Giddy With Excitement?

Today I looked back on approximately a half century or so.  When I took my first tentative steps down a long hallway in girls clothes towards a mirror in my parents house. How giddy with excitement I was! Being a girl seemed to be all fun and games and it was in my own little world. Little did I know what the years would bring.

Then fast forward to yesterday in a parking garage. I needed to take the fastest route (elevator on a ten degree day) to the third floor of the garage. As the door slowly opened, I found myself face to face with two very sketchy characters staring back at me. Probably the worst part was they were standing behind me at the very back of the car so I was expecting almost anything as they were headed towards the third floor too. Finally, one of the longer elevator rides I have ever taken ended without incident as the three of us went our separate ways.

Little did I know then (like Connie's comments on a former blog post) how utterly strange it would feel to dance with or even kiss a man. Unlike Connie though, I didn't have to attempt to dance in heels as I was wearing flats and men went out of my "pre Liz" life almost as fast as they came in. As I was fortunate to happen upon a small group of lesbian cis-women friends who I blame for making me the person I am today :).

The experience of hanging with them was new and exciting as I could for the most part sit back and watch the genders interact without much of the normal sexual tension. I quickly gained so much respect from my friends I was invited to join them on lesbian get together's (although my presence wasn't universally accepted on occasion.) I even was picked as one of my friends fave "wing persons" when we went out since I was such a social critter.

Such is life, and we all know it is but a circle if we can live long enough. As I look back on the early days of the exciting strange feel of girls clothes and have known where the crazy journey would take me, would I have done it?

If I had truly had a choice - no.  But seeing as I didn't really have one (to turn a phrase) if life gives you nylons, wear them.

Finally, I have no idea why I was chosen to walk this transgender path I have tripped and fallen down so many years. I suppose when I end this existence and head to the other side, someone will explain-or slap me up the side of the head- for being so stubborn and dense most of my life. How could I  not realize who I really was?

Duh! It was right in front of me all of the time.

Low Hanging Fruit

Often when I hear or read about some off the wall-po dunk LGBTQ hating politician, I wonder what thought process led them to their conclusions.

While I have often not been accused off being the sharpest tack in the box, I used to think someday in the future I would read about some of the staunchest LGBT opponents coming out of their closets one at a time.

While that idea remains in my noggin though, another is taking it's place in my number one spot.

The problem with career politicians is just that-career.  Once some bumkin gets elected, he needs to keep getting reelected to put food on the table. In order to do it, why not go for the most clannish group to attract-the Evangelicals and the like. After all, you can pull almost anything out of the Bible you need to, to fit the occasion.

Just get a few bible thumper preachers on your side preaching the evils in today's world and there you have it. All of the sudden the LGBTQ community are the bad guys and the transgender folk in particular.

No offense to the gay and lesbian community, but you can hide where transgender women for the most part just can't.

So all these crazy redneck Republican politicians have an easy political base and aren't afraid to exploit it. Low hanging fruit indeed.

Mammogram III

If you have never gone through a mammogram, don't get too excited about missing something special.

Once I got the nursing staff to understand MR. Hart was not there for a mammogram, I got to sit in a semi cold room and strip to my waist wearing just one of those thin hospital gowns. Right now I can hear a chorus of "Welcome to our world" from all my cis women friends and readers.

Since this was my third mammogram, I did notice the machine seemed to be a little more high tech and something out of a Star Wars movie.  A cool beast until it puts its icy plastic grips on your breasts. All in all though just a pinch here and there which is definitely superior to the alternative (breast cancer).

At my age and family history, I know I am certainly at risk and I had myself halfway believing I would be pulled off HRT when the Doctor asked for a couple extra X-rays. But it turned out she was just looking closer because the VA had asked for a total exam instead of a screening.

And the best news of all came when the Doctor smiled and said "Everything was OK!"