Transcript

I’m Ada Limón and this is The Slowdown.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always had a hard time with the phrase that appears on social media, “hashtag blessed.” There’s something almost too precious about it. I picture a perfectly curated instagram post with some gorgeous smiling person in expensive white loungewear who seems utterly perfect, and utterly unreal, and underneath the photo is the phrase “hashtag blessed.” It’s ironic really. I’m someone who loves gratitude and knows it can change your brain, and yet I can’t help but feel immediately sarcastic when someone says, “Have a blessed day.”

When I first moved to Kentucky, I found myself resisting it every chance I could get. I didn’t want to be blessed. That felt too clean, too sterile, too easy. I wanted to be human and messy and the rough-around-the-edges weirdo I have grown to love. It wasn’t even a religious thing for me. I also couldn't figure out how someone could bless me or how someone had the power to bless me. It felt like you should be ordained to bless me, or at least be wearing a robe.

For some reason, the phrase “Blessed be” never bothered me as much. I think it’s because no one was necessarily offering a reprieve, but instead acknowledging that something was already blessed, just by being in the world.

In today’s poem, we see that idea of blessedness explored in terms of gender and transitioning. I love this poem because it holds so much up to the light, turns it, and allows for everything to be seen in love. A true way of blessing.

What We Talk About When We Talk About the Pursuit of Gender Euphoria
by Levi Cain

blessed be. 
the body. blessed. 
holy ghost in
ethical spandex. in glitter 
holding silicone
as the staff. blessed.
magritte’s mermaid 
strolling past in
birkenstocks
and into the hot hands of 
a fisherwoman,
that which is our 
lady of transition.
blessed. laurels made of 
nylon and cotton and five 
milliliters of. thank you 
for asking. it’s old. it didn’t 
cost that much, 
considering. fifteen pounds of
flesh and rowan says california
is nice this time of year,
besides which it’s cheaper.
blessed. the press
of cheekbone to 
mirror to open palm.
lavender and brandy
under your 
tongue for an entire
weekend. blessed.
joy as a watermelon
seed i keep 
swallowing on
purpose. as 
a scripture. as a millstone, 
gifted from camila’s neck,
now used to broaden my
shoulders. blessed.
inheritance being
my father’s curling
beard now on
my own jaw. blessed. 
inheritance being
hips wide as the
atlantic. blessed. inheritance 
being whatever the fuck
i want it to be. blessed. 
my body not a 
temple but a 
disco spinning itself into
the ground. blessed.
the blaze a shower 
of sequins. blessed. 
my body rising from 
the ashes. blessed. thank 
god i survived enough
to be someone who 
could bring you flowers—miracle.

"What We Talk About When We Talk About the Pursuit of Gender Euphoria" by Levi Cain. Used by permission of the poet.