A broken form, held together by the sinews of lost regret
Queer lament, still no sign of heaven sent
Tear myself apart as I realise that it’s watching me, that cracking haunted mirror
Shards of it come crashing down and I see my face
I replace the scattered remnants with my skin to reflect the bloody truth that I know
It is a brand new dawn, light grows and flickers from the rising sun
I’ve begun a journey of a thousand steps
If I take just one, will the weight of your gazes make me succumb?
I don’t think so. I don’t think so.
Did you hear when the glass finally shattered?
Constant voices that have grown so loud
I’m drowning out the facts against the tide inside my broken mind
To find my soul is battered
I take all my pain, live it all again, go insane
So tell me who is to blame, for this natural evolutionary consequence?
If God were here and said that we all mattered
Would you turn your cheek and give in to His grace?
The price of love should surely rise above the space you’d have our ashes scattered
So get on your knees, let the prayer appease
Where is sin? It’s under your own skin
All I’ve got is life on my side, I let it in.
Reading trans blogs is so illuminating, subjective perspective of such personal and intimate stories, shared. Together we seem to swirl around a crystal of energy that represents truth without answers. Every so often one of us grabs it, only for it to appear in another place. Like all things in life, it is transient.
Here is a riddle – How can the truth be a lie? The truth is not there to come to be known, it exists regardless of awareness, though the spirit calls for it to be found. If one’s essence has been found in truth, how human that we err and convince ourselves it must be wrong. Truth is neither right nor wrong, simply it is.
I’m so grateful to share in the empathy of those in the early days of transition, the typecast whirlwind of self-exploration, emotional reconstitution, stress, fear, revelation and joy. Repeat.
Through this I am struck once more by greater personal understanding through concise concepts and an ego-less attempt to get to grips with this whole gender incongruity issue.
Dysphoria is not going to go away on its own, that’s established. It may always exist, in fact it may be more intense but less frequent post-transition. So, uh, do something about it. I find it difficult to accept the brain wants certain conditions to be met for dysphoric feeling to go away, yet I know that living freely in a non-repressed, self known gender identification alleviates some of the symptoms. However, it is going to take a lot more to really quell that voice.
It is dangerous to say definitively that HRT will abate any of these automatic thoughts, in fact I will go into HRT expecting absolutely nothing to change, because if the hormones didn’t work, then I would have to find another way to combat the dysphoric grind. In assuming nothing will change unless I personally come to terms with it in my heart of hearts and express myself without quarter, I hope it will mean less emotional pain in the long run.
It’s about trying to get past the perceptions and aesthetics. In transition, of course you are probably going to be a dolt, make a lot of mistakes, feel hopelessly lost and confused in a seemingly new world. Each screw up is a better lesson learned than a constant pass without question. Of course you will look, sound and act stupid, people look, sound and act stupid all the time. But you will learn. ‘Character’, styles, mannerisms, that stuff will all come in the ways that are wanted and needed in time, practice and experience. It will take years. Anticipate and accept all the mad horrors. Revel in a future of concepts not yet dreamed of. This is the plunge.
The other thought I had was so dumb I just have to shake my head – I want this. I’ve spent this whole blog arguing from the perspective of needs, from medical pragmatism, from self-affirmation of unquenchable human spirit, but I’ll say it again – I want this. I want to be whoever I am. Yeah, the ‘who I am’ who isn’t dysphoric, but mostly the ‘who I am’ that I am. I want it all just as much as I need it, perhaps this is a product of the same voice with different tones.
I’m not ready yet to scream from the rooftops about my feminine graces, for now I attempt to carry myself with as much candour as I can to stave off the full brunt of constant embarrassment in my transgirl form. Who I am as a woman is the product of the attitude I’ve always carried minus the unavoidable effects of male conditioning. I find explanations usually get blurry and contradictory after a while, even when cutting out traits and expression as specific gender identifiers. It is not understood with words.
Rightly I’ve been reading a lot of posts about getting these labels out of our lives, or sticking with the ones that give us a feeling of security. ‘Female’ is a label that works comfortably for me, but I won’t be so rigid that I will let that term define who I am. I want to embrace the cure, to be a self-loving person, before I am a self-hating woman. Then a self-loving woman too.
I don’t think I’m the only trans person who has stayed up until 2am screaming and crying at transition video’s the same way those people screamed and cried at the one’s before them. It’s normal to think you aren’t going to make it, plenty of others have succeeded where they thought they would fail, why should you be any different? You can’t be expected to appreciate the view from your final stop on these first tentative steps of the journey.
Is that why you are here, to go on your journey? You’ll have to leave a lot behind, and you can never come back. How do you know you are ready to go?…You’re here aren’t you?
At the moment, I have been prescribed two weeks of unwinding by my therapist before I look forward. I already know the plan. I’m taking several months off for ‘medical leave’ to transition more ‘fully’, because that’s what this is – medicine, therapy, whatever. I’m going to transition hard, whatever that is, upturning stones and baring my soul fully to the world, to get to the place I need to be.
I’m being clear with my therapist, I’m 29 years old, I’m not a student, I’m not older and more financially secure with family stuff. No, I’m in my prime, I need employment. I need to transition to a point where I can feel confident in myself to present adequately enough to actually land a job. I don’t have time to screw around for another year to get a prescription that could make or break my future. I’ll find a way regardless, nothing can stop that of which its time has come.
I’m also going to Barcelona for a week in July and I’m absolutely petrified about so many aspects, especially safety and airports, but it yet another test to overcome, whatever doesn’t kill me… I figure it’s easier to deal with transition terrors if I work backwards in pain. SRS is worse than top surgery, is worse than electrolysis, is worse than hormones, is worse than going full time, is worse than coming out etc. Knowing the big difficulties to overcome in the future make each other difficulty on the way smaller and more bearable by comparison. Makes going outside at all a lot less insecurity laden.
Anyway, I plan on getting some better video equipment and maybe upgrading my blog, make it clearer, more precise, so as to benefit greater anyone who does so from these kinds of narratives. Anything I can do to help, any suggestions or insane public gender experimentation projects, video’s, tips, tricks, hacks, anything really, get in touch, because I am in!
Initiate! Bring it onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!
Oh, and I changed my name, so let me say this legally…