Sunday, September 22, 2013

Dead Horses and Glue?

We beat a lot of dead horses here in Cyrsti's a manner of speaking of course. Wow, I wondered do they still make glue out of dead horses? .Not much any more I guess, why make glue when you can make  hot dogs?

The point of all of this babble is comparing the ghost horse looking over my shoulder to a very real phenomena called "trans-security". More precisely insecurity. 

Take last night as an example, the four walls here were killing me as dead as the horse, so I took the horse to one of my regular watering holes for an "adult beverage". Specifically one of the two places I literally transitioned in. As always, I felt the same old insecurities creep in as my ghost horse and I took a seat at a moderately populated bar.

In a fairly short period of time, a couple of other female regulars stopped by to say Hi before they left. The more vocal of the two was simply gushing about the changes I was going through and how well I was doing with them? I'm getting very good at sniffing out a BS compliment versus a honest one and felt she was being real...However...

Somehow I was born and bred never to accept a compliment.  Growing up I learned the hard way a compliment was simply a way of saying "that's alright but can't you do better?"

The two women quickly went on their way leaving me to bask in the warm glow of the knowledge others were seeing and approving the changes I have been going through. Being me though, I didn't take long to think of how far I have come because of where I started.  It's similar to saying your sales are up 100% over last year...when you were closed!

I'm the first to admit, I committed my share of awful, crazy fashion blunders but as I was beating my dead horse thinking about them, I stopped. For once I accepted the compliment and the positive charge to my self esteem and took the moment to bask in the glow.

All too quickly my horse turned to look at it's backside.  That look is a signal to me to me that I could transcend both genders and be labeled as a "horse's behind". For once I grabbed my purse and my glow and headed home.

I wish I could say last night was another huge step in relieving my trans securities but I know it won't. There are simply too many issues out of my control and being ever aware of my surroundings is the right thing to do.

My guess this step is simply another even bigger leap in the transition process.  Bigger, because this involves rebuilding the non gender inner me and linking to the new me. Who would have "thunk" it?

By the way, do you know the best thing about a ghost horse is? They don't eat much!

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