The Mak Nyah.

I have been pondering over what I should do to stand up on my feet again. Funnily enough, one of my gay friends said not to worry so much, to not be negative and told me that anything can happen. Reading an article today about the LGBT in Malaysia gives me great fear of what is to become of me in the coming months. It also goes to show just how contrasting the fates of homosexual male or females are with those of us who are transgenders. Perhaps it is not too much, to seriously take a deep look at what is coming for me.

KUALA LUMPUR: The Government's offer of welfare aid to homosexuals should be extended to the Mak Nyah (transgender) instead.

Pink Triangle Foundation programme director Raymond Tai said most homosexuals were "well-to-do" as they were employed just like "normal people" and would only face discrimination if they were open about their status.

"They are not like the Mak Nyah who are physically different. The Mak Nyah do not get employed and this results in them prostituting themselves," he said. (emphasis added)

It is not something new to me. It was something I had faced prior to meeting my husband. In November of last year, I was clear of HIV during a medical check up and on the way to getting married. Now I am getting ready to move out of my friend’s house to an air of uncertainty. I have been through a life on the streets before, but this time it is different. I was supposed to be saved from the tyrannical treatment towards transgenders. Now it felt like the wings of hope and peace I had, violently being torn away as I fall again into oblivion.

I am 32, which in Malaysian standards is considered getting old. I have crooked teeth and a face infested with acne scars. I am too tall for a girl, not pretty, without varsity education, no big breasts and not passable as a woman. I am dead giveaway every time I walk out, contrary to the brief Australian life I had. Sometimes I do have regrets of not taking my life. At times it is just too painful to live as who I am out there that death becomes a comforting option. But when I wanted to die, God somehow insists of me to suffer right here.

I jumped in front of a few buses in Chonburi, but I cannot be more amazed how slow the buses suddenly chose to move. I climbed up the bridge ready to jump but was stopped by the policeman. I took a scissors at my hotel room near the clinic ready to cut it off myself, but the receptionist suddenly disturbed me with a call. This is ridiculous! Back in Malaysia, the temptation to end it all followed me, but for friends who called me out for drinks to console me and try to assist me in looking for jobs. I cannot even depend on my own Christian cell group too much. I ended up sharing the hurt with the radio in my room.

I have days in countdown to go before I jump back to the realities of the world. My fairytale is not only over, it is becoming a hell for me. Sometimes I wish I was not given hope and peace at all. It is all because I was given such grace so close to my holy grail then it was pulled out of me along with my flesh and my soul in such drastic fashion. That gives me a grief that is beyond all despair. And no one would understand what I am facing now even among the LGB community. Only the T would understand.

For once I realized why the T always said there is nothing wrong with prostitution. Even some of the LGB and society do not really mind us being in the sex trade. I even have friends who are going to suggest to me some GRO jobs in some sleazy karaoke bar. It is a way for some good cash. It is as if this can be considered a way of life better than doing nothing. As if this is our place, and also my place in this world. Well, I had my worth of a normal life for the past one year. Seems nothing is going to stop this impending destiny. I admit. I am not that strong. I am fearful and afraid for my future.

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