her own family and life, but nothing could break the traditions they had built over the years.

The Monti sisters had always been big on celebrating the holidays, especially Christmas. It all began the moment Thanksgiving dinner ended at Olga’s house, where the family gathered every year. Olga, the most well-off…

In the fall of 1970, a shy sophomore boy met a shy freshman girl, and what began as a simple attraction quickly blossomed into a love that would color his world.

It was the fall of 1970, and I was a sophomore, still a skinny, awkward kid trying to bulk up in my friend's basement gym. I was lifting weights, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, hoping to look like a badass. Anne, my high school sweetheart, was a freshman at the time. I noticed her across the room, visiting my friend’s sister, and it wasn’t long before I was struck by her presence. She was shy, a little quiet, but there was something about her—something that immediately grabbed my attention. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that her well-developed figure was the first thing I noticed, but as we started talking, I realized she was so much more…