The Devil Made me Do It!

The farther along a person travels down their transgender road, the more they learn about the devil (or angel) being in the details. Forget just how you look, every step or mis-spoken communication carries the possibility of an unpleasant experience. An example would be the times I have written long and often about here in Cyrsti's Condo concerning my major learning experiences in woman to woman communication as I Mtf gender transitioned. Briefly, I found myself in a (sometimes) brave new world. On occasion, the whole experience was just brutal as I was more stubborn than good.

As often happens around here, Connie has a current different perspective to pass along:

"Coming home from downtown, today, I couldn't help but stare at a teenage boy as he stepped off the bus. It wasn't so much that I was staring in judgment, but I was just in amazement that he could move at all with his jeans belted around his thighs. I'll admit that I don't understand why he'd want to dress that way, but I suppose there are plenty of people who can't understand why I dress the way I do. In a way, I think he and I are helping each other, in that the more of us who are deemed "non-understandable" and are visibly just going about our lives, the more we are apt to be tolerated - or, better yet, acceptable.

My bus ride on the way downtown this morning was also interesting. There were few seats available where I could sit alone when I boarded, and, while I'm always hesitant to sit down next to someone in order to avoid a possible negative confrontation, I'm always happy to make room for someone to sit next to me.

As the seats filled up with each stop, a young woman, who had been sitting on one of the side-facing seats at the front of the bus, got up and came back to sit next to me. I had actually been trying not to stare at her earlier; she was a beautiful young black woman with magnificent dreadlocks of black and pink. Unbeknownst to her, though, she had saved me from a potentially awkward situation. An old "friend" of mine boarded the bus, and he took the seat she had left. I avoided eye contact with him the whole trip to downtown, hiding partially behind the woman's voluminous dreads.

Why was I hiding from this guy? Well, since coming out to him years ago, he has almost always misgendered and dead-named me. It was always hard enough to put up with when we were alone, but I'm not about to give him the opportunity to embarrass me in front of a whole busload of people!

There's the one you don't know and the one you know, but one needs to be aware that the devil can be found anywhere. Every once in a while, though, you can also find an angel."
Thanks!

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