Privatization

I have not written here in some time.  Not because I have not had things to write about, nor the inclination to do so.  I have not written for two reasons.  The first is that my ex seems to read this blog.  And then when it suits her, she and her attorneys elect to selectively lift comments and sections, context free, and use them against me with the court.  Someday I will expose all of this, perhaps in a book.  

The second is that I am now heading up a civil rights organization and one thing I have noted is those who are in opposition to people like me will do things in a similar manner.  That is selectively lifting excerpts to be manipulated, and misconstrued to their own ends.

Thus accordingly I am taking the blog private. I am not sure what knob needs tweaking for that on blogger.com but I will be turning it shortly.  I was also seeking a way to make sure those who do follow me can do so with "permission".  I am sure all of those things are available I just have to find the tweaker.

Since my postings here to date have been in the public domain I will likely just move to a new named blog shortly.  Stay tuned and I will update this post with details when I do so.

Thanks,

S.

Rushing

[I wrote this back in January 2011 but did not post it.  I guess I had reservations at that time about the tone.  So you now get it belated with a few modest edits. My surgery is on 4/19/2011]

I have finally made plans for the rest of my surgery.  You know, the one the rest of the world calls the "big one".  It is kind of funny.  I mean in many ways this is the one that nobody can see.  So it makes you wonder what is the preoccupation with it.  I mean if I was having my gall bladder out, or appendix or something folks would not think twice about it.  What has surprised me is the reaction of some of my trans friends.

A few months back, almost 3 now, I had FFS.  I had an evening I wrote about not having a great experience in the gayborhood with my new mug.  One friend of mine took those events out of context and posed to me that I had remorse or lament about my surgery. That somehow I had moved too fast, and that to put it nicely, was not ready.  I found that really interesting.  Yes, I was indeed beside myself that evening on what was "broken" in my world.  But after a fashion I parsed it.  The problem was not in me, but in the place I was in.

I discovered that folks I do not know will likely have some degree of Transdar when it comes to me.  There is no reason to assume their superpowers are any less developed than mine are.  In fact they may even be better.  Certainly another transperson can see that I am trans.  Probably quickly.  I have just been really lucky that a large portion of the population does not have that scope well tuned.  

But that is not what my friend was after.  She was after me to admit that I had reservations, or lament, over getting surgery.  And the truth is, the only possible lament is that there is a bridge now burned.  Meaning the only direction I can go is forward.  For my friends who have not had surgery, going back, might be an option.  And I wonder if my decision to take away that option leaves them more uncomfortable than they were prepared for.

And so that brings us to the so called bottom work.  These same friends seem to be worried about something here, but they cannot put their finger on it I guess.  Or maybe they are afraid to?  It would seem that in the strata I am about to shift layers.  I cannot tell if they are worried I will move on and leave them behind, or they are having angst because they would like to come along but are not able because of circumstance or worse yet, fear.  It is entirely possible I misread this concern.  But I keep getting asked, are you sure?

I would be clear on this topic.  I have never hated "it".  Never stood in the kitchen with a butcher knife, never loathed myself, never abused "it" in any way.  It was merely how I got made.  And so I dealt with it.  And throughout my transition I have never developed anything more than a "discomfort" of the incongruity of "it" and who I have become.  That, and my pants do not always fit the way I would like and a bathing suit is kind of out of question.  Aside from that, in many ways this feels like a comment made by a post-op friend of mine. She said, "When the time comes, it will be about as significant as getting a mole removed."  Wow!  And yet, I am nearly in that same place right now.

The real answer is I want this intense "transition" phase to be over with.  I want to get on with life and do important things. At least things that are important to me.  And I have long ago decided that transition, or being trans, is not what defines me.  No more than being tall, or my eye color, or hair color.  It is just another attribute I posses.  

So rather than draw it all out, I am ready to get it done.  And I think that is what is bugging my non-op friends.  For them, their transitions have been many many years, long. A drawn out processes.  And for me, mine really happened a long time ago.  Now I am just executing on the plan.  

I see this in some of the group meetings I attend.  Some girls have this grief phase they are in.  They are mourning their old selves.  They often do so with other mourners.  Be they friends or family.  I guess I can understand that.  But I have not experienced it.  In my mind I made my transition on LifeDay.  The formation of me was much more like sculpting.  I believe Michelangelo was once asked about his method of sculpting.  He stated, I see the form in the marble, and my task is to take away the bits that do not belong.  I have probably paraphrased that so forgive me.  But for me, that is kind of how my transition has gone.  Taking bits away.  And then revealing what is left.  My FFS surgeon parroted a similar sentiment on his work.  He said in your case we only took things away.

And so as my date nears in the next few months I am wondering not how the world at large is going to treat me but how my community of friends is going to feel.  I am certain I have not rushed to a decision here.  Of course I have been certain of other things in the past and been wrong about them too.  But more often my "gut" told me the truth and others around me and my head tried to convince me with rational precision that I was wrong.  And yet in the end, the "gut" was really right.  That is the place that I am.  I need to move ahead, and be done with this exercise of the mechanics of transition so I can just live life.  Will my transition be complete?  Yes, someday.  But that day probably involves a long term lease on a pine box.

Keeping The Band Together

As most of us confirm for ourselves, I have been trans my whole life.  But I ignored it. Ignore is not the right word.  Tolerate might be better.  But even that comes up short.  It is like one of those things that you know about something but are willing to overlook.  There must be a word for that, I would be surprised if the Germans don't have some word like "Freundnichtsehen" or something like it.  What more could you expect from folks who actually have a word for "taking delight in the misfortune of others".  But I digress.

It took me until 47 years of age to act, and then it only happened at the instigation of another.  Meaning like the dog that jumps when kicked I was lying dormant.  Inactive. Inert.

Part of the reason I was was that I had never had the courage to be myself, and walk out the front door and go connect with those like me.  When I started on my own journey of exploration in 2008 I did not know a single transperson in the world.  Sure I knew who some were, but that is not the same as interacting with them, breaking bread, or having a drink.  Finding a way to ask questions.  I had none of that.  To put it bluntly.  I had no friends who were trans.  None.

When I look today at my facebook friends list I am kind of surprised.  I presently have about 167.  I know, you facebook diehards are scoffing.  So what?  Well if you look at my criteria it means something.

I usually only friend you if we have met in the real world, or have met and had conversation in some other forum, or we have a lot of mutual friends who know you in real life too. Sorry.

So you see those are not a Pokemon-esq collection of friends ("Gotta catch 'em all").  These are all "real" people.  Not just somebody that stumbled on me on somebody else's page and said, "Oohh, I want to friend her".  Nope, most of them I have sat and talked with at one time or another.  There is a very very small number of folks I have friended outside that space.  

And of those friends I presently have about 20 or so that I am pretty close with.  Meaning they have been to my home, slept in my guest room, had breakfast or maybe even have a key to my front door.  I have taken to referring to them as the "posse".  They are my advisors and confidants.  My personal support group in many ways.  Mind you, they are all independent actors.   I have no dominion over them in any way.  

When I was in college I played in a ten piece funky horn band.  No lie.  We were a mix between Tower of Power and Earth Wind and Fire.  We were really good.  In fact friends have kept that band going for 30 years.  Wow!  Go here and you can see them still, and hear them too.  There is even an original pix of the band from 1981 that I am in.  Good luck picking me out. 

My point was that even in the beginning it was really hard to keep that band together.  Personalities, agendas, feelings, perceptions all come into play.  There were times when I went on stage where the lead singer hated the drummer.  Or the bass player hated the guitarist.  Or the piano player hated me, the lead trumpet.  Yeah, that happened.  We played together for 6 months regularly and he said not word one to me in that time.  But, the show went on.  And still does, now, without me, or that piano player for that matter, and has done so for many many years.  

I moved on to other things like a finishing up my schooling (are we ever really done with that?), working, and later starting companies and creating jobs for people.  I helped create two really neat kids.  But as all things, times change.  Needs move, and expectations are sometimes unmet.  And sometimes that is because it would not be possible for somebody to meet them.  It happens.

But, seeing that that band is still together after all these years and it gives me some hope.  I saw some of those band members a few years back before I started transition.  We met in NYC and had a session in a studio for old times sake.  It was great.  My kids got to see a side of me they had only heard of.  And even those members with whom I had had some friction had forgotten all of it.  It was a great time.  I hope to tell them soon of my transition and perhaps see them.  But that is not the message of this post.  I shared that tale to illustrate a point.  Keeping a group together requires active, hard work.  It does not just "happen".  Especially in modern times and away from places like work, or church or school.

And that is what is bugging me about some of my "new" trans friends.  None of whom knew me a little over two years ago.  I beg the question, "If we were not trans, would we be friends".  Now I know that being trans offers a great initial glue.  Everybody has this secret you see.  And now we all know about it.  And for those who are not "out" or "full-time" there is an unwritten code it seems.  "Thou shalt not out somebody".  We all know it, but it is never spoken.  But the interesting bit is once you are past that issue (meaning I know you are trans, and you know I am) almost everything else is fodder for discussion.  

I can liken it to folks who served together in time of war.  They forged a bond of common intense experience.  I think this is true for transfolk too.  And so you have that "band of brothers" er, "sisters", mentality.  But my question is "Is that enough of a glue to hold it all together?"  As of late I think not.  

I have had a few instances this past year or so where disagreements between friends have blossomed into something much more ugly.  And that is too bad.  But I also know that it is bound to happen.  Because once you strip away the trans bit what do you really have in common?  In many cases, not much.  It reminds me of a quip I stole from my therapist.  "Once you have met one transperson, you have met one transperson.  Not all".  

Most recently I had a falling out with a trans friend.  I would note this would not be my first such fallout in my lifetime, it has happened infrequently before with others, before and after my transition.  I suspect it will happen again someday.  People are human, as such they have flaws.  Everybody has flaws.  I have flaws.  So they make what another might perceive as a mistake, or do some thing that irritates.  What I have found about true friendship is that those flaws are tolerated, or overlooked, as long as they do not require us to compromise principles. That seems to be a breaking point.  And if those flaws strike a nerve or irritate an already present perception it often becomes that which precipitates the fallout.  Usually like a dam that breaks.  The crack was the event, the water behind the dam the impetus.  

In the past 3 months or so I have been silent in this blog.  I probably should have been writing almost daily.  I am still waiting on resolution of a number of life changing events for me.  I'll likely post on those in coming days.  But there is one thing that has truly hurt me.  Of late I got involved in local politics here in Maryland.  Some of you are likely aware of this.  I came out with a position on a piece of pending legislation.  One that has opinions split (and make no bones about it, split is the word) on it here in my home state.  

And so with reference to friendship I have had a number of "trans friends" go on an offensive against me.  And I guess the thing that surprised me was the the voracity of the tone.  And in almost universal consort (there are a few exceptions), rather than challenge my ideas, they challenged me.  My validity to speak for myself.  My right to have an opinion.  I have been called names like shill, sycophant, idiot, stupid, sock puppet, sellout, traitor, and a host of others including a reference to my "having a new tranny smell".  And in all that time I have never called anybody a name, or denigrated their right to speak on matters of concern.  I have indeed challenged what they have said!

I have had fictitious rumors spread about me in the community about my reasons and logic for backing this bill.  I have had my remarks paraphrased and taken out of context.  I have been attacked by out-of-state noisemakers who have never bothered to actually have a conversation with me.  Nor even attempted to, and when I attempt to have a constructive dialog with them I am told "talk to the hand".  And there seems to be a general notion that I am incapable of thinking for myself.  That if you disagree with me then I am obviously brain washed, or have been "drinking the kool aid".  Remarkable.

So I will close with this.  To my friends who do not agree with me. I am sorry that my position, or presentation of ideas has offended you.  I am disappointed by the tone you have used with respect to what I had hoped would be a dialog based on facts and not emotion and innuendo.  And you may have to forgive me if it is a long time before I can forgive how you have behaved and that we now have a fractured community which is the complete opposite of what is needed to be able to press forward. I do not know how to heal this matter.  And the really sad part is the damage to what I had thought were real friendships.  I have come to reaffirm that it really is tough holding a "band" together.  A lesson I have should have remembered from 30 years ago.

Leadership

I started writing this post over a year ago.  One of the things I noticed about my journey is I seemed to be "attracting" people.  Not attention mind you, people.  I am aware that I have some strong tendencies to organize and execute.  It is probably the skill that has allowed me to have some modest success in business.  What I did not realize is what that skill might mean in the Trans community.

Over year ago I went to the Southern Comfort Conference (Sep 2009), and while there I learned a lot about me and what other people tell me they "see". I chose those words carefully. The reason is I am not sure I see it myself. The reality is I went to SCC for the first time with a mission in mind. (You are all moaning I know, "Oh no, Sharon on a mission, how out of character"). But I was.

This was my third conference of 2009, and yeah, that probably is a lot  in one year but I suspect there are some girls that go to almost all of them. Especially those with idle time and income to boot. Back in January of 2009 I decided I needed to explore who the hell I am. Since my circumstance at the time did not allow me to be 24-7 very often I needed venues for that.  Conferences became my outlet and exploration vehicle.

First came Keystone , in Harrisburg in March of 2009. This forever will be a sweet spot for me. My first debut to a bigger world. And one that was a success. My trip to Wisconsin and Be-All in June of 2009 were so that I might see what a long playing version of that would be like. It was confirming.  SCC was something else entirely. 

First off I went to SCC with a number of girls who are local (DC-Balto). "With" is a strong word, I was there at the same time is better. They, for the most part, drove the 10+ hours to Atlanta, I opted for jet fuel instead. If I make a quick count of folks I knew from back home that knew me it was like 10. Add to that girls I knew from Keystone and Be-All and those who have become cyber-friends and it felt more like 30 girls that I knew on sight and knew me. It was like a sorority meeting (or at least what I might imagine one to be).

But what was different was the messaging I got from both my local friends, and others. This may sound really self serving, and in fact I almost did not post this as I am afraid it will be taken the wrong way. You see one of the things I guess I did, that was not expected, was the whole TransParentDay thing with my friend Erica. This presented me, and Erica in large measure, as a new set of "leaders" in the community. This might seem way naive of me, but I had not even considered such a thing. I was just promoting a good idea. Not trying to lead anything.

None the less, I had things that propagated into my ears at the conference that startled me. Girls whom I had been looking to as my examples were holding me up as one. I did not expect this. How could I, 12 months prior, I did not even own a dress, I had never been in public, my experience in life as a woman had been 30 days as a character in Second Life. And now I find myself in a dress (a pretty one), and speaking to a group in a seminar about a holiday concocted by a friend of mine who was just celebrating something with her kids.

And me, little miss part time, who could not get my world together to transition yet. I realized it had been nine months since being brave enough to walk out that hotel room door. Now I am in the front of the room evangelizing something. With passion. For the rest of us. That would make me nuts I think, or maybe it just means I am doing what I always have done, care too much. And I have brought that with me into my nascent womanhood.

My friends credit me with all sorts of stuff, I hear words like, ringleader, catalyst, glue girl, spokesperson, brave, courageous and if you can believe it "hero". Never mind that that person they were talking about sat in tears not once, not twice, but at least three times that weekend at SCC. Each time, a puddle regarding some mystery of this journey. I am all of those things and none of them at the same time. I am mostly just me.

So did I have the SCC blues upon coming back? Yes indeed. Were they for "me", yeah a little. But they were not about "dressing" or "passing" or "partying" or any of that stuff. They were about "being".  The idea that by coming back and still being "him", I was being weak, not true to myself.  And that made me angry with me.

But there was another thing afoot from the SCC trip.  I asked myself why me?  And after talking to a few friends who where a bit further down this road I got some new perspective.  Of all of us who are trans in some way only a fraction ever do something about it.  Meaning something as simple as ever going out of the house enfemme (enhomme?) even.  Of those a much smaller percentage have the courage and means to make it to a conference.  And of those at a conference a very small set will ever start a transition or make some permanent changes.  And of those that do that only a small percentage will actually fully transition and be somewhat successful in their outcome.  So of all transpeople those who transition successfully represent something less than 1% of everybody who is Trans.  The number might even be lower I do not have any scientific data to support that claim but it seems to me to be true.  Therefore it must be right?

And of that elite 1%, the number that "sticks around", to be visible, or mentors, or advocates, or activists or dare I say "leaders" is a number even smaller.  So when you go to a trans event you will find the same 5 or 6 people who show up, to give talks, or presentations, or keynotes.  So the "leadership" might end up being a fraction of a percent.  And so when they see somebody that has it together (I am not saying I am such a person) the tendency is to latch on, and encourage and promote them to do greater things.  

In January of 2010 I was approached by a good friend to help her moderate the local support group I had been attending.  I agreed to do so, not for me, but for her.  To give her the chance to "bleed" into that room.  She was on the cusp of going full time and she needed the space, and relief.  So far so good on that front.  As near as I can tell folks generally like my moderation style (if they don't somebody please tell me).  But "leader" is not a title I would take with that "honor of service" I have a few times a month to keep the chaos in the room from running a muck.  I should not say that, among support groups I have attended ours historically has been one of the most civil.  So my job is actually quite easy.

What is not easy is the notion that once you put that "suit" on folks make a lot of assumptions about you.  For one they assume that you will be present at any local function that is going on the "community".  Regardless if you had plans to attend or not.  Having your own life seems to be a concept that is missing in the minds of some in our community.  I have teenage kids, I have my own business, I am involved in youth organizations, and I am now "out", and that means me in the mainstream.  Every single weekend night will not be taken up with a Trans-related event.  I am trying to establish me, as a normal, breathing, living human being.

Of course being able to string together a complete sentence with a cogent thought seems to be in demand these days. I guess there is a shortage of that. And so I am now getting the attention of the activists.  Some of that is self induced in that I gave them money this past year.  I figure I was not able to go out and fight for my rights due to being in the closet yet.  So I would do it by proxy.  That said I am somewhat vocal as to what happens with that money, and so I have been interacting with some of the leadership of those organizations.

To date that has manifested itself in requests for my joining their board(s) of directors.  Mind you I have had three offers from three different organizations to date.  I have always noted that nature abhors a vacuum.  So it might just be normal for those outfits to want to suck me in.  Presently I am unsure if I am ready to do that.

And so there lies the rub.  Do I do it?  I am already pressed for time.  I am certain I can contribute, but should I?  And at what price?  I have much ground yet to traverse on my transition road.  Some medical, some social.  I have a lot of things to prove to some people.  Mostly about me "still" being able to carry the water.  How does adding more buckets help?  Or is it more of a case of opportunity knocking.  When it does, shouldn't you at least answer the door?

I am hoping soon that I will understand what calling is being placed on me. I am not sure what the plan is. On the other hand I have seen too many things in my short life that defy explanation. Connections formed from chaos. A simple comment that leads to a person, that leads to a kindred spirit, that leads to a discussion of pain, that leads to a solution of joy, that leads to an kernel of an idea, that leads to a brainstorm that leads to hundreds of pink, white and blue wristbands walking around Atlanta and now presumably thousands across the country.

What do you think?