Just "Ranting" Away

I'm sure most of you noticed I had my "panties in a bunch" when I wrote about Evangelicals, politicians and the Radical Right last week.

While I still stand behind the post, the fact still remains I was coming off of four plus days of two different sicknesses and I am the worst baby. And of course I received comments...

Firstly, I received a comment I won't repeat verbatim (because I couldn't verify it's source) viciously slamming American women as a whole. While most certainly I have met my share of the insecure, vicious women the writer described, I have also met my great majority of the most giving persons I have ever met are/were women. I shall defer again to my erstwhile "co blogger" Connie who commented a true transgender transition is never done. I agree because of the very few MtF transgender women I have ever met who truly carry a feminine inner soul-no matter how much money they spend to look the part.

Now, having said all of that, I have always written of my early lessons with other women in a feminine world. I learned early to beware of where the knives were hidden and to watch my back.

As far as Evangelicals go Paula, I think the definition has been distorted over here (Paula is from the UK.) Everyone needs a label and it is sad the Evangelical label has been slapped on so many radical right causes. Yes, it is sad too that somewhere along the line so many fine Christian teachings have been tossed aside in this latest barrage.

So, I am sorry if I ranted too much!

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!"

We Got Mail

In response to a couple of recent posts, first from Jeni on transgender PTSD:

"Post Transitioning Stress Disorder
I don't see it as being merely post.
I see it as applying before, during, and after.
One only has to look at how the trash tabloids LOVE outing and demeaning post-op transsexuals, who have successfully transitioned and managed to make a career as a woman. 

Each time the smear campaign is carried out, it's sole intent is to sell news copy, and bash transsexuals for being different.
And what happens to most such women after being outed? There's extremely rarely any follow-up."

And most likely some of the effect undoubtedly carries through to the trans girl on the street and the public at large.

And Connie added : (From an interaction she had had previously with a man) "In the case I was describing, I would say it was as much his disorder as it was mine. I don't think he was trying to hit on me (I've had that experience many times before), but he was trying so hard to show me he was accepting of my gender expression that it left me with the feeling of being "less than". His intentions were good, but his ignorance made the whole thing condescending. I always reply with a polite "thank you" in such cases, but I often walk away thinking that I should have provided some education (not always a polite thing to do). 

The fact that I recognized his remarks as being condescending may well be PTSD, but anything that interrupts my feminine identity and reminds me of a self I have tried so desperately to leave behind would do that, as well. I have managed to at least ignore those obvious things, such as having male genitals or the necessity to shave my face, to the point that they are annoyances I must endure. I rarely allow these things to be a reminder of my male self because I have control over those feelings. I cannot, however, predict what and how someone else will say or do something. Try as I might to be prepared for someone else's reaction to me, being cognizant of that which may burst my bubble is a hindrance to my own self-identity, so I choose to ignore even the possibility of that happening...until it does. Maybe that is the PTSD you're referring to"

Yes, I do think it all plays in Connie because once we begin to face the world as trans women, we have to learn the "dance" all women have to face.

Danica Roem

From Virginia and the Metro Weekly:

Danica Roem, a journalist for the Montgomery County Sentinel and a lifelong resident of Manassas, Va., has announced she will run as a Democrat against longtime Republican Del. Bob Marshall (R-Manassas, Manassas Park, Bull Run), who is known best for his socially conservative views, including his vehement opposition to LGBT rights. Roem previously wrote for the Gainesville Times and the Prince William Times, covering local issues for those publications.

“I know the issues of the district really well, and I want to make a big, big difference when it comes to transportation, economic development, and education,” says Roem. “And at the same time, while we focus on fixing Route 28, bringing big-dollar jobs up to Innovation Technology Park, and filling the office vacancies along Manassas Drive, we have got to make Prince William County the most inclusive place it can be. And that goes for everyone: no matter who you love, what you look like, or where you come from.”

For more, go here.

PTSD?

Post Transitioning Stress Disorder? First of all, PLEASE do not take this post at all as a slight to all of our service men and women (past and present) who suffer from PTSD! You all know since I am a transgender veteran, I would be the last to go down that road.

What I mean is, when you encounter a group of people who begin to laugh or snicker, do you wonder like I do is it about me? And of course a bad couple of bath room experiences are sure to imprint their memories in your mind. This comment from Connie comes very close to what I am talking about:

"I find it interesting that people with whom we have contact may be more routinely accepting of us than we are of ourselves. While others may not even think twice in thinking of us to be women, we are still cognizant of their simple use of the right pronoun. It's probably because there is still always the chance that somebody won't use the right pronoun that makes us so aware. Could it have come to the point where society is evolving faster than we are? Living in liberal Seattle, I have experienced very few "mis-genderings", but it has stung - and lingered - when it has happened. More disturbing than that, though, is the obvious condescension that often is the result of political correctness. Even with good intention, though, I am sometimes left with mixed feelings when someone treats me based on a stereotype they have. 

Recently, I have had someone assume that I was a burlesque drag performer after I told them I was a singer. Another "friend" suggested we could vacation together in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, because they have an LGBT community there - along with a thriving drag club. Just last night (New Year's Eve), I was showered with compliments by a man, but I could finish each one of them with "for a man". That is, "You're gorgeous" (for a man), "You have great legs" (for a man), "What a figure" (for a man). True, I was a bit more "glamorized" for the occasion, but he said things to me that he wouldn't have said to a cis-woman - not in good taste, anyway. Later on, when the clock hit midnight, he found his way to give me a kiss, but I could just feel that he did so with the thought that it would make my night. I was thankful that I was quick enough to do the old head-turn to avoid being kissed on the lips. His (insincere) flattery got him nowhere with me.

 I could go on to consider his latent homosexuality, made more palatable by hooking up with a girl with a penis, but that's another subject (although there is really no way for anyone to know if I still have one of those or not if I keep my pants on). It does speak to stereotypes, however, and how, as well as why, we are treated by others."

Notice Connie's addition "for a man." Is that a form of PTSD?

Reality?

From Connie:

Reality shows.....Mostly show, not much reality. I've given up watching them, and even my curiosity toward this one is not enough to cause me to bother looking for a stream. The only reality I can vouch for is my own, but it still leads me to believe that whatever causes one to have an identity inconsistent with their "assigned" gender is a lifetime condition. I am not completely satisfied with the term, "transition", anyway, but I definitely don't believe that it can be used in the past tense - nobody really finishes a gender transition. I have been considering using the word, "transposition", instead, for my own situation.

 I think that it more accurately describes my own gender process, as its definition can be a reordering or realigning that causes change; not only the change itself. Besides, my fondness of making plays on words leads me to coin a new one: "Trans-position". That is, the relative place one might find herself on the sliding gender scale. I know that I have been sliding on that binary scale my whole life, slowly moving past the center-point toward female enough that I could never slip back so far as to be on the male side again. I know this because I have reached an awareness of self without external influence, and I have accepted the fact that I am who I am based on where I am now, as well as have been in the past.

 I'm confident, as well, that where I'll be in the future will be determined by who I am at the time - not as a result of any chemical or surgical influence. I haven't entirely ruled those influences out (health reasons are impediments at this time), but any decision I may make toward them will always be so much more with consideration to who I am than what I think I need. "What I think I need" is the core of the trouble ahead of which you speak. My word play will call that "Trans-supposition".

I guess my "transposition" came during the years I decided to not be a cross dresser-but a woman. I had to see if it was possible at all and did I want to do the Mtf transition. It's tough to follow because  so many people get caught up in the semantics.  Take the show for example, not once did they allude to the fact the dictated weight loss had any think to do with appearance instead of a healthy major surgery. Which, I thought was good. 

Plus, as you said in essence, gender is more of a slippery slope than any of us imagined. I too, have no desire to go back to my male side-no matter how much easier life would be.  (Perceived)

I was lucky. I had friends who could see the real me and kick me down the slippery slope, off the cliff and catch me at the bottom.

Finally, I like the comment "No one ever really finishes a gender transition." 

Ready or Not-Here We Go!

2017 has made it's appearance.

For me, not a real good one so far, but we all know that will change.

New Years Eve turned out to be windy with rain and snow mixed, so we just stayed home and watched The Ohio State Buckeyes get positively demolished by the Clemson Tigers. The pot of home made chili tasted great though!

Later on that evening, Liz's son came home very sick and managed to pass it along to Liz early today. (At press time, I am surviving well-knock on wood!)

So, our gift certificates I purchased for New Years Eve are still good of course, my new dress can be worn for another occasion and life goes on.