Several people have recently asked for the link to this blog and that got me to rereading my entries. It is interesting to go back and read how I was feeling 7 weeks in, 3 months in, or even just last week. The danger of putting all this in writing is that it is there, in black and white. I cannot say I didn't say that or waffle at all about my experiences. They are there.
I could go back and delete entries, but where is the authenticity in that? This whole blog is about my journey. I am aware that if someone sat down and read the whole thing as it is today in one sitting, it would seem that I am full of contradictions. I am not sure that is all that far from the truth.
I guess there is always the pendulum effect. I particularly notice this when it comes to my discussions about who I am attracted to, etc. And I noticed I have not updated on the changes that have occurred for me in this area.
Let me say that I think my initial aversion to lesbians and bi women came partially from my last break up. And my relationship before that. Both of these women said that they were ok with men, hated labels, etc. But one of them occasionally said in a very mean and chastising way, "You are such a man!" This was said with disgust and disdain. Then, the other one got all freaked out at the dynamic shift. She was okay with being with a guy sexually but had never been with a guy in a relationship and once I transitioned, she didn't like it much. (There was more to it than that but me being a guy was central to our parting ways).
So, with these experiences in mind, as well as my own initial fears of anything that didn't bolster my masculinity, I set out on the path certain I would not want to be with anyone other than a purely heterosexual woman.
However, a couple of months ago, I was at a neighbors game night and had the privilege of meeting a woman that I connected with instantly. We talked for hours and have stayed in touch since then. This caught me off guard because I found myself wrestling with whether or not I'd like to date her or was attracted to her. These questions brought me to really think about what is important to me in a life partner/girlfriend/spouse.
And it occurred to me that what is important is the connection. What is important is basic compatibility. I am happy to say (see last post) that I am finally secure enough in my own masculinity that I do not need or want or exclusively seek a fem straight chick to fill that space.
And, more likely than not, I will find understanding and connection with someone who has had to really think through some similar issues for themselves. I know I am attracted to the female body, the feminine energy. And as long as whomever I am with sees me as a man, understands me as a person, then I will not make the mistake of prejudging or limiting myself or her.
I will work to stop the pendulum swing from extreme to extreme and learn to be comfortable as the man in the middle. Open to the Universe and whatever it has for me.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The Gift of Travel
As I traverse this long road... from one little black box sitting inconspicuously beside the innocent word "female" to it's mirror image marked "male"... it occurs to me that this act of traveling, this journey, is a gift.
When you take a trip, you inevitably have to decide what to take with you and what you can do without. And with airlines charging more for baggage -thank you Southwest for being an exception to this metaphor- you start to think a little more carefully about those extra, just-in-case items.
The same has been true for me. I have things that I do, experiences, memories, thought patterns that come from the female box. Things that very few bio guys would ever have been allowed, by society or in some cases nature, to experience. An extreme example would be child birth. I have experienced the good and the bad of giving energy, blood, nutrients, life to another on the most basic, primal level. No cis-male* will ever be able to know that.(*a non-trans male, one who was born biologically and is psychologically male. I feel this term is more accurate than bio-male in that a man like me, on hormones is actually closer, biologically/chemically to male than female not to mention post surgical implications)
On another level there are things I learned and was allowed to embrace by society as female that I likely would have missed out on as male. For example, I learned how to distinguish my emotions and have words for them. Society often tells men and boys that aggression and anger are the only acceptable emotions... add the fact that testosterone does make the fight or flight response so immediate and drastic... and it is no wonder cis-males have a hard time with emotions.
And then there are these little things like cooking and hosting parties and like bubble baths. It took me a little while to admit, post transition that I still like a hot bubble bath, with candles and a nice glass of wine. It felt like that was "too girly" and somehow meant I wasn't actually trans. It was so scary to think about the implications of my bubble bath. [If you haven't seen the Friends episode where Chandler discovers a love of bubble baths, you must! All I need now is a battle ship to take in the tub with me.]
But seriously?!?!? The IMPLICATIONS of a bubble bath?
What in the world are we doing here people? Why do we allow that little box to tell us so much about ourselves? When did we decide that that little box got to tell us how we felt about bubble baths or flowers or football or being the President or being aggressive professionally or sexually?
Is it because it is easier? It is that it is simply easier, when the expectations don't generally clash with your essence, to just go along with them than it is to actually dig deep enough to figure out who YOU are? What YOU want? I mean you say something to yourself like, "I am a girl so that means: I like to shop, pink, to be on bottom, with a man, must be married by age ??, kids by age ??, sit with my legs crossed, be polite, etc." ?? For me, most of those things just did NOT resonate with me at all. I wanted the things on the boy list "play in the dirt, trucks, be with a woman, be the aggressor, protector, provider, sweat, muscles, etc." We use gender to explain things. And like most stereotypes they are stereotypes for a reason... because they are often or usually accurate. But why do we just take this stuff for granted? We should commit the time to ourselves to know ourselves well enough and be secure enough to depart from the stereotypes when necessary. Without fear.
And the flip side of that is that it is easier to put other people in these little boxes, rather than actually stop long enough, look deeply enough, listen hard enough to KNOW them, to know where our assumptions are inaccurate. I mean at the end of the day what are we? We are people and people are complex and complicated. We are not machines driven by binary code, hundreds of on/off switches. We cannot be reduced to flow charts.
But as George Clooney's character said in "Up in the Air"- stereotypes are efficient. Which is true. Without some type of filtering system, we would be paralyzed. You can't actually know everyone you interact with on a deep level, nor do you want to, nor do they want you too. I think we just have to be careful about not FORCING people into them or getting angry when they don't fit.
And yourself is another story. You have to be with you everyday of your life. It seems an investment in getting to know you might well be warranted. So, next time you get a haircut or pick a piece of clothing or accept or reject a date, take a good, hard look and ask yourself why you chose what you chose. Ask yourself it it is because you are "supposed to" or if it is really a reflection of you. But be warned, the worms in that can are squirmy and slippery.
I have gotten used to worm herding. And have come to realize that all this work I am doing is about being me. But that means I have to be willing to LOOK at me. And sometimes that is not fun. Sometimes it means admitting a weakness or cutting of a limb lost to gangrene. And often amputations are followed by phantom pains. But mostly I find when I let loose of the old, diseased, wounded rotten parts, something new and healthy grows in it's place or I learn to do without it... I discover I didn't need it in the first place.
Kinda like those extra socks and underwear I always pack. I mean really, when will I learn that if I have an real emergency, requiring extra underwear, there is surely a stream, sink or wal-mart around. Or, heck, if worse comes to worse I can always go commando. :)
So, I will take what I decide I need and want. I will take what is really important to me to the other side. And after a long hard day of deciding and packing and trudging along, you will find this MAN relaxing taking a nice long soak in my bubble bath, complete with candles and a good glass of wine.
When you take a trip, you inevitably have to decide what to take with you and what you can do without. And with airlines charging more for baggage -thank you Southwest for being an exception to this metaphor- you start to think a little more carefully about those extra, just-in-case items.
The same has been true for me. I have things that I do, experiences, memories, thought patterns that come from the female box. Things that very few bio guys would ever have been allowed, by society or in some cases nature, to experience. An extreme example would be child birth. I have experienced the good and the bad of giving energy, blood, nutrients, life to another on the most basic, primal level. No cis-male* will ever be able to know that.(*a non-trans male, one who was born biologically and is psychologically male. I feel this term is more accurate than bio-male in that a man like me, on hormones is actually closer, biologically/chemically to male than female not to mention post surgical implications)
On another level there are things I learned and was allowed to embrace by society as female that I likely would have missed out on as male. For example, I learned how to distinguish my emotions and have words for them. Society often tells men and boys that aggression and anger are the only acceptable emotions... add the fact that testosterone does make the fight or flight response so immediate and drastic... and it is no wonder cis-males have a hard time with emotions.
And then there are these little things like cooking and hosting parties and like bubble baths. It took me a little while to admit, post transition that I still like a hot bubble bath, with candles and a nice glass of wine. It felt like that was "too girly" and somehow meant I wasn't actually trans. It was so scary to think about the implications of my bubble bath. [If you haven't seen the Friends episode where Chandler discovers a love of bubble baths, you must! All I need now is a battle ship to take in the tub with me.]
But seriously?!?!? The IMPLICATIONS of a bubble bath?
What in the world are we doing here people? Why do we allow that little box to tell us so much about ourselves? When did we decide that that little box got to tell us how we felt about bubble baths or flowers or football or being the President or being aggressive professionally or sexually?
Is it because it is easier? It is that it is simply easier, when the expectations don't generally clash with your essence, to just go along with them than it is to actually dig deep enough to figure out who YOU are? What YOU want? I mean you say something to yourself like, "I am a girl so that means: I like to shop, pink, to be on bottom, with a man, must be married by age ??, kids by age ??, sit with my legs crossed, be polite, etc." ?? For me, most of those things just did NOT resonate with me at all. I wanted the things on the boy list "play in the dirt, trucks, be with a woman, be the aggressor, protector, provider, sweat, muscles, etc." We use gender to explain things. And like most stereotypes they are stereotypes for a reason... because they are often or usually accurate. But why do we just take this stuff for granted? We should commit the time to ourselves to know ourselves well enough and be secure enough to depart from the stereotypes when necessary. Without fear.
And the flip side of that is that it is easier to put other people in these little boxes, rather than actually stop long enough, look deeply enough, listen hard enough to KNOW them, to know where our assumptions are inaccurate. I mean at the end of the day what are we? We are people and people are complex and complicated. We are not machines driven by binary code, hundreds of on/off switches. We cannot be reduced to flow charts.
But as George Clooney's character said in "Up in the Air"- stereotypes are efficient. Which is true. Without some type of filtering system, we would be paralyzed. You can't actually know everyone you interact with on a deep level, nor do you want to, nor do they want you too. I think we just have to be careful about not FORCING people into them or getting angry when they don't fit.
And yourself is another story. You have to be with you everyday of your life. It seems an investment in getting to know you might well be warranted. So, next time you get a haircut or pick a piece of clothing or accept or reject a date, take a good, hard look and ask yourself why you chose what you chose. Ask yourself it it is because you are "supposed to" or if it is really a reflection of you. But be warned, the worms in that can are squirmy and slippery.
I have gotten used to worm herding. And have come to realize that all this work I am doing is about being me. But that means I have to be willing to LOOK at me. And sometimes that is not fun. Sometimes it means admitting a weakness or cutting of a limb lost to gangrene. And often amputations are followed by phantom pains. But mostly I find when I let loose of the old, diseased, wounded rotten parts, something new and healthy grows in it's place or I learn to do without it... I discover I didn't need it in the first place.
Kinda like those extra socks and underwear I always pack. I mean really, when will I learn that if I have an real emergency, requiring extra underwear, there is surely a stream, sink or wal-mart around. Or, heck, if worse comes to worse I can always go commando. :)
So, I will take what I decide I need and want. I will take what is really important to me to the other side. And after a long hard day of deciding and packing and trudging along, you will find this MAN relaxing taking a nice long soak in my bubble bath, complete with candles and a good glass of wine.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Think Charlie Brown
So, last night I was looking closely at myself in the mirror, monitoring changes and guess what I found? One, lone, long, wirer-y chest hair. LOL! Right on my sternum!
Reminds me of Charlie Brown's head. :) Thank goodness my hairline hasn't receded quite that much!
Reminds me of Charlie Brown's head. :) Thank goodness my hairline hasn't receded quite that much!
Thursday, January 7, 2010
What Goes Up...
What goes up, must come down. This is a basic scientific principle. The laws of nature dictate balance.
I have recently come to realize that I am a junkie. I love adrenaline, the high. I love the thrill ride of being whole-heartedly invested in something... like being so crazy in love you can't see straight, or throwing myself into school or work, or even transition. I love those moments while having sex when the whole world disappears and you are on an island with intense physical pleasure, wholly unaware of anything around you (except maybe the person that is there with you). I asked myself WHY I love these things... because in reality I can recognize that putting TOO much of yourself into something only sets up disappointment and debt. And, eventually, you must come down.
I have basically lived my life like a gambling addict. I have used my own energy and soul as chips, wagering them against the odds. So, I keep hoping for the big haul: approval/affirmation/love or better yet, escape. That is the jackpot. So, I push a stack of chips out on the table, often going all in, sometimes throwing in my watch, my rings, anything I have of value. And I let it ride. Because what if, what if THIS TIME, I win? And I would win little payouts often enough to keep me coming back. And I keep coming back and coming back until I am totally broke, broken and in debt.
So, understanding that the reality is that I am so much more likely to be disappointed and disillusioned, why do I keep going back? What am I wanting? Why is the high SO important that I will risk so much for it? I have come to realize that for me, it was the escape. That moment when the world stands still and something, anything, is loud enough to drown out my own pain and fear. And then I realized that all those years of trying to be someone I wasn't, telling myself to sit down, shut up, be still... the pain of being invisible was largely what I was trying to escape.
So, now that pain is easing but I still have the habit of thrill seeking. According to my therapist, I need to mourn the loss of that top edge of the high. I will miss that feeling that comes with detaching... the climb... the apex. But, I will not miss the terror of plummeting toward rock bottom, aware of impending impact. And I certainly will not miss the pain of splatting at the bottom. This pain at the end was all part of a sad cycle. Somewhere along the way I picked up this idea that pain is the price that must be paid. "No pain, no gain." "Pain is weakness leaving the body." So on and so forth.
But I now realize that I can CHOOSE to be still, and stable, and safe and avoid bringing pain on myself. I have realized that I can and do deserve to be happy and don't have to risk it all in the process. Self care.
I used to think that going gung ho was indicative of courage. Now, I am learning it takes far more courage to live in the moment, to sit still, to FEEL. It takes more courage to look inside yourself and poke around and to love yourself no matter what you find in there.
That is what I am working on now. I'll still take risks and embrace adventure... but maybe I'll just take 20 bucks to the casino and play for fun. And walk out with my emotional, spiritual and energetic savings account in tact.
It's my own personal bail out plan. :)
I have recently come to realize that I am a junkie. I love adrenaline, the high. I love the thrill ride of being whole-heartedly invested in something... like being so crazy in love you can't see straight, or throwing myself into school or work, or even transition. I love those moments while having sex when the whole world disappears and you are on an island with intense physical pleasure, wholly unaware of anything around you (except maybe the person that is there with you). I asked myself WHY I love these things... because in reality I can recognize that putting TOO much of yourself into something only sets up disappointment and debt. And, eventually, you must come down.
I have basically lived my life like a gambling addict. I have used my own energy and soul as chips, wagering them against the odds. So, I keep hoping for the big haul: approval/affirmation/love or better yet, escape. That is the jackpot. So, I push a stack of chips out on the table, often going all in, sometimes throwing in my watch, my rings, anything I have of value. And I let it ride. Because what if, what if THIS TIME, I win? And I would win little payouts often enough to keep me coming back. And I keep coming back and coming back until I am totally broke, broken and in debt.
So, understanding that the reality is that I am so much more likely to be disappointed and disillusioned, why do I keep going back? What am I wanting? Why is the high SO important that I will risk so much for it? I have come to realize that for me, it was the escape. That moment when the world stands still and something, anything, is loud enough to drown out my own pain and fear. And then I realized that all those years of trying to be someone I wasn't, telling myself to sit down, shut up, be still... the pain of being invisible was largely what I was trying to escape.
So, now that pain is easing but I still have the habit of thrill seeking. According to my therapist, I need to mourn the loss of that top edge of the high. I will miss that feeling that comes with detaching... the climb... the apex. But, I will not miss the terror of plummeting toward rock bottom, aware of impending impact. And I certainly will not miss the pain of splatting at the bottom. This pain at the end was all part of a sad cycle. Somewhere along the way I picked up this idea that pain is the price that must be paid. "No pain, no gain." "Pain is weakness leaving the body." So on and so forth.
But I now realize that I can CHOOSE to be still, and stable, and safe and avoid bringing pain on myself. I have realized that I can and do deserve to be happy and don't have to risk it all in the process. Self care.
I used to think that going gung ho was indicative of courage. Now, I am learning it takes far more courage to live in the moment, to sit still, to FEEL. It takes more courage to look inside yourself and poke around and to love yourself no matter what you find in there.
That is what I am working on now. I'll still take risks and embrace adventure... but maybe I'll just take 20 bucks to the casino and play for fun. And walk out with my emotional, spiritual and energetic savings account in tact.
It's my own personal bail out plan. :)
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