I've just spent the last couple of days copying my blog entries from Susan's to here.
You can read the original posts at Susan's and see responses to them at her site.
I'm not leaving Susan's, but I feel having my blog entries in chronological sequence makes more sense and I think that being here they might be more visible to the wider world.
I'm hoping that these posts may help someone else in their journey.
In my small way, I'm hoping to pay forward some of the debt that I owe the others that have gone before me.
-Sandy
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Incomprehesibility of Gender Identity
The Incomprehesibility of Gender Identity
I have had to explain the discomfort that turned to anguish I experienced every day. And the prayer that I said every night.
To those I have had to explain this to, partners, therapists, and relations, the most compassionate have said that they can comprehend the pain, but could never understand it. Others, less compassionate and less comprehending, have called me sissy, faggot, queer, and more. All of us have had to endure this treatment.
But just today I sat down and I tried, I REALLY tried to understand what it would be like to not have GID. To actually be born in a body that my brain accepted, male or female, it doesn't matter.
And I came to the realization that *I* couldn't comprehend or understand this alien concept! I am just short of two years post-op and I am greatly contented, trust me! But every time I look in a mirror, go to the 'loo, or take a shower I know that I wasn't born this way.
What would life have been like waking up every morning and NOT having my gender as the first thing I thought about? What kind of different child would I have been? What would have my school experiences been? Would I have been the same wall flower at dances? Would I have taken a more active role in sports? Would I have challenged the alpha male in school? Or had I been born female would I have dated hunky football players? *heart flutter*
We here at Susan's have this massive blessing-within-a-curse in common regardless of our other backgrounds, and we view those without GID as being outside our two-spirit community. And they do the same to us. We are separate. Even our most loving, compassionate partners view us as different. Loved, but different.
This has been a stream of consciousness post, but has anyone else tried this exercise? Have you tried to put yourself in the shoes of the *others*? What does it feel like? I certainly don't know!
(As the fates would have it, my iPod just randomly shuffled into Pinkard & Bowden's "Since My Baby Turned Gay"! I wonder when "Dude Looks Like a Lady" will turn up)
-Sandy
Through this forum and others like it, and IRL, I have had to explain what this whole gender change thing is all about.
I have had to explain the discomfort that turned to anguish I experienced every day. And the prayer that I said every night.
To those I have had to explain this to, partners, therapists, and relations, the most compassionate have said that they can comprehend the pain, but could never understand it. Others, less compassionate and less comprehending, have called me sissy, faggot, queer, and more. All of us have had to endure this treatment.
But just today I sat down and I tried, I REALLY tried to understand what it would be like to not have GID. To actually be born in a body that my brain accepted, male or female, it doesn't matter.
And I came to the realization that *I* couldn't comprehend or understand this alien concept! I am just short of two years post-op and I am greatly contented, trust me! But every time I look in a mirror, go to the 'loo, or take a shower I know that I wasn't born this way.
What would life have been like waking up every morning and NOT having my gender as the first thing I thought about? What kind of different child would I have been? What would have my school experiences been? Would I have been the same wall flower at dances? Would I have taken a more active role in sports? Would I have challenged the alpha male in school? Or had I been born female would I have dated hunky football players? *heart flutter*
We here at Susan's have this massive blessing-within-a-curse in common regardless of our other backgrounds, and we view those without GID as being outside our two-spirit community. And they do the same to us. We are separate. Even our most loving, compassionate partners view us as different. Loved, but different.
This has been a stream of consciousness post, but has anyone else tried this exercise? Have you tried to put yourself in the shoes of the *others*? What does it feel like? I certainly don't know!
(As the fates would have it, my iPod just randomly shuffled into Pinkard & Bowden's "Since My Baby Turned Gay"! I wonder when "Dude Looks Like a Lady" will turn up)
-Sandy
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Has it been worth it?
Has it been worth it?
I tell ya boy and girls, I sit here at my 'puter scanning the interweb tubes and I sometimes wonder if getting my head pulled out of my lower recesses has been worth the stress.
Back when I used the little boys room, I was blissfully ignorant of the vitriol, hatred, and outright lies visited upon my newly acquired community. Oh I heard news reports and felt that Matthew Shepard's murder was a tragedy. When I was younger still I heard about the Stonewall riots and how the gays had an uprising. I thought it was probably appropriate since just about everyone was rioting about something back in those days.
But it never *touched* me!
I was a true blue male! And I liked girls and all, and had me quite a few! Yeah, I had a rather peculiar hobby, but it wasn't anything serious. Really!
While I agreed that people should be allowed to do whatever they liked regardless of their gender, I really thought it was none of my business really. I was just your average guy. I could never take *that* road! All I ever heard was that transsexuals became pole dancing, sex working, drug addicts just so they could be girls. And the gays and lesbians seemed to be so easy a target for laughter (I think just about every stand up comic had some sort of "fag" routine), or more darkly, being hunted, and killed with no real effort for justice.
No sir! I was NOT one of those! I had more important things to do! I had my whole career to think of! I was raising a family! I was a GUY! Maybe not quite so macho, but still I knew the whole "This is my rifle, this is my gun, this is for business, this is for FUN!" rhyme.
Times change.
Things change.
I changed.
There was a giant sucking sound so loud it measured on the richter scale when I pulled my head out of my, uhm you know, opened my eyes, and found out who I really was! I've documented quite a bit of it here so I'm not going to rehash that stuff in this post.
Now I'm a newly minted female find myself being a card carrying lesbian. I got the toaster oven sign up bonus to prove it! But I cannot marry the woman I love in the state in which I live. And were we to make the trek to one of the states that allow same sex marriage, it would not be recognized in my state. If we don't carry our power of attorney forms when we travel, we could be denied access to each other in case we are hospitalized. And the literally THOUSANDS of benefits that are accorded federally recognized married couples are denied us simply because our genitalia is similar not different. Our casual discrimination is accepted by the rest of the populace as no big deal.
I've become an advocate for the LGBT community at my office and I am a staunch supporter for the repeal of DOMA and DADT and fervently pray for the passage of ENDA.
Just a scant few years ago I would never have known what those particular acronyms meant!
And now when I read about the murders and the violence and the lack of justice I am incensed and outraged. I read about John McCain who I thought was a reasonable candidate for president especially when he showed distasted for calling Mr Obama an arab, stated emphatically, during the campaign, that if the Joint Chiefs called for the repeal of DADT then he would listen to them as president. Now he claims that the Joint Chiefs are out of line to even consider that since we have so much war going on (the same wars that were going on during Mr. Bush's reign of error). Or when extreme right wing bigots call for the murder of gays and lesbians as being in the name of God and Catholic bishops say that gays are worse than terrorists, I sometimes fail to see how humanity will progress.
Everyone in the community, EVERY SINGLE ONE, has had episodes of humiliation, discrimination, anger, or violence committed on them simply because of the differences we have. And in cold November we take time to remember the ADDITIONAL trans people who have been murdered since the last reading of the dead.
I was so g*d*m'd blissfully ignorant of all of this when I had the world as my urinal! I would have taken this blissful ignorance to my grave had I not changed.
I sometimes wonder if knowing is better than not knowing. Is having your eyes opened, and seeing, really seeing, what the fnck goes on in the world part of the blessing or part of the curse?
I am in a particular bitter and cynical mood of late. It may be due to a number of things. The recent loss of my brother surely has something to do with it. But also just the seemingly unending bitter and hateful rhetoric on the one side and the impassioned, though impotent action from our "friends" on the other just makes me feel hopeless and helpless.
I sometimes think that I would like to turn my back on the whole lot of it and just walk away. But I could never look in any mirror ever again.
I have not finished paying off my debt to Christine Jorgensen, and all the rest of the pioneers, activists and martyrs who have gone before me. I do not seek the notoriety that others have, and certainly others are more deserving.
But I will say that I will do this for one more day, and hopefully, tomorrow, I can say it again.
-Sandy
Back when I used the little boys room, I was blissfully ignorant of the vitriol, hatred, and outright lies visited upon my newly acquired community. Oh I heard news reports and felt that Matthew Shepard's murder was a tragedy. When I was younger still I heard about the Stonewall riots and how the gays had an uprising. I thought it was probably appropriate since just about everyone was rioting about something back in those days.
But it never *touched* me!
I was a true blue male! And I liked girls and all, and had me quite a few! Yeah, I had a rather peculiar hobby, but it wasn't anything serious. Really!
While I agreed that people should be allowed to do whatever they liked regardless of their gender, I really thought it was none of my business really. I was just your average guy. I could never take *that* road! All I ever heard was that transsexuals became pole dancing, sex working, drug addicts just so they could be girls. And the gays and lesbians seemed to be so easy a target for laughter (I think just about every stand up comic had some sort of "fag" routine), or more darkly, being hunted, and killed with no real effort for justice.
No sir! I was NOT one of those! I had more important things to do! I had my whole career to think of! I was raising a family! I was a GUY! Maybe not quite so macho, but still I knew the whole "This is my rifle, this is my gun, this is for business, this is for FUN!" rhyme.
Times change.
Things change.
I changed.
There was a giant sucking sound so loud it measured on the richter scale when I pulled my head out of my, uhm you know, opened my eyes, and found out who I really was! I've documented quite a bit of it here so I'm not going to rehash that stuff in this post.
Now I'm a newly minted female find myself being a card carrying lesbian. I got the toaster oven sign up bonus to prove it! But I cannot marry the woman I love in the state in which I live. And were we to make the trek to one of the states that allow same sex marriage, it would not be recognized in my state. If we don't carry our power of attorney forms when we travel, we could be denied access to each other in case we are hospitalized. And the literally THOUSANDS of benefits that are accorded federally recognized married couples are denied us simply because our genitalia is similar not different. Our casual discrimination is accepted by the rest of the populace as no big deal.
I've become an advocate for the LGBT community at my office and I am a staunch supporter for the repeal of DOMA and DADT and fervently pray for the passage of ENDA.
Just a scant few years ago I would never have known what those particular acronyms meant!
And now when I read about the murders and the violence and the lack of justice I am incensed and outraged. I read about John McCain who I thought was a reasonable candidate for president especially when he showed distasted for calling Mr Obama an arab, stated emphatically, during the campaign, that if the Joint Chiefs called for the repeal of DADT then he would listen to them as president. Now he claims that the Joint Chiefs are out of line to even consider that since we have so much war going on (the same wars that were going on during Mr. Bush's reign of error). Or when extreme right wing bigots call for the murder of gays and lesbians as being in the name of God and Catholic bishops say that gays are worse than terrorists, I sometimes fail to see how humanity will progress.
Everyone in the community, EVERY SINGLE ONE, has had episodes of humiliation, discrimination, anger, or violence committed on them simply because of the differences we have. And in cold November we take time to remember the ADDITIONAL trans people who have been murdered since the last reading of the dead.
I was so g*d*m'd blissfully ignorant of all of this when I had the world as my urinal! I would have taken this blissful ignorance to my grave had I not changed.
I sometimes wonder if knowing is better than not knowing. Is having your eyes opened, and seeing, really seeing, what the fnck goes on in the world part of the blessing or part of the curse?
I am in a particular bitter and cynical mood of late. It may be due to a number of things. The recent loss of my brother surely has something to do with it. But also just the seemingly unending bitter and hateful rhetoric on the one side and the impassioned, though impotent action from our "friends" on the other just makes me feel hopeless and helpless.
I sometimes think that I would like to turn my back on the whole lot of it and just walk away. But I could never look in any mirror ever again.
I have not finished paying off my debt to Christine Jorgensen, and all the rest of the pioneers, activists and martyrs who have gone before me. I do not seek the notoriety that others have, and certainly others are more deserving.
But I will say that I will do this for one more day, and hopefully, tomorrow, I can say it again.
-Sandy
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Suicide Redeaux
Suicide Redeaux
It's been a few months since my brother's untimely death by his own hand.
I'm still reeling from the event. And I am still furious at his selfish act. Though I have forgiven God (or that which passeth all understanding) for the most part.
There is an old joke:
A man's house is in danger of flooding and so he climbs on the roof to escape the flood. The waters rise and the man is flooded up to his waist.
A man in a rowboat comes by and tells the man to get in the boat and be taken to safety. The man on the roof replies "No, God will save me I do not need your help!"
So the rowboat leaves, and the waters climb higher. Later, a speedboat comes by and offers to take the man to safety, but again he refuses, saying "God will save me, I do not need your help!" And the speedboat leaves.
The waters rise even higher and the man is standing on tiptoe on the peak of his roof, his head is the only thing exposed. A helicopter comes by and tries to take the man to safety, but he still refuses, claiming the God will rescue him.
The waters rise even higher and the man is swept away in the flood.
He enters heaven and confronts God demanding to know why he did not save him from the flood.
God replies "I sent a rowboat, a speedboat, and a helicopter for you! What more did you want!??"
I was angry at God for not preventing my brothers attempt.
Upon reflection, I cannot say that he wasn't prevented. Suicide is something that only has to work once. But there can be many attempts. I do not know how many times my brother put the gun in his mouth. I do not know how many times he pulled the trigger. And I do not know how many times he was saved. But, regardless, my brother persisted, and finally succeeded.
I too have attempted suicide. I know first hand the dark demons that can drive a person to this act of ultimate despair. But, I was saved. I returned to life. I started on a path that gave me rebirth.
My anger stems from this. If I was saved, why not him? And the only answer I can say is that, perhaps he was, but like the man on the roof, he refused to see the gift he was given.
In the aftermath of this horrific tragedy, some things have happened that may be for the good. My next younger brother will be taking on the role of Great Uncle and provide my brothers son an adult male presence in his life that he never quite had before.
My brothers family is slowly picking up the pieces of their shattered lives and moving on. I wish them well and hope that I can help them in some way in the future. Though, right now, my presence is viewed as being a bit too alien for them to comprehend and accept. So be it. I will remain in touch but not be an active presence in their lives.
My siblings and I are bit closer now. Having lost one of our own we feel a bit more drawn together. Afraid of losing more than we already have. And perhaps that is for the good as well.
I am of two minds about the hereafter. I am very clinical, mostly, and I view life and self awareness as just "wires in a box". When we die, we just stop. The darkness and oblivion is all that awaits. But part of me feels a spiritual connection to something "out there". And feel, perhaps that Carl Sagan was wrong and maybe there is something afterwards, and we are a soul that has a body. I cannot tell and no one has ever returned to say any different (religion and bible stories aside).
My tears have dried, but I still feel the loss. He is gone and that is all.
-Sandy
I'm still reeling from the event. And I am still furious at his selfish act. Though I have forgiven God (or that which passeth all understanding) for the most part.
There is an old joke:
A man's house is in danger of flooding and so he climbs on the roof to escape the flood. The waters rise and the man is flooded up to his waist.
A man in a rowboat comes by and tells the man to get in the boat and be taken to safety. The man on the roof replies "No, God will save me I do not need your help!"
So the rowboat leaves, and the waters climb higher. Later, a speedboat comes by and offers to take the man to safety, but again he refuses, saying "God will save me, I do not need your help!" And the speedboat leaves.
The waters rise even higher and the man is standing on tiptoe on the peak of his roof, his head is the only thing exposed. A helicopter comes by and tries to take the man to safety, but he still refuses, claiming the God will rescue him.
The waters rise even higher and the man is swept away in the flood.
He enters heaven and confronts God demanding to know why he did not save him from the flood.
God replies "I sent a rowboat, a speedboat, and a helicopter for you! What more did you want!??"
I was angry at God for not preventing my brothers attempt.
Upon reflection, I cannot say that he wasn't prevented. Suicide is something that only has to work once. But there can be many attempts. I do not know how many times my brother put the gun in his mouth. I do not know how many times he pulled the trigger. And I do not know how many times he was saved. But, regardless, my brother persisted, and finally succeeded.
I too have attempted suicide. I know first hand the dark demons that can drive a person to this act of ultimate despair. But, I was saved. I returned to life. I started on a path that gave me rebirth.
My anger stems from this. If I was saved, why not him? And the only answer I can say is that, perhaps he was, but like the man on the roof, he refused to see the gift he was given.
In the aftermath of this horrific tragedy, some things have happened that may be for the good. My next younger brother will be taking on the role of Great Uncle and provide my brothers son an adult male presence in his life that he never quite had before.
My brothers family is slowly picking up the pieces of their shattered lives and moving on. I wish them well and hope that I can help them in some way in the future. Though, right now, my presence is viewed as being a bit too alien for them to comprehend and accept. So be it. I will remain in touch but not be an active presence in their lives.
My siblings and I are bit closer now. Having lost one of our own we feel a bit more drawn together. Afraid of losing more than we already have. And perhaps that is for the good as well.
I am of two minds about the hereafter. I am very clinical, mostly, and I view life and self awareness as just "wires in a box". When we die, we just stop. The darkness and oblivion is all that awaits. But part of me feels a spiritual connection to something "out there". And feel, perhaps that Carl Sagan was wrong and maybe there is something afterwards, and we are a soul that has a body. I cannot tell and no one has ever returned to say any different (religion and bible stories aside).
My tears have dried, but I still feel the loss. He is gone and that is all.
-Sandy
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