I Plead the 50th?

Actually Connie does: "IF I were to attend a 50th reunion (two years away for mine), I would choose to go to the one for the school I did not graduate from - the one where I had grown up with so many people. I did a pretty good job of not establishing relationships, other than with my wife, after moving to Seattle. Even though I had gained some notoriety on the football field, I played a position that was not so glamorous. My ending up at the bottom of a pile of humanity at the end of each play did little to endear myself to the humanity of my classmates in the stands - or in the halls the following Monday. Actually, the same was true at my old school; I planned it that way. I was trying to fly under the radar, and football was mostly a decoy. I have to laugh each time I think about it, as the kid who was the quarterback, and the best athlete in the school, I have always suspected to be gay. We were, by no means, close friends, but I could sense that he was keeping a well-guarded secret, just as I was. If there were only one person with whom I might have a reunion, it would be him. Our miseries would make great company.

A center of attraction? I admit to having that desire - at least my musical self does. I started my musical "career" behind a drum set (which is usually set up behind the rest of the band). Playing the drums was yet another decoy. My "hamming it up", though, eventually moved me to center stage. Over the years, I have often imagined myself stepping onto the stage with the band at a reunion. I could express myself there so much better than in any other way, and the edge of the stage is sort of a force field - one for which I have control. Standing above a crowd of vaguely familiar and aging faces - the men fat and bald, and they women wrinkled and gray - singing from my heart and soul, seems quite a satisfactory prospect.

None of this will happen. Why should I care that people see who the awkward, enigmatic, and somewhat withdrawn boy turned out to really be? Who I am now is of little note to anyone but myself, and any accolades for my "courage" to be myself now are unwanted. My courage was demonstrated by what I did to hide myself those many years ago, but I certainly don't need to reminisce on that. Besides, nobody hires bands for reunions anymore; just DJs. People are more interested in those things recorded long ago than what is live - and alive - in the present."

Thanks Connie (again)!

No Body Liked You Anyhow.

This happened to me several times after I transitioned and came out to several people. They told me they could see a friendlier more comfortable me. (Even though my insides were twisted in knots.)

It was like the weight of the world was taken from my shoulders. So I could relax into a life I was evidently supposed to have lived from the beginning.

Of course I had all this paranoia about how I looked when it seemed most everyone else was concerned with how I felt.

Then, I began to wonder how different my life would have been as a transgender woman if I had started to live it earlier? How different would my life had been if I had not been under the early cross dressing pressures or just worrying later about the ramifications of being transgender itself?

Night and day to be sure because I had this mean streak to me, along with a touch of crazy. Out running trans is tough. Looking for each and every macho way to prove a non existent masculinity.

So it's no wonder I didn't have many close friends ever, because I didn't allow myself any. Non one was allowed inside "the rock" that was me.

What a shame the cup was half empty during the years of my life I spent in hiding or half full that I finally learned the truth and turned my life around.

So I am proof a life can turn on a dime, sometimes you just have to stay on top of the dime for decades.

Jeepers Creeps II

Received plenty of response to my Jeepers Creepers post yesterday in Cyrsti's Condo. To refresh your memory the post was about a guy who was making me feel very uneasy at a restaurant the other night.

The first from Jeni: "I'm coming up with a different scenario.
The guy hates trans, and was staring at you, not sure if you were trans or not.
If he had made up his mind that you were trans, then trans hate crime murder jumps to the top of the list for outcomes."

Geeze I hope not!

The second from Mandy: "I hope the creep didn't follow you...I suspect I might have driven to the nearest police station."

Mandy, even though Liz wasn't watching to see if he followed, I was!!!!

The third from Connie: "I was shopping in a Wallgreen's one night, and a guy (unsuccessfully) tried to be discreet as he followed me around the store. I, of course, carefully ignored him. I wasn't about to leave the store until he was long gone, but he remained long after I had gathered my products for purchase. I decided to stop in front of the "incontinence" display (surely, that would make me appear to be unattractive, so I thought). He showed himself at the end of the isle, though, stared at me for a half-a-minute, and then approached me.

"You're so beautiful, blah blah blah," he said. With a half-smile, I thanked him and then picked up a package of Depends, pretend to examine it. "I don't usually do this kind of thing, but I was wondering if I could buy you a drink," I heard from behind me. Without looking at him, I politely said "No, thank you," and moved down the aisle away from him. He followed me, keeping some distance, and I could tell he wasn't ready to take "No" for an answer. Before he could say any more, I turned around - still with the Depends in my hand - and said, "I've really got to get home now!" I don't know if he understood that maybe I was having a crisis situation, but he did stop following me. 

Then, I began stalking him, just to make sure he was leaving the store. I watched him as he went to the check-out counter to ask for a bottle of cheap whiskey. Was that what he meant by buying me a drink, I thought. Did he expect me to go out in the alley and share swigs with him before he got me drunk enough to give in to him? He was creepy enough that I thought he might have even been turned on by my expressed incontinence, and maybe he'd even like to be peed on. Anyway, the threat was over when I watched him leave with his bottle, crossing the busy street to a safe-enough distance so that I could get to my car parked in the lot. During my drive home, I came up with a better answer to his advances. I should have said that my husband was waiting for me in the car, and that he was probably already getting his temper up because I had been so long in the store. That's what I'll say next time, and it's a matter of "when", not "if", that it will.

BTW, I left the Depends on the counter; they were only a prop! The whole experience was worthy of peeing my pants, though - both out of fear and anger."

That's scary!

I always operate out of the possibility most guys know I am transgender and go from there. Plus, I am really fortunate these days to nearly never be alone much which gives me strength in numbers of course.

In a future post, I will have to pass along a few stories from the Witch's Balls I attended here in Cincinnati. Nothing dangerous because most witches don't have balls :) just fun interaction with a couple men.