“You can't correct nature. A stick that's born twisted never straightens out its trunk.”
“No se puede corregir a la naturaleza. Palo que nace doblado, jamás su tronco endereza.”
Are lyrics from the song, “El gran varón.”
“That’s right. You can’t correct nature.”
Was my uncle's response, as the song played on our road trip.
The dumbest response I can think of for this song, might I add.
“El gran varón” is an old salsa song about the sad, lonely demise of a queer person in the 80s. Simón, heavily implied to be a transwoman, was a real person, estranged by their family, that died from HIV. Willie Colón created this song to spread acceptance and kindness towards LGBT people, so others don’t suffer the same fate.
And yet, my uncle chose that one lyric, mocking the hateful people the song is targeting, to agree with.
My uncle is young, we were kids together, and we are naturally very close. So I, a closeted transman, felt hurt at that moment. For a while now, I always thought I could be more of a guy around him. I was able to just fuck around, go out to drink with him, not be treated so fragile like others tend to treat me. This is an opportunity I don’t want to lose, I’m sick of living behind a mask.
But, I should really learn to stop being so hopeful about my family. I’m closeted for a reason.
Sitting here, listening to “El gran varón” on loop, I remember something my mom told me over a month ago. “You can’t know you’re a man if you aren’t actually living as a man. Go out into the world, and come back to tell me who you really are.”
I have never been so sure of myself in my life. Here I am, independent, grown, out in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people. I’m constantly interacting with others, always perceived, from bars to mountains to beaches to every inch of ground that I hope to one day call my home. And I know who I am.
I’m meant to be a good husband, a great dad. My voice should resonate freely in a sound that doesn’t hurt my throat. I must live my life. To create myself in an image that I’m proud to see in the mirror. I will not kill my soul to feel accepted ever again.
This song is still playing in my ears, and I’m so happy I could cry. One day, I’ll be the man someone loves to dance with. One day, I’ll be able to share myself with the world, to be judged and adored for who I truly am. One day, my name will be printed on something incredible. And, I’ll be remembered as who I became, not who I was born as.
I can’t wait any longer, I am a free man. Once I’m back in the USA, I am doing whatever it takes to live my life as happily as I can. There’s too much hardship and unfairness in life. I am going to struggle, I am going to hurt, I might lose my family, or at least, they will lose the mask I’ve always worn. But, there’s an honest future I know I’ll reach, that will make all that pain worth it.
I will be in my tiny apartment, singing in a voice of my own, dancing as the person God hoped to create. And, I’ll celebrate my right to self compassion.