Monday, February 26, 2007

Until I open my mouth

Live journal is less and less appealing to me these days. I started the whole lj thing not to write-but to read my friend's journals and it looks like that's how it ended up, after all.

So I suppose I've "formally" given myself permission to write about "non-transition" related things in this journal (whatever the hell that means) and what a virgo I am, btw. I do so little of it (writing) that these days that where ever it comes out, I'll take it.

I spoke to a friend from my graduate program who is currently living outside the US. During the seemingly short two years in our program, we became very close. She moved out of the country during the same month I began taking T and has not been present to witness any of my physical changes. We recently were able to talk over the phone and she brought up some thoughts and some fears and some things that we were never able to discuss regarding my transition. Some of these things were--I'm sure--made stronger by the fact that someone very important in her life was discussing transition as well. I don't often know how to respond when people, especially women talk about their feelings of loss. I suppose this applies for my family as well.

This is probably when I should find a way to talk about myself...NOW...


Lately I find it difficult to talk about gender in concrete ways, like I used to. I wonder why it was or is difficult to talk about over the computer--to try to put into words for her how some, but mostly nothing has changed about me. Maybe, I'm thinking, I too often let my body do the talking...which usually doesn't lead to much conversation these days. I suppose there is either too much noise (at the center where my body seems to be open for public comment) or silence (in other spaces where I feel like my gender identity and presentation are this strange pink elaphant in the room).

And, I most of the rest of the world, I'll never be fully understood until I open my mouth.

Now I don't have to think so much about gender or talk so much about gender because i make more sense to myself now. Maybe because it is still hard. I hope that changes soon, but we all know how goddamn long I take to process anything *winking at Carrie*

And, sometimes I still feel the need to sugar coat the last 10-11 months. I often still think that I am the only one who thinks that this is hard, or awkward, or lonely, or hurtful, or confusing. And, of course the fears that those feelings invalidate who i am prevents me from ever talking about them much. I suppose all I can say is that, IF my life is better, it certainly didn't get any less complicated! Here' s hoping for a little less fear, a little less awkwardness and a lot more self-acceptance.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

A seed inside

"A seed inside
these genes
I will always be
your daughter
a seed inside
this history
i will always be
your son"

From the short film, 'a seed in you inside your mother's womb'

Saturday, February 24, 2007


Time is not something that I've ever really had a good perspective or understanding of. I frequently over-estimate and under-estimate how long it will take me to do something, when I will arrive somewhere or leave some place. I've also never been one who is good at waiting. Sure, I like to say that I accept the pace at which the world and my life moves and that I've made peace with this and let the universe take care of me. But the truth is I fucking hate waiting.

When I'm waiting I obsess over time. Counting out the many scenarios: So if Blue Cross Blue Shield pre-approves me on the first time and that takes 8 weeks, and then Dr. Kuzon's office gets me a date within 6 weeks this means I could have surgery ___________ (fill in the blank with a new date that seems farther and farther away each time I make the calculation) I think about the surgery scheduler writing a letter, about the doctor signing the letter, I think about UM-GCS adding additional attachments, I think about what the postal worker who picks up the mail looks like, and wonder and imagine how big of a stack of papers my claim is buried under in someones inbox.

And as much as I've resisted feeling it and admitting it, waiting has become a major part of my transition. I want control when there is none. I don't want to wait for the legal and medical world to give me the go-ahead to self actualize.