Tears

Little boys are taught that tears are wrong, that only girls cry. In men, tears are considered a sign of weakness (there are exceptions, but only a few). I was thinking about tears this morning watching "Sunday Morning", there was a story on about the Make a Wish foundation and it brought me to tears. I'm sure that a lot of you may dismiss this a a small thing or just a side effect of taking hormones, in a way you are correct, I'm certain that the hormones are at least partially responsible. This is a good thing! I relish being able to cry, it sounds silly, I know, but for as long as I can remember I was unable to cry, regardless of the circumstance. Cutting onions aside, tears did not come to my eyes and I was poorer for it.

Over the years I remember instances where I desperately wanted to cry and couldn't. I remember the feeling of extreme restraint and control. I don't have  the words to explain how difficult it was, I had no way to expel or release the emotions churning and roiling beneath the surface, so they sat there and poisoned my emotional well being. this affected every part of my life and my relationships.

I can cry again, from happiness, or sadness, from frustration or relief. I am happy to cry....

Hugs...

Vicki

A long time coming

I was thinking back to one of my previous employers. It was a computer manufacturer and I did tech support for them. The reason this is important to me is that here was the first time I ever met a trans person. Meeting her was not an awaking for me, there were no ah-ha moments or the recognition of a kindred spirit. I was not ready to acknowledge what she represented in my own life, so I did what we all tend to do when we are confronted with things that make us uncomfortable, I marginalized her. It's something that I am not proud of, it wasn't by any overt or direct act on my part, it was the jokes when she wasn't around, we all joined in and laughed. I make no excuse, blame no one but myself for my actions and all these years later I am still embarrassed by those actions. Now don't get the wrong idea, I was by no means the only one cracking wise, but I joined in, I was part of the crowd. She came to work for us in 2000 or 2001 (still terrible with dates), this was a much less tolerant time than we live in now and our generation is one that remembers Uncle Milty, Geraldine, and Bosom Buddies. Where trans folk and cross dressers were subjects of humor. The company we worked for went out of their way to make sure that we were prepared to deal with the person about to join us, we were required to attend diversity training, a very forward thinking concept at the time. A lot of what we were taught at that time is still with me all these years later.

In the years since I have grown as a person and I like to think I am much more accepting than I was then. There is still that other part of me that understands when someone looks at me and feels uncomfortable, because I felt uncomfortable in that same circumstance. Having said that, I will not excuse anyone for being deliberately hurtful,and that includes me. I know that I did not do anything to directly affect this person in her attempt to live her truth, but by my actions on the sidelines I helped to perpetuate the stereo types so prevalent at the time. I can only hope that by living my truth and being honest in my own life that I can sway someone to see the truth of our lives. The only truth that really matters, that we are happy in who we are.

I am happy in who I am... I hope all of you find that happiness in yourselves...

Hugs...

Vicki

A first for me

I started dressing and going out in public as Vicki a while ago, I don't have the exact date because I tend to not tack these sorts of things. That's my nature. If I want to remember a specific day or date I have to make a concerted effort to do so. I'm on hormone replacement therapy, a milestone in the life of a trans person, I couldn't tell you the date without doing the research. How I am now, how I feel now, these are more important things than the dates in question. I know that what I am doing is right for me, more than that it is something that I have to do to be the person I should always have been. I still have my doubts, I expect that I always will, but then how is that different from everyone else?

What started this train of thought was a shopping trip I made today. Now I have been shopping a number of times at all sorts of stores. In this case it was one of those warehouse stores. We had run out of kitty litter other things and needed more. While I was in the store, wandering around, I decided to look for mozzarella, my wife is making lasagna tomorrow and we needed some. I rounded the corner at the cheese isle and there, right at the end I needed was an individual dressed as a biker talking to a woman who had a couple of kids with her. I am used to getting looks, I am tall, and as I said in a previous post, I do not easily pass. This time it was different, I can't put a finger on why, but it was. For the first time ever I felt palatable disgust from another individual. Now it may have been my imagination and I have to admit that nothing was said to me by this individual and other that the usual double-takes as I walk by no other reactions. I do have to say that it really shocked me, my reaction shocked me. I felt myself at the edge of tears as I drove home, that was how strong my reactions was.

As a group, we face the possibility of attack for simply being. We are subjects of ridicule and disdain. Society sees us as the punchline in a joke. Like all such groups, we are portrayed are sub-human and as such we do not share in the same rights and privileges as the rest of society. In our group we have those that rise to the top and are able to excel in spite of our perceived lack of status and in our group there are those that due to situation or circumstance, sink to the bottom. The majority of us live in the area between the two extremes wishing for nothing more than happiness and acceptance. Our measure of success is not standing out but to blend in. We want to be seen as the gender we are changing ourselves into. I have decided that for me that is no longer possible. I don't mean that I can't pass, or that I refuse to pass, but rather that passing is not the goal, being me is the goal. I do not want to dissapear, I want to stand and be counted, I am trans, I am happy, and I refuse to fade away.

I am lucky, I found acceptance, in my wife, daughters, parents, siblings, and the friends I have made along the way. So on this evening before Thanksgiving I want to say thank you to all of those wonderful people in my life that are willing to accept me as I am, flaws and all. Know that I love and cherish every one of you.

Hugs....

Vicki

Please Remember

Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance, this week is Transgender Awareness Week. I want you to think about that for a minute. Think about the reasons that we have to have them. Today is used to acknowledge the loss of those of us who were killed and taken from this life way to soon. This week is because there are countries where it is illegal for me to even exist. There are countries where I would be forced to have surgery in order to live my truth. There are places right here in the United States where we are being attacked viciously for simply existing.

Please remember, remember that we did not ask to be as we are we are simply trying to live our lives as happily and authentically as we can...

Hugs....

Vicki

Doubt

I started this evening's post without a subject. My intent was to allow my mind to wander freely without any constraints and just put down what I want. I got the idea from a book I'm reading called "Writing Down the Bones". I'm trying to jump start my creative side, I have a book in me somewhere and it needs to come out and see the light of day. This blog is just one avenue for me to express myself. This is a timeline for me, a sting of thoughts that reflect my state of being at the time I write them. Some days I am happier than others, and some days I'm more reflective that others, or deep, or silly, or whatever... You know what I mean.

Over the years I have lived with doubts, I doubted my abilities as an athlete, thus I did not continue swimming, I gave up when it was too difficult to make it to practice. I did the same academically, I gave up because I convinced myself that I wasn't good enough. I have consistently been my own worst enemy, sabotaging my own life and happiness. Now I bet you are wondering why I'm confessing my failures? Well folks, it has to stop sometime, and for me that time started when I accepted that I was trans. Well almost, it really took until recently for me to come to the understanding of what I was experiencing. I doubt myself every day, in my personal life as well as my professional one, this is nothing new for me. What is new for me is the understanding that I am the source of the doubt, this is not some external source telling me what a failure I am.

You may be asking yourself what this has to do with being Trans, on a very basic level, it is my doubt in myself that allows my fear to overcome my need to be myself. In other words, I am afraid so I don't do, and because I don't do, I am afraid. You can put whatever action in that last statement and it would be accurate. In my case, I am afraid to come out at work and because I am not out at work, I am afraid. This is very much a "Catch 22" type situation. Does this mean that I will come out at work, yes it does, the thing to work out now it the timing. Timing is everything.

That's all for now....

Hugs...

Vicki

Sunday evening ramblings

Ah, Sunday evening... a time for relaxation and contemplation. I find them rather trying. I've indicated before that I am not out at work, so for me Sunday evening is a melancholy time, Monday morning means that I have to put on my other self. Now I know I have been dressing and presenting male my entire life, how is this any different than the previous fifty or so years? Well, it is, it's the idea that I have to stop being Vicki tomorrow, even if only for the eleven or so hours. I'm lucky in that I only have to work four days a week and that I get home early enough that I have the opportunity to be myself after work. I still can't stop feeling sad.

I'm going to cut this one short...

Good Night all...

Vicki 

Time to play catch-up

Well, I just took a look at how long is been since my last post, better than a year. That's way too long! I will still only write when I have something to say, I expect that will be more often than once a year.

A lot has happened over the year, a change in employment, coming out to friends and family, as well as starting hormones. A busy year indeed. This past year has shown me who my friends are and the strength of character and love of my family.

To begin with the job thing, I will keep it simple and straightforward,  I made a mistake, I was let go, I found new employment. Now I'm sure you all know that is really not all that simple, but the important part was not the job loss, rather it was what it allowed me to do. For the first time I was able to spend extended periods of time presenting as female. When I wasn't interviewing, I was Vicki. It was frightening. I did what I could to change my appearance. I wore a wig, kept my head down, never looked anyone in the eye. Every time I went out I expected to have someone call me out. I did it though, I had to. I was never confronted, I did get some looks, and I'm sure was the subject of  some jokes behind shielded hands or after I left. I am not the most feminine looking woman in the world, I am too tall (5' 10", thank god for old age, I was 6' tall as a teenager), my hands are too big, and my face too masculine. These are all things that I cannot change so I accept them and make the best of what I have,  I have great legs! Eventually I lost the fear and now I go into the world proudly and without the wig and only minimal makeup. I am who I am and I am confident of my ability to go out into the world at large as female now. All of this was due to the loss of my job, as devastating as it was at the time, I am better off as a result.

I won't mince words here, coming out is the hardest thing I have ever done, and it's also been one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Coming out to my wife was hard and easy at the same time. I was still trying to figure out who I was and she was with me on that journey.  I'm not saying that it was without it's bumps and hiccups. There were tears and recriminations and we both had to come to terms with the new realities and dynamics of our relationship. I have to say that if anything, my love for my wife had grown stronger than at any point in our relationship. My kids came next, I handled it poorly with my oldest daughter, initially it was hard for her to accept. My younger daughter, probably because of personal experience and exposure was better able to accept my transgender status. I am proud of my daughters, they are accepting and supportive and I love them bother dearly. The hardest of all of these conversations had to be with my mother. Now some of you might think that the manner in which I told her lacked courage, maybe it did, but I like to think that it allowed her to come to grips with what I was telling her without putting her in the position of having to come up with an immediate response to my news. I sent her an email. I spent days writing it, had my wife proofread it, and revised it a dozen times before I sent it off. The most difficult day of my life was the one I spent waiting for her to respond. It was a work day for me as well, making it even more difficult. When her response came it was in a text message, it contained three simple words, I love you. Her biggest complaint was that it took me so long to tell her. Since my coming out to my mother, I have told my siblings and stepmother; all of whom were understanding and accepting. I don't want to marginalize how important their acceptance was to me, the responses of my family members is overwhelming and heartwarming. There are so many heartbreaking stories of trans men and women being ostracized and disowned by their families that I can't tell you how much my family's acceptance means to me. The last person I have to tell is my father, another difficult conversation for me. It will have to wait for the time being. 

The hormones have been an eye opening experience. In some ways I feel that the mix of hormones in my system are now as they should have been all along, they feel right, I feel right. 

Now, it's getting late, I'll be back soon...

Vicki!