On Conforming

I’ve touched on this topic without ever directly discussing it.

The concept of conformity, of yielding to the group is one that I struggle intimately with.

My very existence sets me apart, my experiences are different then the majority of peoples, my perception of events is changed by my experiences and thus I interpret the world a little differently then the majority of people I interact with.

Yet, I am always acutely aware that it is their world. We live in a cis-centric heteronormative world. No matter how hard I try I can’t escape the fact that I am different, that my life is not the same as most people’s, and as such my experiences and opinions are different and at times difficult and inherently confrontational.

I am challenged at times to keep my opinions to myself, when problems arise that are so gendered in nature that I want to scream “it doesn’t matter” but I have to stop myself, I have to conform to the environment I’m in and understand that the way I perceive the world differs from others. Problems that I see as a result of a specific way of thinking are traditional values passed down generations that can be painful to challenge for others.

I’m sure there are many ways that my opinions and ideas challenge the orthodoxy of others. The fact that I and others like me exist inherently challenges rigid and defined gender roles, ideas of gender, and the role that gender has in our lives.

So conforming is both something I am pushed to, upholding feminine roles and ideals, not challenging sexism, and confining myself to a more narrow few of femininity then I truly believe because the alternative is transphobia. Yet conforming is also somethign I loathe and wish desperately to break free from, because it’s unilateral about appeasing an external world that still won’t like me, while also infringing on my own internal liberty.

Forcing conformity onto those that are different is evidence of a sick and disillusioned people, enamored with an ideal that can’t exist and afraid of a reality that forces them to acknowledge hard truths.

 

Ego sum. ego existo

My very first post, was around the purpose of why I started this whole blog in the first place. I had set out to create a guidebook for trans professionals. Which I would hope is evident from the name of the blog.

What I didn’t know at the time, was how difficult it was going to be to get the life experience necessary to begin to write that guidebook.

Transitioning is hard. It takes all of your courage, and it takes all of your strength. I know I spent my entire life dreaming of a day like today, where I’m sitting at my desk, in my own office, with some time to think on my hands, and a little bit of reflection in my heart. Whether I particularly dreamed of the office is irrelevent, what I’m intending is that I had some comfort and space to just exist.

That’s ultimately what it comes down to, ego sum, ego existo. I am, I exist. The original writing of Descartes, I think therefore I am. I think the original speaks more broadly to my truth. Because I thought long before I was.

Let me explain that better. I spent most of my life in the shadow of myself, trying desperately to unwind myself from the shell that surrounded me. To confuse matters more, we’re more then just ourselves in the single context of our mind. Though the mind is the source of our reason, and thus our self. It is within a social world, a physical interactive world that the self is actualized and realized.

So my own thinking mind was never enough, could never be enough to realize my entire person. It is only within the context of it’s expression truthfully could I begin to know myself and just be.

It’s difficult to explain but the last year has been the process of introducing myself to me and learning to express myself to others, for the first time, openly and honestly. Learning how to understand my emotions, feeling them with the richness and endless possibility that exists, not just repressing and suffering under their load.

Now I feel like I am, and therefore I exist.

 

 

 

Gifts

Walking about, without purpose or doubt

Trepidation and angst, wanting to shout

Fraud, Fraud, Fraud is all that you are

Your gifts are empty, your presence we bar.

 

But the barring won’t come, there’s none who suspect.

That there’s nothing of hope or of joy i inject.

Merely I take, and I squander and ruin.

The opportunities others, would give their whole due in.

 

I can’t give all I should, and try to repent.

but next darken a door, with kindness unspent

 

 

Alone in a Crowd

Upon a long and rocky shore

I looked out screamed ‘at last no more’
A frail and broken cry that grew

Into the sea which never knew

The pain that welled within my heart

Cold and strange, through unknown part

 

The sea so blue, so fresh and true

Couldn’t listen to the words I threw

 

Gentle roaring, surf sublime

My voice catching, salted brine

Ne’er to reach another ear

Though I’m shouting very near
Sea so blue, so brown, so green,

Windows but no truth to glean

Washing forward like a tide

But my truth it won’t abide

 

Though I long to join the sea

My belonging there shall never be.

 

For more of my poems click here.

 

 

 

Feeling Tired

I had a conversation the other day that has really stuck with me. I’ve not been subtle in my desire to connect with other queer professionals in my industry. I had a chance to sit down with one last week.

To say that the conversation was helpful would be a profound understatement. Unfortunately, I’ve been somewhat downtrodden to learn that the frustrations and negative feelings I’ve been having lately are shared.

Some people say misery loves company, I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I certainly wasn’t happy to hear I had company.

One of the things that really has affected me, is that I don’t often feel respected or heard. In a lot of what I do, professionally and personally. I have tried to put myself out there by volunteering and I often find myself even in queer spaces relegated to the corner whenever my opinion differs from anyone else’s.

I’m not a real enough woman to be heard as one, I ‘gave up’ being a man so I’m not worth respecting like one.

I’m lately feeling so very lonely and voiceless. It’s incredibly frustrating. I find my gender identity and ‘differences’ are used as an example as to why I’m not worth listening to, or aren’t part of some team, or aren’t worth listening to long enough to make a point.

I find myself often spoken over and ignored.

The part of my conversation last week that bothered me the most? Thirty years into her career and she’s still struggling with the same thing. With better poise and grace no doubt, but still struggling to be heard and listened to at times.

I’m already so tired, I don’t know if I have that much fight left in me.

 

 

Dealing with the Consequences of Transition

Transitioning is a very consuming thing. You need only read through this blog for the last year and watch as hope turns to despair, despair turns to anguish, and then just sadness.

The hard part is waiting for things to get better. From experience, I understand that when things are tough, they don’t usually stay tough forever, you adapt you grow you learn, Either way, you find ways to deal with your situation.

So I’m in an odd place now. The last year has created a lot of damage in my life. My head spins trying to think of everything that’s changed in the last year. My relationship with my wife has change, in many ways for the better. It took a lot of effort to hold it together while I figured out who I was. My relationship with family has in a lot of ways deteriorated. my career, as has been noted, is basically a flaming shambles, which is fine. Something I hadn’t expected was the role that chosen family would take. Finding a community for the first time was amazing.

As things begin to calm down, and I feel like I have some stability in my own head. I’ve got to deal with the aftermath of the destructive spell. The calm after the storm. Survey the wreckage and discover the new wonders.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that this is all so tough. and even as it gets easier day to day. There’s still the consequences of your previous actions, and meltdowns, and breakdowns and fights and arguments.

But that all just means that I’m living. Only now I have the benefit of being the woman I knew I was while doing it.

On Dysphoria and Modern Trans Youth

I don’t know if I’ve ever actually specifically spoken here about gender dysphoria. I’ve been thinking more about it lately. Not because of my own experiences, but from working with some trans youth.

I’ve started volunteering with a youth group for LGBTQ+ teenagers predominately. There’s several trans kids in the group, they’re all trans boys but what they say gives me a lot to think about.

My own experiences with dysphoria were far less nuanced. It wasn’t something I had time or space to really elaborate on. I always experienced it as a general malaise, a feeling of wrongness, there were parts of my body I didn’t like. I didn’t enjoy what puberty did to me by any stretch of the imagination, and I longed for things I never thought would happen. I thought about my transness in a very general sense, and not hopelessly, but in a way that I understood that these were far off dreams. That transition wasn’t somethign that could be entertained as a teenager.

Transness was viewed as fundamentally wrong in the world that I grew up in. I was in high school ten years ago, and I truly believed that my safety would have been at risk if I had of transitioned. I don’t know what would have happened, but I knew at the time that it would be bad. That I had to hide any sign of femininity from my behavior or I would out myself.

The energy I had to deal with my dysphoria was focused on survival and hiding myself, not growing and realizing myself. So it’s interesting to me how much the world has changed.

I’m in awe of the fact that we live in a world where a fifteen year old comes out, that’s incredibly powerful to me. They are so incredibly brave, I can’t express how proud I am of these kids.

One thing that I have found interesting though, is that they have the opportunity to deal with gender dysphoria in a very different way then I know I did, and from conversation I think other trans folk my age and older did.

Dysphoria to them is a very active and real thing that they’re dealing with, sort of as it happens. They have this very sophisticated way of speaking about it, they don’t just experience gender dysphoria as this overwhelming weight or burden, this foreboding sense of shame or a crushing wrongness. They are able to speak more finely about it, as if it’s something that comes and goes, and rears it’s ugly head but is ultimately a part of their lives that they can deal with.

There might be days that their voice is the concern, and other days it’s not as bad. It might be something about a mannerism or how they speak, or it might just be the pitch of their voice. Either way they’re dealing with their trauma in real time, not repressing it all. So they’re able to take these bite sized problems and address them to give themselves some comfort.

It’s so incredibly inspiring to me that we might see the first generation of trans kids grow into adults without the shame, and fear that I know I grew up with. To come to terms with who they are and to try and deal with the effects of their transness in a safer environment.

Their road is by no means easy, but they’ve got such strength of character already, I hope that they’ll grow into fully realized adults, ready to take on the world.

I don’t have much objectively to say other then, wow, just wow. I am so proud of the steps these kids are taking and it’s inspiring to me that they have the strength to be who they are at an age where I was so afraid.

It’s nothing short of incredible.