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A Goddess on Earth

123

I stood, surrounding, in a sea of people. We all moved as one, gently swaying one direction and then another. We looked like stalks of wheat during a summer breeze or sea grass rocking to the moon's invisible pull. And the entire world was awash in sound. The most beautiful sound in the world. My hands were in the air as I swayed and I felt a spiritual, almost religious, connection to the music that set us swaying. Because, while I was just a tiny part of a larger group, my attention (everyone's attention) was focused on the center. Towards our Goddess. In that moment, I felt transcendent, like nothing in the world mattered but the music speaking to my soul.

I guess other people in the audience thought differently. To them, it may just have been a concert. Something to do on a Friday night in a mid-sized city with nothing else really going on. In fact, the singer was just the opening act. She'd sing for an hour then someone else would come along and sing for two. But for me, it was the most important and uplifting experience of my life.

At the time I was 19 years old and a sophomore in college. The woman singing on stage was 28 years old, her name was Young-Mi and she had been my idol from the time she was 18. I found a clip of her singing on the internet. She was already a pretty big deal in South Korea but her song was in English. Her music was K-Pop, you know Korean pop music. Most of the people in the U.S. know about Gangnam Style or maybe Rain, but K-Pop is even bigger than that. There are a bunch of absolutely beautiful and talented female artists in addition to those boys. It is almost surprising they don't have a bigger following here in America. And Young-Mi was the best. She has the most amazing videos, most of them in English. She is a great dancer, I mean one of the best dancers. And her videos are fun and the songs are really catchy. If you can hear one without humming along, you are not human.

And Young-Mi is absolutely the most beautiful and the most talented woman on Earth. I could write pages and pages about her various songs and they way they've made my life better. I mean, the content is usually pretty light, that is the nature of pop music. But you can just tell by the way she sings and the quality of her songs that she really has the soul of an artist. As for beauty, I can't say enough. She has the perfect, ovular face with big brown eyes and the longest eye lashes I have ever seen. Her nose is small and perfectly symmetrical. Her cheeks are high and full and her lips are thick and pink. She has the most incredibly long, straight black hair. She was a short woman, around 5'4 and very thin. She had pretty big breasts for an Asian woman, a perfect stomach, and voluptuous hips, and a bit of a bubble butt. From the first time I saw her, I knew that I wanted to look exactly like her, she was perfect.

The song ended and I clapped wildly, like I had for every other song. She smiled at the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming and listening to me. You have all been so amazing," she said in her delicate voice. I could hear her voice whenever I closed my eyes. I'd seen every interview she'd ever given, but it was so amazing to hear it in real life. "I have time for one more song, you've been wonderful!" I let out a groan, other people just clapped politely. I couldn't believe it was almost over, I felt like I'd just gotten there. I heard a man standing next to me say something to his friend. I was a little annoyed that he was speaking while she was speaking, but I overheard what he was saying.

"Yeah, my girlfriend ran back to get me a beer. I told her it was the least she could do for dragging me to this thing. Although, I have to admit this...Young, whatever... this chick. I have to admit, she is pretty fucking hot," he said and his buddy started to laugh.

"Dude!" his friend said, but couldn't finish from laughing

"What?" He asked. His friend laughed once more, and then managed to speak.

"Dude, I was talking to my girlfriend about Young-Mi, she told me, that chick has a dick!" he said laughing again, "And you think she's hot!" The guy looked on the stage.

"No fucking way! That chick?!"

"I swear to God, I looked it up, she was born a dude," the guy said. Well there was that as well. And I didn't like the way it felt like they were making fun of her. I looked over at them acidly.

"She is a transwoman," I spat, "please be quiet, I want to hear her sing." The guys looked at me and laughed again. Then one guys, the one who had "outed" Young-Mi to his friend, got wide eyed and I saw him look back and forth between me and the stage.

"Woah honey, you kind of look like her," he said to me and then laughed harder, "No offense."

"None taken," I said, feeling absolutely steamed. Luckily, the music built to a deafening level and I turned my eyes back to the stage and watched Young-Mi singing one of my favorite songs. Suddenly, whatever discomfort I felt with those men melted away. That was the way I always felt, whenever I heard her music I didn't feel weird or out of place.

It was difficult, I'd always known I would grow up to be a woman, even if my parents told me I was a boy. And when I'd discovered Young-Mi, I learned that I could not only grow up to be a woman, I could grow up to be a beautiful, famous, and brilliant woman. She was honest about her genetic make-up, she was fiercely resistant to any transphobia, and she kept a sense of humor. She was the absolute perfect role model for a girl like me. I wanted to BE her. She was the person who gave me the courage to demand that my parents begin giving me hormones when I was 10 and kept at them until they finally broke down and did it when I was 12. They still didn't accept me for who I was, but they knew they couldn't stop it. And she was the one who kept me going through high school and even now, into college. She was the most important influence on my life.

To honor her, and to try to make myself as beautiful as possible, I'd tried to make myself as much like her as possible. The jerks at the concert weren't lying; I did look a lot like Young-Mi. I had to wear contacts, so I wore the ones that made my eyes the same shade as hers (mine are naturally a less brilliant shade of brown, almost gray). I cut my hair to look like her hair and wore lipstick the same color as her lips. I used makeup to accentuate my cheekbones to give myself the same elegant look as her. I saved up my money and got breast implants and butt implants to make myself look like her. And I worked out constantly so I'd have the same flat stomach and thin legs as her. I put a picture of her in the corner of my mirror so that I could check myself against her each morning. I couldn't help that I was a little shorter than her at 5'3, but other than that I was pretty close. The guy was trying to make a joke about my appearance, but I took it as a compliment. Anyway, it likely meant his friend thought I was hot.

I was thinking about this when suddenly a person ran into me from behind. I was off-balance from swaying to the music and landed on my knees. At first I thought it was the men from before, I'd had my share of tormentors in the past. I knew how they operated. I rolled over and looked at the person who'd knocked me down at my favorite part of the song! But it wasn't one of the men from before. It was a young woman, a little older than me. She looked frazzled. The song came to an end, there was polite applause and the lights went on. I looked around to see if anyone was laughing at me. When bad things happened, people laughed at me. But no one seemed to notice. Even the guys from before were walking away while the roadies started moving Young-Mi's stuff off the stage for the main act.

"I am so sorry," the woman said, as soon as she could be heard. She stood up quickly then extended her arm down. I was still a little mad that she'd made me miss the end of the song, but I took her hand and she helped me up, "Hey I really didn't mean to do that, I have got like a thousand things to do and...:"

"It's okay," I said, turning to look, trying to catch one more glance of my idol before she walked off the stage, but she was already gone. Dejected, I hung my head while the woman continued to speak at me.

"Oh hey!" She said suddenly, "You look a lot like Young-Mi!" That brightened me a little I looked up at her.

"I'm her biggest fan," I said softly. The woman clapped and smiled.

"Did you come here just for her? Were you going to stay for the next act?" she asked. I found her behavior odd, but her good-natured interest in me put me at ease. I answered her questions.

"Yes, I've been wanting to see her for ten years. I was just going to leave now," I said honestly.

"No!" she said, "No she is absolutely going to flip when she sees you!" the woman said and I was confused, she hadn't seen me. She was already off stage.

"What?" I asked, feeling confused. The woman didn't seem to notice what I was saying. She looked over her shoulder at the stage.

"My name is Sarah. I am her Young-Mi's assistant," she said. I felt a simmering resentment for her. Had I known such a position was even possible, I would have been trying to get it for the last two years. She extended her hand again and I shook it. "Sometimes she gets a little bit down at these shows in the U.S. It is tough on her, not being a star. I mean, she is so big in Korea and in South America. So what do you think?" she asked. She looked at me quizzically, like she was expecting an answer. I sputtered for a minute.

"Yeah, I can never figure out why she is not more popular..." I said uneasily. I didn't like the idea of Young-Mi being upset. Sarah laughed sweetly.

"No, I mean do you want to cheer her up? Go meet her?" Sarah said. I felt light-headed. I had fantasized about just this moment from the time I was 9 years old. Someone, somehow, finding out that I needed to meet Young-Mi and then setting up a meeting. I felt so dizzy I almost toppled over.

"I...uh..."

"Oh hey it is cool if you don't want to," Sarah said, raising her hands to let me know there was no pressure. I sputtered again and she started to turn around.

"NO!" I yelled, almost too loud. She turned back, "I really, really, really want to meet her." Sarah laughed and took my hand.

"Follow me," she said, "She will be back stage relaxing in her dressing room." I followed Sarah but my head was completely in the clouds. I was going to meet Young-Mi! What would I say? What would she say? Would she like me? Would she be even more beautiful in person? I didn't even notice as we passed through hallways and walked down stairs. I was completely inside of my head. Finally we reached a closed door with "Young-Mi" temporarily stenciled on it. My heart was beating like a hummingbird. I felt like I might keel over. This was really happening! Sarah knocked on the door.

"Yes?" A voice ask. 'A voice' what am I saying, THE voice, the Goddess spoke. I could hear her through the door. I was just a few feet away from Young-Mi.

"It's Sarah, I ran into a fan out on the arena floor. I think you'll want to meet her," Sarah said and then gave me a big smile. I couldn't contain myself, I smiled and jumped up and down.

"Of course, send her in," Young-Mi said. Sarah opened the door and motioned for me to walk in. Very slowly, I walked into the dressing room. It was cramped little dressing room. One side wall had a big green couch. On the far wall it had just a table, a mirror, and a chair. But sitting in that chair was Young-Mi! She looked stunning close up. Her hair was shining and her face looked serene, beautiful. She was wearing a little white robe and I could see her sparkling blue dress and a thong lying on the floor in heap. The robe was only cinched loosely, her cleavage was clearly visible. I was intensely aware that Young-Mi was not wearing anything under her robe! She brushed some hair out of her face languidly and smiled.

"Hello, so nice to meet you!" she said with such utter sincerity. I moved towards her and took her hand. I had her hand in mine! Her skin felt so soft that I held it slightly too long. She had a sort of embarrassed look on her face and I dropped her hand.

"So...So good to meet you too," I said, realizing that Young-Mi was hearing my voice!

"Doesn't she look like you?" Sarah asked from the doorway. Young-Mi looked at me and smiled.

"I don't know," she said, "She looks younger. And prettier." I couldn't control my smile. Now I knew I was younger than, but not nearly as pretty as, her. But she said I was pretty!

"Oh you are the most beautiful woman in the world. I am your absolute biggest fan," I managed to say and Young-Mi laughed.

"I see why Sarah brought you," she said. Then she looked over my shoulder at Sarah, "Thanks for bringing her here. Go ahead out and watch the rest of the show, you don't need to stay here and baby-sit us. Just put whatever else you brought over on the counter." Sarah didn't speak, just nodded, set down a bunch of papers, and then walked out of the room. She closed the door behind me. Now I was alone in a room with my hero. It was just too perfect!

"Would you like something to drink?" Young-Mi asked me, pointing to her mini-fridge. My mouth felt dry, but I didn't want to bother her, so I shook my head.

"I've wanted to look like you since I was 9 years old," I blurted out. I had planned out, in detail, long conversations I would have with Young-Mi if I ever got the chance, but those ideas were out the window. I was too overcome. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I noticed each little movement that she made. She seemed not to take much notice of what I said but kept smiling. She spoke back gently.

"So what is your name?" she asked. It was apparent she realized that I was not capable of starting a normal conversation. But I was very proud of my next answer.

"Young-hee," I said. She looked at me quizzically. She was sitting in a chair and she crossed her legs at the knee and leaned forward towards where I was standing.

"A Korean name huh?" she asked looking me over, "A very pretty name. I didn't think you looked Korean."

"I'm not!" I said, my words spilling out I was so proud, "My mom is Japanese-American and my dad is from Argentina. I took my name because it sounded like yours." It was something I had decided on early in my transition to womanhood. A way to honor Young-Mi. A Korean name that sounded almost identical her name. I don't know what I expected her to do. But her brow just sort of furrowed and she titled her head to the side. She wasn't smiling anymore.

"What did your name used to be?" she asked. I blushed heavily and looked down at my feet. I wasn't anything before I was Young-hee, before I was a human monument to my Goddess. But I couldn't lie.

"Ignacio," I said uncomfortably. I heard Young-Mi cluck her tongue.

"Are you a girl like me?" she asked I was still bowing down, my eyes closed. But I felt a sudden pressure on my chin. My eyes flew open and Young-Mi tilted my chin up so I was looking at her. She was so gentle. She raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"Yes," I said, smiling, "You made me think it was okay to be a girl like you. I named myself after you." It was what I had always wanted to say to her. If nothing else, I wanted to say that. I saw tears welling in her eyes.

"Young-hee," she said, "You make me want to keep going, to keep being a singer." And I felt a sudden wave of euphoria wash over me. I felt tears in my eyes as well. This was absolutely perfect. Young-mi pointed over towards the couch and I sat down on it, she sat down next to me. Right next to me, our knees were touching.

'Young-Mi," I said, "I have imagined meeting you a thousand times. I know everything about you..." I started telling her all of things about me. All of the ways that she had helped me through the hard times in my life, how she was still helping me with hard times in my life. I told about things that I knew that happened in her life and how they had affected me. The whole time she looked at me and nodded. Occasionally she would say something, but usually she would just let me talk. We spoke for almost twenty minutes. She looked so beautiful. Her body was so perfect. I just wished that I was even more like her. I was sitting next to her on the couch, looking directly into her beautiful eyes while I spoke. I saw her interest in me. It was divine. I felt myself leaning in closer to her, trying to sink into her eyes. And I kept talking about her. Telling her everything I loved about her.

Finally, I said, "I just know, when it is all over, when I am just like you and everything that used to be me is gone, then I will finally be happy." I saw her tilt her head to the side. Suddenly, I felt an uncontrollable her urge to show her how much I loved her. She was the midwife who'd birthed me into the world. A second mother. How could I show her how important she was to me? I knew I was saying all the things I wanted to say, but I wanted her to feel what I feel. I didn't really think, I just acted. I leaned forward quickly and pressed my lips against hers. Her lips were softly, velvety. My own lips sort of sunk into hers. It was magical. But she did not move. I opened my eyes and saw that her eyes were open. Finally, she put her hands on my shoulders and gently, but forcefully, pushed me away.

"Young-hee! You can't do that!" she said. And suddenly I realized what I had done. I felt so ashamed of myself. I had no intention of forcing myself on her. What the Hell was I thinking? I should have kissed her cheek or hugged her. I had never had erotic thoughts about her. Had I? That wasn't the kind of love I wanted to show. Now she was going to hate me. I felt my face turn red, "I know I am a celebrity of sorts, and I know that you are my fan, but there are boundaries. We need to have a talk."

"I know, I am sorry," I said quickly, "I was just so excited to see you." She nodded but looked stern.

"I know sweetheart," she said soothingly, and I felt a little bit better, "But it is more than just...just you kissing me." She looked at me as though she was trying to see if I understood. I did not.

"What do you mean?" She sighed and sat back in the couch and crossed her arms over her breasts. She didn't look annoyed, but she stared at me appraisingly. I felt uncomfortable. This had turned out terribly. I'd never felt so awful in my entire life. But finally, the tortuous silence ended and she spoke.

"Why did you say that you wanted to turn into me?" she asked cautiously.

"It's just, nothing ever goes right for me and it just...you are so perfect. You are so perfect and happy. I am just so tired of my life. I want your life," I stammered, saying things out loud I had hardly ever consciously thought about. I thought back to my tormentors: people in school, people in my neighborhood, my parents. I knew that Young-Mi didn't know any of them and would never need to. All those people had reasons to hate me, but if I could become Young-Mi, then I people would love me. And I would love me too.

"You are not me and you are never going to be me," Young-Mi said, almost coldly. Her sudden change in tone threw me off balance. I felt a sharp stab in my stomach. I looked up at her beautiful eyes but didn't see any tenderness, just determination. This was my worst fear ever! She was offended that I wanted to be like her.

"Yes, but..." I started, feeling the tears already start to fall from my eyes. She cut me off.

"There is only one Young-Mi one Earth. You are looking at her. You can't replicate me, you can't make a Young-Mi 2.0," she said. For a moment, I thought that maybe she thought I wanted to replace her! Like I was stalking her or something so I could upstage her.

"No, I don't want to replace you, I just want to honor you!" I begged. I grabbed for Young-Mi's hand to make her believe I was telling the truth, but she pulled back from me. I moved back, like she was going to strike me. She stared at me again, looking icy.

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