LifeDay

This is one of those posts that have stewed in my head for a very long time. With some of these posts I find that I have to write, and go back and mod, sometimes over a period of weeks as the thoughts form. This won't be one of those. This will be done in a single sitting.

The reasons why are easy. In your life you have inflection moments. Those sequences of events that shape your existence for all time going forward. For some it is a birth or a wedding, others the loss of somebody close. Maybe it was a harsh word, or one of encouragement. Maybe it was one where you made some deep mental connection that changed your perception about life and your very existence.

Exactly twelve months ago I had such an event. I have eluded to it in other posts but never put it right out there. So here it goes.

In November 2008, for the first time in my life I admitted to another person that I was a transsexual. I did not know what the implications of that were, or would be for me. I had established a rapport with my therapist on the topic. And had disclosed the nature of my GID to my spouse, whom I had told some 20 years before that I had "an issue".

On the Saturday prior to Thanksgiving my spouse and I had a somewhat nasty discussion. After which I managed to whack my head into the sheetrock of our front hall. I left an impressive dent in it. The nature of my lament was I had "come clean" on what was in my head, and had taken away that that answer would never be good enough. I had hoped that my honesty would allow for forgiveness. It did not. On this evening I was tortured by three separate demons.

The first of having to make amends for not being true to my family and spouse. In this argument it became clear, she would likely never forgive me for what I was, that our marriage could never go back to "business as usual", that she would forever hate the person that my male persona had been.

The second that although I knew in my soul I was female, that my exterior would "never" be a success in the world in creating a convincing female presentation. On this one I have been chastised by other TS women. Their claim seems to be that if you feel it to be so, the whether or not you ever pass is not important. My answer, bullshit. For me to view a transition as practical I needed to know that I could go on with my life, as a woman, not some concoction of a woman.

Third the specter of what a public transition might do to my family, my business, and all of the other aspects of my life. This I could not picture.

In fact it was this that was the primary instigation to my next act. I took some pills. I am not saying what, or how many. It was enough to make me pretty sick. My spouse intervened and I ended up in the hospital. I am not going to speculate on other outcomes.

I found it ironic that 24 hours ago we celebrated the TDoR, but had I been a bit more industrious I might have been a candidate for the list, but my guess is I would not have made it. What I mean is there are probably many such tortured souls who never told anybody they were Trans and so they will never see that recognition of having their name read.

And so a day later, Sunday morning sometime, I awoke in a hospital in a wing where the doors have keycards and nobody left or came of their free will. I would stay in this place for 3 days. Again I will not cover the gory details of my delightful long weekend. Suffice to say, it sucked.

In all of this there is a silver lining. You see around the second night there I met the night nurse, Ruth, who changed my life forever. Not a shrink, or a loved one. The night nurse. As I sat there with my eyes glued on a clock Ruth came over to talk to me.

"What is the matter with you honey?" she inquired. At this point I figured she already knew. It was probably plastered all over the chart "WARNING: THIS PERSON HAS A GENDER ISSUE!". So I just told her, I am transgendered, and likely a transsexual. She looked me in the eyes and said in the most matter of fact way, "Is that all?". I about fell out of the chair. She then proceeded to tell me she knew a lot of transgendered folks, and that she made jewelery for all of the "girls" at the hospital. I said "All?" She said yeah, there are a bunch here, I asked "That I can count on my fingers and toes?" She said, "yes".

We went on to talk about me, and my "affliction". What it would mean to my kids, my spouse, my work and the rest of the world. She joked, "Well one thing for sure, you will be a plus size girl." She was right about that one. And after a few hours of conversation I realized she viewed me as a woman. And it was at that moment that I had my "inflection" point.

I accepted that I was Transsexual. That is different than you knowing you are. That is something that usually happens when you are young. This was a different place. This was acceptance that I am what I am without shame. Without condition, that I would go on living and have to learn how to live knowing this about myself and that others outside of me would also know, and that it was ok.

I do not want to leave you with the wrong impression of events. It was some weeks later that I began to get to my next step. That of embracing being "trans". Taking it. Owning it. Being it. That would come later and I will post on those events eventually. Nor has this been a cake walk either. That acceptance has a pricetag. A hefty one in some cases. For me it cost me my marriage, and now effects a heavy toll on my wallet, my person and my time.

Which is most unfortunate. Because without her intervention that night I might not be writing this post. I would have never seen Sharon in the mirror. Would have never had the real me see the light of day. Would never have let my kids meet and get to know my true self. There would probably be no TransParentDay for others to enjoy. So I owe my, soon to be former, spouse for all of that. I have no idea if she ever reads this stuff I write here. But just in case. Thank you for my life. I am sorry we have fallen apart. I wish it could be different. But it is what it is, just like me.

And so here I sit, exactly a year later. Wondering what comes next. No not on the transition trail, that stuff feels like mechanics to me. Do this, do that, take this, don't do this, etc. etc. Box checking, something I am really good at. No I am wondering when I sit down a year from now and reflect on 2 years since that dire night where will I "be". Not geographically mind you. Where will I be as a human being. I am not afraid as much as I am curious. On my nightstand is "Comfortable With Uncertainty". I am learning how to deal with that uncertainty. It seems to be an ever so gradual process.

I think I am going to call the Sunday before Thanksgiving "LifeDay". It is the day I started living again. The day I accepted me. Good and bad. I suspect many of us have a LifeDay. We don't celebrate them like birthdays but I suspect they are way more important that just noting another personal orbit of the sun.

So is there a purpose in this post? Yes. I have no regrets of those events of a year ago. It proved to be a catalyst. Without out it I might not have figured out as much about me as I have. Would I recommend that method to others. Absolutely not. Let me at least be the harbinger of good fortune. To those of you with personal angst. I know your pain. To those who do not see a way out, or forward do not go into the dark place. If you possibly can, take something from my experience. If not I do so understand.

If I have any any one single purpose on the planet I want you all to know that no matter how impossible you may feel your situation to be. No matter how dire. No matter how alone or unloved you may feel at any instant. There is always hope. Please believe me. You can overcome this. You can be you. And you are so very not alone in this.

Come take my hand and walk with me in the sunshine of a new day.

Happy LifeDay to me...

Sharon in Neitherland

Sorry if you read me "regularly" as I have been remiss in posting. That has been for a lot of reasons of late. I won't list them all here, well maybe just a few. Custody case, divorce proceedings, getting settled in new place, getting son squared away with life changes, and of course transition stuff. Gee I guess that is actually all, or at least most of them. Or as they say, life, that stuff that happens while you are making plans. Yes indeed, life.

Of late I have had this recurring "funk" I get into. Kind of a "why bother" thing. Why bother putting on your hair and makeup, you only have to take it off later, read on...

At the moment I am stuck in this "in between" state. Not he, not really she either. In fact, on some days I am he, and others she. This is really a misnomer, inside I am always she. However on some days I have to present as he. In a recent week I toggled daily, and sometimes twice in the same day. Meaning part of the day I was he, and part of the day I was she.

My lawyer (who is Trans too) told me that at this point in the journey we are actually forcing ourselves into an artificial split personality, our own little self induced schizophrenia. It is not chronic mind you, just acute. It goes away quickly when you can stay one way or the other for a day or two. Interesting though that the longing to be just one, her, never goes away.

So as a funk goes this one is troubling. Now I know all the lectures about being andro/metro whatever. Where folks want you to be in the dude or the chick column and not straddle the two. And I know for me, eventually, the chick column is home. But as many of you dear readers know, it ain't quite that simple. So I find myself like one of those sci-fi adventure heros where the earth has formed a big crack and I am straddling it as it grows wider. Eventually I have to leap to the left or the right or fall in. However today is not the day I need to leap, despite the urgings of onlookers shouting, jump! jump!

Yesterday my lawyer makes a housecall, she transitioned over a decade ago BTW. And oh you are noting, a lawyer that makes housecalls? Yeah, they exist, I got one. Anyhow, I am working from home that day. Mind you in what I now call, soft mode. It means my now growing hair is let to fall down and frame my face. I sport a girl watch. Sometimes my clothes are boy, fatigues and a polo, sometimes girl, jeans and a fem t-shirt. This day I am boy. I answer the door, she looks at me, smiles a bit, and then shakes her head back and forth. Almost in a disapproving manner. I cannot tell if she is amused, or thinks I am foolish, or is recalling her own days of transition. I poke her on it but she has a clever habit of changing subjects on such things.

But without really pressing her I know what it is. It is the Neitherland effect. I look softer, in the middle, not girl, not boy. She has already told me she does not approve of slow transitions. Not like she has much say about mine. But I got her silent point. I am a "tweener" right now.

My take is this stage is inevitable. Unless you are the sort that goes home on Friday and comes back on Monday "re-gendered", to the shock of everybody. That seems harsh, and uncalled for. Maybe it is easier. I do not know, it is not on my path.

So back to that funk. Today is a really good example. I could have had an all girl day. I have a treatment at laser this AM, voice class later, some friends have invited me to dinner. But the treatment at laser is a micro-derm on my face (they tossed it into the package). And although that sounds just fine, as I present today I still use the wig. And wearing that, and having somebody do stuff to your face with liquids and creams and such seems problematic. Mind you I go to electro with wig on, but in that case 90% of my electrologists clients are Transwomen, so no biggie. So today I get up in a funk. Be she, or be he, that is the question. What a question to ask oneself. Like it was red socks or green. Paper or plastic. In the end I decide it is just "easier" to be boy for laser, then come home and be girl for the rest. Neitherland here I come.

I know at some point this crap will no longer matter to me. I am soon there. I have started going places in my neighborhood as Sharon. This is either wise or foolish, probably both. But I have determined that few see him, when the see her. This works for me, and I will play it, but eventually the connection will be made. I am hoping soon for the day when I just get up, and be me and not worry about presentation. The goal of "oneness". I am not sure how far off that is. But I am certain there are two parts.

The first part is oneness out there. Meaning folks see me, as me, and not as two people with different genders. That still has some work for me to do. At this point on my business and public service sides of the coin. The second is oneness within me. So that I do not care about the wig, the forms or any of the rest of it. That I can just go about and be me. That is also going to take some effort. However that effort is all in the wetware (the stuff between your ears, hon).

So in the meantime I will continue to explore my Adventures in Neitherland. This conundrum of who to be day by day. I will seek integration of all of that. I am reminded of a conversation with my shrink (a term of endearment BTW) from last year. I asked is there a way one can integrate these male and female aspects of yourself? She said yes there is, and it has a name. I was thrilled to know this, I asked what it was called. She said transition. I laughed then, but she is right. So I will continue to explore Neitherland for a bit more. Ooh look there is a cup that is labeled "Drink Me" I wonder what that does?