Playing Pretend

It’s funny the questions I get about transitioning, and especially I find how people word things.

One of the most interesting things is when someone says “when you were a man.”

I’ll be honest, I was never a man. Obviously it was pretty uncomfortable I went through a lot of effort to get away from it. I’m also a financial professional who is white. I walked away from a lot of privilege, not that I ever wanted it.

But the idea that I was ever a man is crazy. It was a part to play. I often think about the issue of trans actors, especially with the few trans roles out there. There’s always a controversy because invariably they cast a cis man to play a trans woman. As if that trans woman doesn’t know how to play a trans character. But honestly, even those trans folk that don’t choose to be actors, have had to be actors.

Having to wear a gender identity that isn’t your own is exhausting and grueling. It requires a constant level of analysis and understanding, because you have to make your way in the world in a way that doesn’t feel natural. You have to question your initial reactions, your instincts constantly, lest they expose you and place you in danger.

So no, I was never a man, I just pretended to be one because it wasn’t safe to be myself. I was apparently pretty good at playing pretend, because no one ever guessed I was trans. Yet I was constantly fearful of the tiniest slip. Which is probably why I never outed myself.

We all have to play roles that don’t quite fit in our life. We need to be something for someone because that’s what they need in the moment. I’m talking about the surreal experience of living a second identity, honestly from a very young age too.

I was never a man, I just donned that identity out of fear. it never fit, and honestly I wasn’t very good at it. Yet it got me to where I am now, in only a few pieces. But I’d rather live a single day of honest, sincere, unyielding truth then a lifetime of pretend.

Soul lifting, warm, freeing joy

If I had of known that changing my name was going to make me feel so good I would have done it sooner. I got everythign back officially last week and I have felt like a brand new person. The world is brighter, my heart hurts less. I’ve been on cloud 9 for almost a week now.

Sometimes the little details make a huge difference!

Bittersweet

Flavors swirling, catching, changing

Experiences developing, immutable yet ranging

Dry eyes, full of scorn

Tears drip, newly borne

 

Bittersweet is the wine of life

poured carelessly, barely tasted

lovingly bottled, preserved, and rife

Enjoyed, hated, protected, wasted

 

Decanter open, smells unleashed

proudly displayed, ashamedly fleeced

bad vintage, bad year, faultless, fear

tended, cared, loved so near.

 

The sweet taste of joy

I don’t even know how to title this post. I want to take a chance to talk about mixed feelings. Transitioning has been in many ways very difficult and scary, and in other ways one of the mot rewarding and fulfilling things I’ve ever done.

What I need to do a better job of expressing, especially to myself, is the joy and contentment I feel by feeling like myself. It’s odd how the better I feel the more obvious the bad feelings are. When I was miserable and in the closet I was fairly even keeled. Now I’m all over the place emotionally, and I couldn’t be happier about that fact.

It’s become difficult to be a moderate person, to feel moderately, live moderately. Sometimes I feel like a kid with incredible swings in mood, though I know they’re not very big to most people.

I never thought sadness could make me happy. I had never experienced happy crying, I had never been happy to cry. Yet, I have learned to embrace and love the lows as much as the highs. As winters chill makes summers warmth so enticing, so too does sadness’ cold embrace make the warmth of laughter and joy all the richer.

I have a brain that likes to think and I let it run away from me sometimes (all the time) but in my heart when my head is quiet, I can hear the gentle song of joy hanging in the air.

Feeling Rough

I started this a couple weeks ago, I came back and all it said was I am feeling rough.

Its amazing how much worse things were about to get. I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about all of this yet, I still feel very in the moment. Things have gotten difficult at work. As I’m sure some of you can tell from my posts lately the spectre of hate has been floating around lately. Things aren’t easy in my personal life either. but I did want to point out something about this whole blogging thing. It really helps. I sometimes go back and read old posts and its interesting how much healing some time can bring. Things aren’t always easy, and I do often wish they were just a little bit easier. But I still continue on.

It’s interesting how being trans was a very consuming thing for a very long time for me. I lived in constant fear, and I was constantly worried about it, like a fly in a quiet room it was always making itself known. The more comfortable I am, the less comfortable people around me are. As if being proudly trans is offensive. As I gain the confidence to be out, and dress how I want and be who I want, and feel as I feel. The more those around me are afraid of it. The quieter the fly is for me the louder it is for everyone else.

Maybe its because the fly is new to them. That this is all new and eventually they won’t notice it. I hope so, because the more people focus on what they can do to make the fly go away instead of what is hard or what they can’t do. The easier its all going to be for everyone.

And maybe that thrice damned fly can finally go away.