A Trans Story - Hatred and Bigotry

A Trans Story – Hatred and Bigotry

You know I have never really understood hatred and bigotry directed toward people you don’t understand. I just don’t know what makes some people so arrogant that they believe they are better, more perfect, or just in the right. I mean I have been and still am a pretty arrogant person, lol – but I have never thought anyone was less than myself just because I either don’t agree with them, or don’t understand them. And I find it even more mystifying that in the 21^st century we seem to be retreating backward deeper and deeper into that hatred and bigotry.

This chain of thought started because I saw a post where people were complaining about the Students walking out on Pence, saying they were being disrespectful, or childish and stating they had no right to do that. Ofcourse I had to hop on that chain praising the students. For one I thought they showed their opposition in a very mature way. They made a point without resorting to mindless violence. Anyway as usual I was subjected to right wing bigotry about the LGBT community. I tried to tell the person that they would have to adapt as soon a new generation would be making the decisions for this country, namely the generation these people were currently disparaging. This older person declined to believe that, stating we will see, and my response was what is there to see about – it’s a fact of life, new generations arise with new ideas. Anyway he then decided to mention about snowflakes being in control and tossing the LGBT off of roofs. I mean really, are we resorting to that kind of thing now?

Granted there are times when I find it almost amusing that some people have no other recourse but to resort to violent threats when dealing with someone they do not accept, or when facing beliefs they cannot ever understand, because of their closed minds. And I will also admit that my responses are sometimes not tailored towards calming the situation, more like I provide them with a verbal bitch slap for what I see as their stupidity. This might not be the best approach and it usually takes me a few additional comments to reign that behavior in. Despite my initial response I don’t view these people as less than me, I don’t hate them, I don’t try to take away their rights despite their clinging to ideas best left in the past, beliefs from a bygone era they are eager to force on all the rest of us, because they cannot handle the world of change. That they cant handle change is their problem, and their bag to carry. I don’t want to force change upon them. I am happy to let them live in their little bubble of forgotten beliefs, if they would just let me and mine live my life.

And its not just toward the LGBT, but they target anyone not of the same beliefs as themselves. And ofcourse the majority of whom I speak about are right wing, conservative Christians – but they actually don’t even deserve the term Christians. I know that not all Christians are so full of hate, but so many of them are. They detest the LGBT, they detest Muslims, don’t like Jewish, or people with any other religious affiliation. Its completely ridiculous and incomprehensible to me. Why do they want everyone to be the same? Why do they feel this drive to make everyone follow their own narrow beliefs? And why do they resort to bullying tactics to get their way? Well that last one I know the answer to, its because they lack imagination and empathy and so all they know is bullying.

Oh I know that many Christians will claim violence from other parties etc, etc, and yes I do agree every sect of people results in fanatics. Almost every religion has radical extremists, but the problem is The right wing conservative Christians refuse to admit that they are also radical extremists. That is what you call it when you attempt to change peoples beliefs by force, or by denying them the same rights they enjoy. So I have to ask – when will this country, and the human race learn from the mistakes made throughout history. They continually make them over and over and over again.

And another thing, why is it now a problem for people to object to the leaders? This country was born in rebellion, its part of its character to disagree with those in charge. But when a Republican is the President, God Forbid any of us object.

There are many times when I like a good fight. Its inside me to fight back against people trying to force their beliefs upon me, or deny me rights. And its within me to fight back against bigotry and hatred. But there are also times when I am just so tired of it. I am tired of the stupidity. I am tired of right wing conservatives trying to make us all Christian, straight, cis Sheep. There is far more to the world than their narrow beliefs, but they insist upon trying to force that upon the world. And I am getting tired of it. I am tired of waking up every morning and seeing some other stupid bill has been passed by one house or another, another bill that removes rights from the LGBT or removes rights from non Christians. It is beyond foolish for this to be going on, particularly in this century. And I just wonder how much fight I have left in me, but then I see, what I think is, a stupid remark by a conservative and the fight wakes right back up. But a big part of my attitude is just out and out pride. I cannot let someone else win, particularly when I feel they are being bigoted and hateful. I am driven to prevent them from winning.

But still I just don’t understand. I don’t know why these people want us to be like everyone else. It would be such a boring world if we were all the same. Why do they object so much to what is different and unique? Being different and unique is a wonderful thing. The world needs more diversity, but more than that it needs acceptance of diversity. I accept backward beliefs. I completely accept that everyones thoughts and beliefs are equally valid, even if I don’t agree with them. What they believe is right for them and I am just fine with that, but why can’t they feel the same toward me. Why cant they accept that what I believe and what I am doing is right for me. Why do they have to object, make life harder and just be downright hateful? We are no harm to them. Our values and beliefs, our differences, what makes us unique harm them not at all. We take nothing away from them. Marriage equality does them no harm. My transition affects them not at all. People following true Islam cause them no harm, so why do they feel the need to bully us and try to force us to be just like them.

Radicals on every side would be so much better off if they would just take a moment, stop and realise that it is our differences that make us all wonderful.

A Trans story - Attractiveness

A Trans Story – Attractiveness.

 

Ok this may seem like I am going a wee bit off topic, but since its my topic I guess its allowed, lol. But I was wondering – what makes someone attractive? I mean physically attractive. Oh I know that its all about each to their own, but lets look at it from a point of view of self.

Growing up I never considered myself to be all that attractive, average at best, perhaps even homely. I wasn’t big, or skinny, mostly average build and size. I wasn’t brilliant at any kind of sporting event, or much of anything else for that matter. In no way did I stand out at all. And it seemed that they girls opinions of me bore out my own opinion – that there was nothing much physically attractive to myself. It took a number of years for me to have what I considered a real girlfriend and to be honest I still don’t know if she found me attractive.

I am not sure how much of my own self-worth and opinion were connected to my gender dysphoria, but whenever I looked in the mirror I was not impressed with what I saw, in fact I didn’t like it and I’m not just talking about the male aspects, but the overall package, physically did not appear good looking to my eyes at all.

The other issue was all the girls seemed to like the bad boys, that’s not changed too much I guess, but when I was young, they were absolutely into bad boys. I was always amazed at how girls were attracted to boys that would not treat them right. Oh I tried that approach, the whole treat them mean, keep them keen idea, and I was just terrible at it, lol. I could never bring myself to treat them mean, and that made me think of myself as a complete softy.

Despite my sunny disposition I did spend some time feeling sorry for myself in my youth, but I guess who doesn’t.

Anyway I did have a girlfriend when I was around 12 or so, it was definitely a childish thing, but that’s ok, cause I was very much a child, lol. The following year though, was when I actually asked someone to date me, well it was done through a friend, but nevertheless I was successful. But still I had no real idea how she felt about me.

I know that I was head over heels for her. I thought she was absolutely gorgeous – hell even my Dad was impressed when he saw her. But in what was to become a bit of a trend she did cheat on me and broke my heart several times. There then followed another couple of girlfriends who did the same thing and I just could not tell if they found me attractive at all, or if it was more like pity dating.

It was not for a couple of years before I met someone that I was actually sure about. What made me sure you might ask. Well we sort of fell in together. It was not planned, I didn’t ask, she didn’t ask, it was just one of those things. To be completely honest I cannot remember how it happened. But I was visiting another town maybe about a half hour away, or more by bus. I had a couple of friends over there and she happened to be one of their friends, and somehow we just ended up dating. Once again I fell head over heels, but atleast this time I felt sure she found me attractive. The only thing I couldn’t understand was why. I still couldn’t see any physically attractive qualities in myself.

Over the years there were a couple of others that I felt sure about. One at College and I was the one that screwed that up, but I was good at messing up by then, lol. The other two were ones I met at the Pub and to my shame I was the one that never treated them very good, but I knew they were attracted to me. Problem was, and something I am not proud of, is that I was not particularly attracted to them, but I continued to have one night stands with them, mostly because I felt they were a kind of safe bet. I was not very proud of many of my actions when I was 18. I spent too many weekends getting drunk and not treating those girls nicely. I do hope they have found happiness now. I do wish I knew for sure though, but I probably wont ever find out. But still I had no idea what drew them to me.

I could understand what drew other girls, atleast the ones I was friends with, because I did and still do make a pretty good friend. I am always there for friends, supporting them in whatever way I can and always willing to listen and talk. So I knew that I made a good friend and growing up I had many female friends, most of my friends were girls. But the few who became more than friends, I just could not understand what drew them to me. I often felt out of their league, not good enough and that I could not keep up with them.

Those feelings never really went away, until recently. Even when I turned 26, met my future wife and all I still have very low self-worth and still thought of myself as quite unattractive. Once again I could not quite fathom what was drawing this woman to me. What did she find attractive about me? It was really quite incomprehensible to me. Oh to be sure I could play it off like ofcourse she was into me, who wouldn’t be, I was awesome – but that was all an act. All my brashness over the years has always been an act, cause I have never ever figured out what makes attractive. And I still mean physically, cause once you get to know me and see that I am a pretty decent person, or that I have become one through all my mistakes, well to some that decency is attractive. But physically, what makes someone good looking? And why could I never see any of that in myself.

Like I said it wasn’t until recently that I got rid of those feelings, and that’s when I started to wonder if my lack of self-worth, my thought that I was unattractive was tied to my dysphoria.

It actually wasn’t until the hormones started to make some changes that I actually started to like what I was seeing in the mirror. Once I had more definition to my shape and had some fat redistribution I could find some appealing aspects to my physical appearance.

It came as some surprise to be honest. I was getting ready one morning. The usual, picking out a pair of skinny jeans, cut top and doing my make up. When I was done, I looked in the mirror to make sure I hadn’t messed up and low and behold I was almost stunned by the reflection that looked back. I took another look and for the very first time I actually liked what I was seeing. I was like dang, I didn’t know you were under there.

Anyway this was just a bit of a random thought that I was having and I was interested in taking it further. I found it interesting that my perception of my own attractiveness was tied so tightly with my self-worth, which was also tied directly to my gender dysphoria. That morning in the mirror it was almost like I was seeing myself for the first time in my life. And to an extent I was. I was seeing the real me. The one who had been buried all those years, hidden away from the world and ashamed to come out.

 And I guess one thing I have discovered. You can only be pleased with your own appearance, when you are finally comfortable with who you are as a person. When you try to hide who you are, you might not ever like what you see, perhaps all you see is the deception.

A Trans Story - Part 6

A Trans Story – Part 6

 

So where are we now. I have covered most of my back story, atleast what I remember of it anyways, plus my marriage. So where to go next. I think it will be with me accepting myself.

Accepting myself as Trans was particularly difficult for me. No one really knew and I figured it would be a huge surprise to everyone, and it was to quite a few, but to some not at all.

Every time I thought about it, wished for it and dreamed of it, I also saw the difficulty it would create. No one at work knew my secret and after 12 years in the one place I was fairly well known there. There would be difficulty with my family and my friends. There was only really one person who knew and that was my wife, although she was maybe not even aware how strong my dysphoria really was. I had only spoken about it a couple of times over the years.

I pretty much covered the time I accepted myself, so I wont bore you with going over that again. As you know, I finally accepted myself around August of 2015, atleast enough to go and see a therapist, but my true acceptance was October when I started on Hormones.

I cannot adequately describe how I felt when I first started Hormones. It was an illuminating moment for me. Finally I was at the beginning of a path that could lead me to what I had always desired and longed for. I was scared and excited. My fear came from thinking of the changes that would happen to my body and how long I would be able to disguise them. And my excitement came from those changes too. It was really interesting to feel so much excitement, fear, wonder and happiness all at once.

After deciding that Hormones were right for me it took me a week or so to schedule an appointment. I took a long lunch from work and went to see the Doctor and got the prescription quite easily. I really wanted to pick them up immediately, but I had to go back to work, and my local pharmacy was a good half hour away. So I had to wait until after work to pick up my Meds.

That afternoon at work was one of the longest of my life. No one knew and I could hardly concentrate on my job. All I could think about was that my journey was about to begin. I was going to discover who I truly was. I do remember I was almost giddy with excitement that afternoon and it was so difficult to keep my mouth shut. I so longed to tell my friends, but I still wanted to keep it quiet for just a bit longer.

Needless to say I picked up my meds as soon as I got off work. The drive home was torturous and so many idiots were between me and my medications. Seemingly more idiots than normal. But I got there. Picking them up was an experience to be sure. When you are Male and pick up Spironolactone, progesterone and Estradiol its fairly safe to assume that the person filling the prescription will know what they are for. And I did get the usual questions, like do you want to speak to a pharmacist, but it was asked awkwardly this time. As always I said no. There was no reason to, I knew what I wanted.

So I get home, and my excitement is bubbling over. My prescription was to take one of each pill, twice a day, morning and night. I suppose I could have waited to start in the morning, but no that was impossible. There was no way at all that those pills were going to sit there all night, without me taking my first dose.

My heart raced, I was short of breath as I looked at the tiny pill that was going to change my life. I was surprised by how small the Estradiol was, and the low dose that I was getting. I had such high hopes for it, and it was so small, surely this amount would do nothing for me, but I had to trust that my Doctor knew what he was doing and the dose would be right. I took the pills and it was like my life changed in that one instant. I swear I could almost feel them starting to work. Oh I know it was my imagination, but it felt good. I was so beyond excited to finally have feminine hormones within me, but still I was worried. I was concerned the dose was not right. I was worried about the adverse effects that could happen, and I was worried about the results. Like I said, I had high hopes. I knew what I wanted, but feared the results would be so much less than what I really longed for. How little I knew back then.

My first week flew by with me constantly hoping for results. By now you will be aware that I am rather impatient, lol, and this was no different. I really longed for instant results. That’s not ever going to happen ofcourse, but inside I can still hope. My impatience made it really tempting to take more than the recommended doses. But I had read up enough, and had enough common sense to know that was a bad idea and that these changes need to occur slowly – a very difficult situation for me.

And the allergic reaction which slowed things down made that first few weeks so much worse. Luckily we found out quickly enough that it was the progesterone, but it slowed things down more than I wanted, particularly since I didn’t want anything slowed down at all, lol. Recently some have suggested that it wasn’t the progesterone itself, but actually some other ingredient in the medication that I was allergic to. While that is possible, I tend to discount it, as I have never had an allergic reaction to any medication in my entire life, nor have I ever suffered from any side effects. So I personally don’t think it was another ingredient and perhaps think it was my body telling me I didn’t need it. Some would disagree I am sure, as there are proponents to Progesterone out there. I have spoken to a few that are in favour of it. But my own research indicated that they jury was still undecided on the benefits of it, with some saying it enhanced breast growth and others saying it made no difference at all. And since I am already taking more medication than I ever have, I see no reason to add another pill into the mix without there being a verified benefit.

Once I got back on track with my Meds I was beyond eager to take more, but once again I had enough common sense not to do that. One thing you really want to do in this situation is be very careful with your medications. I cannot stress this enough. You cannot take more than prescribed and you Must continue your check ups with your doctor. It is essential to spot any possible problem that might occur. But I continued to take one of each pill morning and night, waiting and waiting for some changes to happen.

It seemed, then, to take forever. But a couple of months after starting full time hormones I felt my first change. It was tenderness in my chest. The first time I noticed it was when I rolled over in the early hours of the morning, to lay on my front and I felt a dull ache in my chest and I knew that growth was beginning. I cannot tell you how my heart soared to feel that discomfort. Some might find it odd, that discomfort can bring me happiness, but for me it was a physical sign that something was finally happening. And I can say, more than a year later, my outlook has not changed at all. I still love the tenderness I sometimes feel in my breasts, cause it means more changes. And there are other discomforts that I have cherished. I loved my increased emotion, even though it took me time to learn to control it, I still loved it. I loved the occasional hot flash that I have gotten and anything else that it means to be a woman is cherished by me. Some cis gender women think I am not in my right mind, particularly when I mention that I am sad I will never experience a period. They look at me as if I am nuts and then tell me I am lucky. Actually no I am not. That missing experience is something else that sets me apart. Its something I will never feel and that lack will always make me feel like an “Other” It is just another sign that I was born weird, broken, or just messed up. Another sign that, in my mind, I will never be a full and complete woman. Despite my happiness and joy on this new path, I still carry that sadness with me. And all the aspects of womanhood that I missed out on, and will never get to experience add to that feeling and reinforce that I am something different. Oh how I would love to experience a period, and other aspects of womanhood that are denied me.

Still I am learning to deal with what is missing. I am learning to get by and accept that I am different for a reason. What that reason might be is beyond me, but I know that my journey is far from over and who knows what experiences await me. I look forward to all the changes with expectation and excitement. I am eager for whatever else might come my way.

A Trans Story - Part 5

A Trans Story – Part 5

So we are at the point in my story where I have met my soon to be wife. This was a turning point in my life. I had finally found someone that allowed me and encouraged me to be myself. At that time I was still not admitting that I was Transgender, but maybe that I was a crossdresser. My wife encouraged me to express myself and without her I would not be who I am today. Some have stated that it was America, or my Wife that has made me this way, but I assure you, the only thing my wife has ever done is to love me unconditionally and to accept me for who I am.

Anyway I was 26 when I met Zandra. We found one another online and she came over to meet me. As mentioned in my Part 4 blog I did tell her a little about my inner feelings, enough for her to know that I was not your average boy. And her asking me to grow my hair was just a bonus for me. I had always wanted long, feminine hair and now I had found someone who wanted that too.

It was 2002 when we finally got married – immigration taking about a year or so, but we got it done. Ofcourse being Scottish meant I had the kilt and everything on, so I was kinda wearing a skirt, lol, although many Scottish people will get upset by this analogy, I do find it somewhat amusing.

The wedding was really cool. To meet someone who accepts you is a wonderful thing, to become their partner in life even more so, but still I felt something was missing. While I was dressed in what some cultures call a skirt, I really just wanted to have a gown on and be my feminine self. And although I had a wife who encouraged me and accepted me, it was made difficult by the fact that I still didn’t accept myself, nor did I know myself.

Relationships, physical and emotional were still confusing for me. I typically fell for someone quickly. Indeed the usual lesbian joke of Uhauling after 2 weeks, does kind of apply to me too. I have a theory on that. When two women connect, I think its either hit or miss very quickly, and I think that happens because they connect, or miss on an emotional level. For both women, their emotional levels are much the same, as is their way of thinking and perhaps that leads to a very fast, very strong connection. While for straight couples you have a woman who thinks and feels on one level and the man on a completely different one, so it takes longer to get that connection. So for me, with my feminine emotions I would connect quickly. However, that also clues me in on why none of my previous relationships lasted. The girls I used to date were all straight and looking for that connection on a male emotional level, something I could never give them. So we had a quick connection right at first, but they were still looking for the Male aspect and while physically I had that, on an emotional, mental level it was something I could never give them.

With Zandra it was much more of a balance, and she seemed to accept my more unruly emotions, lol, but still there was some confusion as I was still being moved toward that male gender role that I detested so much.

And then there is physical intimacy. Being intimate with a spouse is so much more than some tawdry one night stand, there are so many more emotional variables and its just more. But still it felt like something was missing. Sex as a man is and always was not completely satisfying. There is none of the feelings that I want, no rising wave, no slow build to a crescendo – just up, up, up and gone. So basically my body was feeling it one way, and my brain was telling me that I should be feeling it another way. There was a sizeable disconnect between my brain and my body, with my brain wanting more and my body being unable to provide. For such a long period of time I never knew where this problem was emanating from. I thought it was me, or that I wasn’t doing something right. Fortunately though, I derive a lot of pleasure from giving pleasure and that became my main focus, but for years my brain still wanted the impossible. Its only now, that I am transitioning, that I am beginning to realize what was missing for all those years.

Throughout the years of our marriage, I owned dresses and underwear and looked into various ways to get breasts, either buying forms, or growing them, but all of it was nothing more than a stop gap measure. It was putting aside what I needed to face. Nothing would fulfill the need I had. Not the role playing, or the women’s jeans, or underwear that I had and wore every day. Even the last couple of years before my acceptance was not enough, and by then I was wearing women’s boots and cardigans and being more daring in my attire. I thought achieving a measure of androgyny is what I needed, but once again that failed to be enough. What I wanted, truly deeply wanted and dreamed about was having real breasts and being feminine every single day. But each morning I woke up with shadow on my face and a male body and I felt despair.

I had considered Estroven, or buying hormones, or even living a double life, where I could be a girl in my free time and a male at work. But lets face it we have far more work time than free time so I would spend more than half my time as a male, when I had already done that for half my life.

I would go through life dreaming of being a girl. I dreamt of some weird things, like being able to go back in time and change my genetic structure in the womb so that my body would come out matching my brain. Or I even thought that it would be interesting to get into an accident where they needed to remove my genitals and the only way to achieve a functioning life was to create female genitals. I know it’s a weird thought, but I spent a lot of time living in my imagination and in there I thought that would guarantee support and acceptance from all, as it was something outside my control. These imaginings should really have told me what I needed to do, I suppose they did, I was just unwilling to admit it.

My hair continued to grow, many women were jealous of it, but for me it sometimes made me feel worse. I felt closer to my feminine self and yet it also served as a reminder that I was no anywhere close to being what I wanted to be. I was a guy with long hair. Oh and the times I got mistaken for a girl if someone saw me from behind. When going into the men’s restroom I was stopped – oh the irony of that now, lol. But there was always someone who had to look twice, even when I was standing doing my business, lol. And the times I got called Maam. Dang but every single time that happened it just drove the knife deeper. I felt like suck a fake. I was being addressed femininely by some and yet I was still a guy on the outside. I hated it and only wanted it to be the correct and normal form of address for me.

Why is it, I wonder, why we go through life trying to avoid decisions and fill our time with stop gap measures to help us avoid the big choices?

I knew what my deepest desire was. I knew what I needed to do, but I continually refused to admit it. I mean dang, there was even a website (a clean one) that had a woman in business clothing on the first page and every time I saw that page load I felt incredible jealousy, because I would never be like her. I would never be able to be feminine, to wear women’s clothing in public, to be what I felt to be normal. Every time I saw that woman on the page, or even any other woman that was dressed nice all I felt was insane jealousy, because I felt I would never be like that. Even if I accepted myself and chose to transition I thought I could never be like them. I thought I had left it too late to do anything and that to transition this late in life would be a mistake. I truly underestimated the effect of hormones on a body. But those were my fears back then. I was scared to admit to myself, to my family and scared that if I did accept myself that I had left it too late to be effective.

So even though I was married to an understanding woman – one who was very supportive of the LGBT and who had a Trans friend, I was still closeted about myself. Over the course of the first 14 years it would come up in conversation and I would consider coming out as Transgender, but every time it did I decided it wasn’t for me, or so I thought. I was really just burying the feeling back down cause I was too scared to move ahead with what I knew I needed to do. Living in the States I saw just how difficult it could be for Transgender people and I was not quite willing to throw myself in the middle of that, particularly given I had no idea how I would be accepted by family at home. I just didn’t feel I was up to the task of adequately defending myself or my choices. So I only waited till I was 40, until essentially half my life was over before finally accepting what had to be done, before finally knowing for sure that I had to transition and before fully understanding that the only choice to make was the one to choose to accept myself for who I was.

Now I am thankful that I didn’t wait any longer and so very thankful to have a loving, accepting and supportive wife.

A Trans Story - Interpretations

Interpretations

 

One thing that escaped me was the differences in how people interpret something that is written. My blog has a couple of different intentions – one to hopefully help people understand what some Trans people go through, also to perhaps help someone that might be struggling with Gender dysphoria themselves – showing them there is a way through. But another intention of my blog, was just me venting. There are not supposed to be any villains.

Sometimes I get frustrated with things and venting on my blog not only helps me process issues, but just basically helps me vent the frustrating feelings.

So one thing I do wish to address is that my Mother has done and will never do anything wrong. And I in no way wanted to convey that kind of message.

I didn’t think much of what I said in my blog would have conveyed that anyone was the villain – yes I did vent about one particular incident in which someone was completely wrong, and yes I was disappointed in the reactions from others, but we are all only human and the one thing I tend to forget is that my family have known me for 40 years and all they have known is Graham – a male. They never knew what I had on the inside, since I had done such a good job of hiding my feelings.

From my perspective nothing much about me is changing at all, but that’s only my perspective. From my point of view, I was always a woman, just one wearing the costume of a male, a costume I couldn’t get out of. But what I have to remember from time to time is that others see things differently, particularly when I went to such effort to conceal it all.

Was I scared to reveal it – Yes. Would I have liked instant acceptance – Yes – but is that truly realistic – No.

There can be no instant acceptance, that is just never going to happen, particularly with family and particularly when you are doing something so unexpected. It is difficult for me to see that at times, due to just feeling such relief about not having to hide myself anymore.

I am also impatient and now that I have accepted myself, part of me just wants to jump right in and be fully transitioned and have everyone accept me immediately. My mind thinks I have waited long enough. But I need to remember it’s a journey. A journey for me, and a journey for my family and friends and if I rush headlong into this, dragging you all with me, then I must apologize for that. I need to be reminded to stop, look up and take a breath from time to time.

Problem is. I have never been good at journeys – I hate them. I always look to the destination and this instance is no different. My eyes are on the destination and my desire to get there NOW. But that’s not fair of me. I need to give my family time to catch up and come to terms with it all.

So if my venting painted some as villains, then I must apologise to them and apologise to anyone reading this blog. There are no villains in this show, just varying opinions, some that I object to. I do need to take a step back from my circumstances and accept that people need time.

I have been told that I like to be authentic – and I believe the words were shamelessly authentic, lol. And I carry that with me always. I have to agree. My desire, need to be authentic is always a part of me, and I try to force that authenticity on the world by sheer force of will. With others I can do that and I can expect instant acceptance, for they have not known me as long. One thing I do need to remember is that forcing issues is not always the best way of dealing with the problem. Upon occasion time and patience is needed, something I struggle with, but in this instance something I need to develop more of. I do need to give time to my family.

And one thing everyone should know is that my Mother has always been there for me. She has always supported me in my dreams and aspirations, and continues to be here for me even now, even during a time where things will be difficult for her. My impatience led me to trying to force the issue and bull past any objections to my transition, or my name change. Once again, time and patience is needed.

 

You would think that patience is something I would have learned over the years. After having spent 40 years in the wrong body, hiding my true self and dealing with the world. Then dealing with the time it takes to start transitioning – facial hair removal, etc and even the immigration people taking more than a month to review my name change documents – yes you would think I would be an expert at waiting, but you know what – I hate it just as much now as I always have. But patience is something I need to learn to practice – and I will try.

A Trans Story - Reflections

Reflections

 

So it’s been a busy couple of weeks – My wife and I had to leave her mother’s house, due to irreconcilable differences. It was on a Friday afternoon and I left work early to go pack up our stuff. We then had to find a hotel and an apartment – which we managed to do. Surprisingly we got approved for an apartment the very next day. We did have to stay in a hotel for a week before moving in.

We took possession last Friday and moved on the Saturday – well the first half of our stuff was moved, thanks to the help from two remarkable friends that live in the same complex. But also due to less help than we hoped for the move is happening over two Saturdays.

So as we approach the second Saturday and we are preparing to move the rest of our things out of storage, I find myself in a reflective mood. I am thinking and reflecting on where I have come from, where I am now and where I will be in the future.

It is raining outside today, which quite often puts me in mind of Scotland. They grey clouds, along with the grey curtain of rain falling from them. I find that I actually miss Scotland. On and off throughout the years I have been occasionally nostalgic for my home, but perhaps more so now with all the changes in my life.

If I am completely honest with myself I do miss Scotland, but do I regret leaving – not at all. But there are times when I wonder where my life would have went had I not left. Would I have ever come to accept myself, or was the move and my marriage necessary events in that journey.

Like many other Trans my greatest regret is taking so long to accept myself, but sometimes I am forced to wonder what the reason might have been for that delay and if it were not actually for the best.

If I had accepted myself earlier in life, where would I be now? Would I have met the person who became my wife and center of my life? At that time she was not looking for a woman, or quite probably was not looking for a Trans woman either. She was looking for something unlike the average “Christian, right wing man” and I most certainly fell under that description. So was that the reason for my delay? Or was I waiting for something else?

I often find myself wondering if there are reasons for what happens in our lives. Is there a plan? Does everything happen in its correct, or Gods timing. I have never found a decent answer to any of those questions, as most of them require faith, which is not something I am good at. It’s difficult to take faith on, well, faith.

The more I think about it, the less I understand a faith based life. I have never been able to be that way. I have far too many questions, and doubts about everything. And I just cannot reconcile the idea of a grand plan, with free will – the two are just a complete paradox to me. But I often wonder, perhaps even wish that I could believe in a God, or a reason for my existence and believe in a reason for me being Trans.

Why are a small percentage of the population born this way? Why do we have to struggle to accept ourselves? And why do we have to struggle to have the same rights as other people? Why do folks object to using our preferred pronouns? They are our pronouns, its up to us what we want to be called.

Is there a reason for life, existence, for us?

At times I wonder if there is, or if it’s all just pure random chance. Is there a God? Is she like the Christian God, the Muslim God, the Jewish God, or any number within the pantheon throughout history? Does she even care about this paltry, self-centered race that exists on this planet doing our absolute best to destroy it and ourselves? Did she create everything, or was she just an architect that designed the Multiverse, set things in motion and now leaves it alone to see what might turn up.

Sometimes I lean in the direction of that last thought. That each and every one of us is a random convergence spun out of the soup made up by this capricious being. Everything that happens is pure chance, or whim and there are no reasons for anything.

But that doesn’t bring much comfort does it. I would like to think there is a reason for me. I would like to think that I have some purpose in life. But just what can be the purpose in having someone stuffed into the wrong body?

So back to where I might be if I had stayed in Scotland. Judging from the reactions of some of my family, I am leaning toward thinking that I would not have accepted myself any sooner, if at all. Perhaps without the support of a loving wife, I would never have been able to reconcile my identity. If I had stayed in Scotland I might still be fighting with myself right now, and who knows how long that battle would continue, quite possibly for the rest of my life, or atleast until I was very old and then almost all of my life would have gone by behind me in misery.

I often think where my wife might be now too, if it were not for me. I think what my decisions have done to her. I chose to accept myself, and begin transitioning knowing that it would change the entire dynamic of our relationship. And I also chose for us to move to California last year, hoping to find a place more accepting. And now look what has happened. We couldn’t make it work there, had to come back and spend 7 months staying at the Mouth of Hell, as I have come to call it. Oh I am thankful we had a place to go while we looked for work and all, but staying with someone else is really difficult. I won’t go into all that occurred, but quite a bit of it was no fun at all. So now we are living in an Apartment in Nashville, when I thought we would be living in one in California.

But one thing we did discover is some remarkable friends here in Nashville.

If it were not for me, where would my wife be I wonder? Would her life be better or worse? I often ponder the decisions I have made that have taken me on this journey. I don’t have much in the way of regrets, but I do wish we had not been so precipitous on our move to California – but that’s in the past now and all we can do is move forward with what we have.

But none of this answers my truly vexing questions – is there a reason for what goes on? Is there a plan? Is there divine intervention? Does a God, or Gods even care about us?

So many of us go through life never asking or wondering what might be the reasons we exist, what our impact is on the reality around us, and yet others of us ask these questions every day. I wonder why humans are here, what possible purpose could we have, given how much we screw things up? And what purpose is there in making some of us Trans? What is the reason for any of the LGB or T and what is the reason for straight, cis people quite often hating us.

Some might suggest that my reason could be to educate those straight cis folks, but to accept that, I would need to accept there is a grand plan to all of this. And that is, once again, where I run into trouble. I cannot imagine a grand plan that would involve a small portion of society being subjected some of the most vitriolic hatred for simply trying to be themselves.

I am luckier than many in that I have not had to face much in the way of hatred, just mostly from one member of my family who is less than nothing to me, but I still see it every day. And I see all the attempts to push legislation that limits our rights and that affects me a lot. I am a little bombastic when that happens and speak out saying it just makes me more determined. And I am being bombastic, because my words are empty – there is not really very much I can do, since you cannot convince idiots of the truth and when it comes to Trans issues and the Christian right – anything we say is simply attacking their core values, which gets their defensive hackles up. So what are we supposed to do? We cannot educate these people as they refuse to listen. We can educate the young, but that means we are stuck with this idiotic generation that doesn’t want to accept us and who wants to shout they believe in God when they reject a part of this gods so called creation. If you believe in God and you believe that God created everything then does it not follow that it would be the gravest of sins not to accept all of that creation? And could it not be said that it’s the height of hubris to even imagine you know what is part of this Gods plan? Or that you could understand even the tiniest portion of the Universe, or the divine being that started it?

But this all brings me right back to the beginning – what is my purpose, my reason? Why I am here? And why am I Trans?