Life is a Journey - Make sure you get the right roadmap to the universe

I'm quite sure I picked up the wrong one on my way out the door....

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Standing on the Edge of Two Genders

I seem to have entered what I term as the "Androgynous Zone".  I am not sure how I arrived here, but here I stand.  I am perched on a precipice that allows me to look down either side of the chasm into the male or female worlds.  I am balanced at this point or am I?  My perceptions of this realm I believe I am in are challenged by the world around me.

I recently showed my picture on my license to someone who remarked, "How do you get away with using that picture of you?  It looks nothing like you"

A friend I had not seen in a year remarked how soft my skin has become and how translucent it now seems to be.

I look in the mirror and I see the same person I have always seen.  Someone takes a picture of me in my guy mode and I freak out with what stares back to me in photos.  I race to look at my old pictures and they are not the same person.

A walk on the street yields many numbers of low breathy remarks wondering what box I exist in.

I cannot understand the changes I have seen.  I have been told my face is more feminine and softer, yet I am not on Estrogen of any form.  Pictures tell a different story and show a different face.

I have been taking what would be considered to be a minimal amount of dutasteride... 0.5 mg.  Enough in the vast majority of biological males to only serve to help lessen hair loss but with only a fraction of a percent of those taking it  having the effects which I am seeing.

Why is it that my weight has gone up and my waist size has gone down?  Why am I seeing my breast size slowly but insidiously growing?  It is not gynecomastia but have been told now by several that they are real breasts.  Where did this added weight on my bottom come from I wonder.

I'm starting to wonder if I really am on the edge of two worlds or if I have found myself stumbling into the feminine realm without consciousness of having done so.  I don't know anymore.  My perception is perhaps skewed.  The person who stares back at me in the mirror is not the same person in the pictures.  I seem often to not be the driver of my own bus in this life, but simply a passenger on it.  When I define where my bus is on the map of eternity, I am told that I am somewhere else entirely.

I'm not sure anymore.  I feel like a switch has been tripped and I am on a ride of my own life.  The only thing I can say is that the person who stares up at me from deep below my perch in that chasm of maleness never did once smile truthfully in his entire life.  The woman who reaches out from below me on the other side always leaves a smile on my face as I look back at her.

The intersection of two genders is a vastly lonely and tremendously difficult place to be.  I will stay for as long as it takes, for the love who brought me to this point and who enabled me to climb is the sole reason why I am here at all.

And the view is truly awe inspiring, wondrous and amazing....

Memories....

Remembering our friend Stephanie Forbes, whose life was cut short all too short in an instant.  Her stress from being outed by everyone and estranged by all in her family left her feeling as if those who loved her only did so conditionally.  It left her without a job and a family and it left her very, very alone.  I miss her very much but take heart that she had made some wonderful friends in the transgender community.  She especially said that she looked towards my spouse and to me with great respect, admiration and love for the hope that we brought to her.  Her life will live on through our wonderful memories of times shared together both virtually and when we met.  Her profile and pictures live on and it feels like only yesterday that we said our last goodbyes.

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000422449048

Monday, June 13, 2011

Self Awareness

Having just turned 46 years old, one would think that one would have, by this point, a clear understanding of who their identity is as a person.  One would think....

When one has lived a lifetime subjugated under a tyrannical familial rule, one can suppress and nearly lose one's own sense of self identity, substituting it instead for one which is accepted, expected and for which others praise.  But... this comes at a cost.  The price is one's own soul and their very sense of being.   Living a life to others expectations brings hidden costs of anxieties and self worthlessness.  We exist to live our lives but fail to live truly.  One walks through life in the motions but feels as if they are a ghost... separated inside and with an ache that only they can see.  The facade of the person they create pleases everyone else and so no-one suspects the hurt they bear deep within their own soul.  The longer they continue to live the facade, the more it becomes who they are perceived to be and the more one believes it themselves.

Those walls and the facade created have all come crashing down as I have come to embrace who I truly am inside.  It is a person whose life would have had the ability to be much earlier on had it not been for the fear I held inside.  It was fear of a father who had the ability to subjugate us to his will through the use of anger, violence and force.  It was the fear of having seen the pain inflicted upon my mother.  It was the fear of seeing my sister challenged and her escape from the family.  My walls came down when I finally moved away from my family and could, for once, finally see what should have been and what needed to be if I were to continue living on this planet.  I would no longer feel that I were the walking dead... walking in the pre-determined footsteps laid out by family in their expectation that I would walk them happily unquestioned.

But how does one know that the life they have lived to this point was a facade of their very spirit and sense of self?  Therapy was helpful in pulling those pieces together and the conclusions drawn.  But it was more my own doing and allowing myself to assemble the pieces of the puzzle of my life which were there in front of me always and to see the finished work for what it truly was.  It was and still is more than frightening to realize that this is me.  This is my life.  This is who I really am.  I ask myself, why and think that this might happen to someone else... not to me....  It was too far fetched to be me.... wasn't it?

Time and time again I tried to deny it and find ways to refute it.  Looking for other reasons which could be the reason or cause and each time I tried to follow the logic, it shattered into a million tiny pieces.  The medical background I obtained regarding my physiology confirmed it for me and was a turning moment in my life.  Even that vital piece had been hidden from me for 45 years until I stumbled upon it.   I wanted to have this irrefutable proof and these facts and yet also, at the same time, now that I knew, I wished I never did.    The pieces are now all there.  The puzzle only assembles in one way and the finished picture stares back at me in the mirror each time I see her in the mirror looking back at me.

Everyone else sees it as well.  They see how natural and comfortable she is when she is out.  She is told that she acts, talks, emotes and behaves as a natural woman around and with others.   She doesn't realize she was ever born a man when she is able to be herself.   ....and it all feels just... right....

And then a day later, she is back in her male persona and the anxiety is back.  She finds herself crying inside and, when alone, in silent tears where no one can see.  She is doing this to preserve what her male counterpart has created.  It is the world and the life constructed and still, to his loving wife, needed.  It tears her apart inside for she knows who she is truly but must somehow, still full knowing, play an acting role as someone who is finding it more and more difficult to play.

The reasons for all of the anxiety and the panic attacks from years earlier starting in Junior High School and beyond are all vividly clear now.  They are being relived now in new ways and those moments are coming back as if they were yesterday but with an understanding now of "why".   On Saturday, I spent the day and evening out as my female self and had a wonderful day meeting up with friends, sharing dinner, shopping and some evening fun playing pool and out dancing.  On Sunday I reverted back to my male mode.

I happened to be out for a walk and popped in to a local resort hotel to use the bathroom.  A wedding reception was going on in the main ballroom as I stepped into the men's room.  As has been the case all my life, I passed by the urinals and took a stall.  Clarity came over me as I realized why I did this and never felt comfortable with the urinals.  It was all too clear but I had shrugged it off as shyness.  Several young men from the wedding party entered the bathroom and I listened intently to the nature of the conversation they had with each other.  Having been in women's rooms and having had the opportunity to listen to and chat with the women there, I realized how comfortable I was there and how wrong things were for me in the men's room here.  I immediately had a panic attack and came close in the silence of the walls surrounding me, to tears.  I was immediately back in high school and in the same situation in the bathrooms then as I was now.  Only I had the perspective of years and wisdom and perspective to put it all together now.  I knew why I had had these decades of tortuous anxiety and what was wrong.  Everything was wrong.  It wasn't just this event.  It was a lifetime of events and this was yet another reminder.... another trigger.  I was in the wrong place and playing a person who I never was.  It was a conclusion I had failed too.... no..... never wanted to admit to myself back then.  It was a conclusion that the evidence of a lifetime gave clarity to now.

I am now self aware of who I am and this is not a game.  This is a fight for my own life.  It is a fight to try to assume the identity I am but it is a fight to not do so as well.  For doing so will put me at ease from this pain I feel every moment of every day and in my dreams at night.  But in allowing myself to be, I will destroy those who mean the most to me.

I never thought I would say this but I don't know how to live this life anymore.  I wished I could have had the knowledge, the wisdom and the sight to see this all much earlier.  I can not tell you how much pain I have harbored deep inside me all these years. It is the support of my wonderful spouse who makes it possible for me to realize who I am and without her, I would likely not be where I am today.  I do pray for the strength and for her help to be able to find my path of contentment in this life.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Be-All 2011

Joanne and I just returned back fro Be-All in Chicago. It was our second year at this event and, as such, provided us with a perspective that was not apparent from our first time there.

If one has not been to the Be-All conference, it is an opportunity to meet and relate to other transgender gifted people and to do so in a safe and friendly environment. 85 percent of the seven floors in this large hotel were occupied by attendees and the many seminars, activities and meals were all provided on site or were off site and catered by the conference staff.

Rather than describing what we did at the conference, which could be summarized succinctly in any event, I would prefer to relate what I learned in relation to the community and to my own personal self. Having been able to experience the world as a transgender woman for another year, I had a new found perspective and level of maturity which I had not had prior. I had the ability to relate what I had learned of myself and witnessed in others during the span of that time. I saw changes both positive and negative as well as good and bad. I saw conquests and challenges overcome in some and new roadblocks introduced into the lives of others. Most importantly I saw changes in myself and relations made which helped me to solidify my own position of where I stand in the continuum of gender.

A transgender convention introduces one to a wide range of individuals who present their gender in vastly differing and unique ways both physically and mentally. One of the most unique perspectives I found was that there were many individuals who considered themselves to be women at heart but, when I spoke with them, I could only see them as men. My spouse, in almost every instance, came to the same conclusion independently as well. As a case in point, my spouse and I happened to be in the ladies' rest room when a transgender woman entered. After exchanging pleasantries, she motioned that to my spouse, while I was in the room as well, that she might need some help in the stall with undoing her dress. Of course, she did not volunteer and it was interesting as well that I was not asked... which of course would have mattered little as the context of the situation did not dictate or warrant the request made.

About a moment later, as we were continuing to prep and primp, another transgender woman entered and extolled out as she clomped into the room, that she needed to “take a **it”. I spun around and quickly glared shockingly at her and strained a response to her that perhaps she might, as a lady, consider rephrasing. Her response was rephrased in another similarly crass way. Interestingly, in conversing with this individual, I found that she only crossdressed for these sorts of events and that when she did, she seemed to play more of a caricature of a woman than that of a natal woman. Her manner of dress was more frilly and over the top than that of any woman I would ever see on the street, or at least on any street of good repute. For her, I could see that it was more of a hobby than as a need. Her expressing was more in line with that of what images of women are often portrayed as within the media but not as they are in reality. She dressed as a woman but spoke as a man... thought as a man... and presented as a man... in a dress. I saw many who fit this realm, claimed to be women at heart, but showed no sign of that ever to me. I could not have a discussion as women would have with other women on topics which women might speak of but topical level issues which the typical man would converse about were fair game instead.

On the other end of the spectrum, I met transwomen who purported to be women as well but who affirmed their femininity ranking by the hormones planned and the surgery and steps taken to coalesce their feminity. Apparently, these women seem to feel that those who have the courage to move forward to “become” women through these actions and steps are somehow more of a woman than those who do not. These are the “trannier than thou” quorum of women, who espouse their femininity and play down those who have not taken the same or as many steps as themselves.

I happened to run into a transwoman at the convention who I had met the previous September and who I had known back before she had ever taken a step out of her house for the first time as a female. Back then, I was the person she looked up to. She saw me as a beacon and positive force of strength and light in her own darkness. Through numerous conversations and chats online and back and forth messaging, I was able to help her find a direction and a path forward. She looked up to me and said so on many occasions that I was a woman at heart from the inside and a person who had wisdom and perspectives grounded in reality.

At the conference, I ran into her again and, this time, the interaction was totally surprising. She had been on hormones for nearly a year and was living full time as a woman, presenting as such at work as well. She knew I was continuing to live only part time as a woman and not on hormones. She understood that I was married to a wonderful spouse who accepted my femininity but also wished as well to still have the guise of the man she marred still in place to at least some degree. She knew I was working to hold all aspects of my life together, being compassionate and sensitive to the ones around me who needed time to understand and to transition with me. She knew all of these things....

      When I met her that evening, her second question to me after asking how I was doing was simply, “So when are you going to be starting hormones?”. I answered her in the same way as I had in times before that I was working within the parameters of the people who mean the most to me and who I was sensitive to.

Later that evening, she bluntly claimed to my spouse, Joanne, that I was clearly a cross-dresser... not a woman at heart but a casual guy-in-a-dress type cross dresser.  This happened while my spouse was standing in the buffet line and gesturing to me saying, "Christen?  She's over there" when the retort came loud enough for others to hear, “You know”, she said to my spouse, “She's a HE”. Joanne was clearly disturbed by her claims,  as she denounced my persona as a woman inside and instead making the claim which so many non-transgender individuals make of those transgender and basing my being entirely on the physicality that I had male sexual organs.  It was a rude, arrogant and blasphemous comment to make and one which upset both her and me when I later heard it. In her mind, I was not truly transgender for I had not taken the steps which apparently need to be demonstrated that would signify that I was truly a woman. Steps such as hormones and breast augmentation and surgeries which would justify this fact.

My spouse, Joanne retorted quickly to the public denigration by extolling loudly and proudly that I was truly a transgender female and rebuked her with “Christen is a woman.   She is transgender and a woman inside” and left the conversation at that.

This same person began to make claims about how her scheduled surgery was going to provide much better results than anyone else's and how much more money hers was costing but still being covered by her insurance plan at work.

What I have just related was only one example of the many I witnessed and endured at the convention. It was the “trannier than thou” mentality and the false justification that those who live part time as women are not women at heart or strong enough to become the women they see themselves as inside. Interestingly, the “becoming the woman you see yourself as inside mantra” which is touted constantly creates levels of tension for those who really and truly are women at heart but who, as compassionate, empathetic and selfless women, choose to consider all those in their families around them ahead of their own needs. It is a strong rift, but it seems to help those who have made the leap to womanhood, and those who have made that choice and lost much of their families and former lives justify their decisions in moving forward by denigrating those who do not follow in their footsteps. Apparently, my status as a woman and being referred to as “she” rather than as a “he” in her mind, and, from what I have seen now more clearly in others, is contingent upon my taking feminization steps such as hormones and augmentation surgery to “become” the woman.

Let me state for the record that from what I have seen, those who are following this mantra that one becomes the woman through the actions and augmentations they take to adjust their bodies seem, in my mind at least, to be the least like women overall. One is either born knowing they are women or not.  One does not become a woman through rearrangement of the body.  Yes, this may be the case physically but it is often not the case mentally.  The mindset of the true transgender woman acts, behaves and emotes as female irregardless of whether they have an alignment with the female anatomy or not.  Many I met seemed egotistical and full of type- “A” male traits. The ones who are holding back in the sidelines and are trying to be empathetic to their family's and loved ones needs and lives seem often to be the more feminine and truly transgender in the relation to the natal woman.  Again, this is what I have seen and observed to this point.

In another example, while I was sitting in a local restaurant, a former acquaintance I had known prior to her transitioning stopped by the table to say hello. After a brief chat, I mentioned to her that I saw her profile on facebook and that we did not seem to be friends on there. One of my good friends at the table was already friends with her there and on FaceBook and so I asked her if she would not mind if I friended her on there. Her response to me was that she would prefer if I did not friend her on FaceBook as she had many non-trans friends on her facebook page who did not know of her status. That was a reason that seemed to hold little water as what could possibly be the differences brought into the fold for a non-op versus post-op transexual that would differ?  Interestingly, this same person who would not allow me to friend her on FaceBook WOULD friend someone who was considered post-op transexual.  In fact, she spoke to another individual who was post-op and on her FaceBook friends list just prior to my asking her this question.  It would appear that my status as a friend seems hinged on whether or not I was post-op or not. Interestingly, this behavior is more common than I had ever first thought so I was not averse to it being the negative response that it was.

Another interesting incident occurred 3 days before we were to depart for Be-ALL. I received an email from the Be-All staff noting a change in one of the off-site excursions scheduled. Joanne and I had signed up for an evening trip to a local nightclub which occurs each year on one particular night of the event. The email I received contained a notice indicating that the club which the off site was tor be held at required a valid picture id which matched our gender presentation. The staff apologized for this last minute announcement and offered instead to continue with the initial offering without changing the venue initially assigned. In effect, this singled out the evening events to only those who were either post-op or who had obtained in some other way, the proper identification necessary to attend. To the event's credit, they did offer an ON-site event for those who would be unable to attend the off-site one.

Apparently the issues associated with picture id's matching gender presentation is a fairly recent change which has been instituted by a number of clubs in the Chicago area. Although it is an absoloute reason, the ideology appears to be rooted in the GLB community as well as with some of the hetero clubs which have taken up issue with the Transgender community and utilized this as a wedge point to discriminate. It was an unfortunate set of events but my major complaint was that the event coordinators did not consider this problem earlier and make the changes necessary to relocate the off-site event to a venue which would accept us all regardless of identification.

In several other situations, I ran across individuals who showed autogynephylic attitudes in their femininity.  These women found great pride in displaying their bodies and in the work performed to enhance their physical femininity.  The details were not just verbal, but in many cases, I had thrust upon me, photo album upon photo album of pictures of breasts and vagina's, in graphic detail.  I am sorry, and maybe it is simply just me, but even post-op, my body is a personal thing and I would not find interest or satisfaction in publishing myself as an object and a trophy attained.  To me, my body is a personal aspect of who I am and I would never impose to share it in such graphic detail without being asked first.  I can understand the pride that many have but the excitement by these individuals borders on self-lust and self-aggrandizement.   Be it known that I simply observe and will not judge.  I leave these thoughts for the reader to make their own assessments.

I learned a lot at this conference for sure.  I saw that many of those I looked up to at prior events were themselves guilty of ignorance, moral failures and callousness.  Some who had looked up to me now snubbed their nose downward in a derogatory fashion at my perceived inability to move forward.  To some it seemed that I stayed where I was because I was not truly transgender but merely a cross dresser.  I learned something about myself as well.  I chose to spend much of my time at the conference with a friends who truly meant something to me and to whom they valued my friendship for who I am inside.  I spent much of my time out and in the greater world and doing all the things I would be doing if I were living full time.  I found myself comfortable and at home within myself and I reveled in the fact that I did not have to feel like I was competing in some sort of dress up competition.  Although it may appear to many that I play up the Vanna White beauty queen role, I am in fact most comfortable to just be able to live my life as a simple me.  I'm learning who I am, and coming to terms with what it means to be a woman.  I thought I knew before but I am really beginning to just come to understand it now.  And the realization of who and what I am scares me more now than ever before.  I feel like I have boarded a plane that has backed away from the gate.  Please pray that I will find a way to be able to hold it all together on this journey.