T

You'll never know what it's like to be on T until you are. You'll have vague ideas of what it might be like but really.. it's much different than you think. Think.. primal. Think food, sex, flesh and fuck. Think now now now now. Don't think about anything really at all. Then you'll get a glimpse. I am just happy that's all I am getting on my low dose. A full dose would turn me into a fucking dick.

it's a big thing

at this point and time. I feel purposeless. It's weird. I don't know why.

Lonely-Separation

my sadness is invisible to most.
I don't like to lay the burden on others.
but I spend most nights
laying around. Thinking of life before and after her.
and the inbetween.

and of my family. that I built.
my family of three reduced to one.

and of his furry little face
and her brown eyes.
their excitement at my arrival home
their complete love for me.

I didn't exist as a woman or man to them.
I just was.
I was their comfort
their strength
and they are mine.

'i am so heavy... heavy in your arms'-florence

androgyny is in

Top surgery

I had my surgeon see if my insurance will cover top surgery. I am beyond ready (and still scared). I've been working on my fitness and lost some weight. But not having chest surgery really kills my working out buzz.

Anyways, praying that insurance will cover it. :)
Then hopefully I'll look like this transguys!:

http://youtu.be/mhJ4Oth5vgE

in relation to the death post

these hands won't last forever

I truly love technology and I really like my job. However, I would love to have a part time job where I work with my hands outside.

I've asked my dad to help me start building furniture (I think it might quench this thirst). He is an awesome carpenter and it should be a good experience. Our first project: our caskets.

As a child I have two vivid memories about death and acknowledging it's place in life. When I was 5 I asked my mom what happens to us... and she explained we died. She used the 'we go to heaven' version (probably the right move with a 5 year old). I remember feeling overwhelmed and baffled... and surprised that this life just didn't continue on into infinity. And of course I was concerned this heaven place wouldn't have swingsets. In the end, my dad came home and reassured me... everything will be ok.

Then, the summer before my second grade year I remember riding on the pontoon and my feet dragging in the water and thinking.. I could fall off and I could die. Me. Dead. This thought became an obsession. I couldn't stop thinking about all the ways a person could die. I got really scared and this lasted my entire summer and 2nd grade year. I didn't eat because I could choke. I cried everyday at school and went to the nurse. I was in counseling.. (which didn't help.. a guy talking to me with a puppet just didn't do it for me). My mortality consumed me. It was a really bad year for me and worse for my poor parents.

One night I was sitting at the table because my mom told me I couldn't get up until I ate something.. and I just sat there for hours. She finally sat down and said, "what can I do?" She was tired and frustrated, I could see that. Then she pulled out a dove pendant and said, "anytime you get scared just rub this and you'll feel better."

And after months of counseling, that worked. I wish I still had that dove. It had so much meaning to me.

My current approach on death is respect and awareness. We die. It's a natural, good thing. Yet, we sterilize it. We pump our dead flesh full of chemicals and powder the surface. It all seems like we are hanging on. I want to be buried in my own casket that I made with my father..

The reunion: solved

A few post back I was debating if I should go to my high school reunion. I've decided to go. It will be good for everyone to be exposed to some diversity. And, my confidence can handle any bad reaction I get. I have a small group of supportive friends from high school that will be there. That will help. Plus, whoever I take to the reunion.

Bring the rain

Overall, I am a super positive person. I know there is always a better day or moment. I believe, at the core, life is good. It's true.. life is what you make it. I believe in taking responsibility for your happiness. That's why I've walked down this path of uncertainty and struggle with gender presentation to be happy. To be who I want to be. I've never had anything handed to me. I have worked for every single thing I have... this makes me proud. Also, it shows me.. You are all you have. You need to be strong for yourself and when you can provide love and happiness for yourself... you'll end up spreading it to lots of others.

Wow! That was really mushy. Um, hmmm. I guess I've just been really recognized how bless I am. Life is good, kids. Really.

Summer disappears: Enjoy

I deleted this blog for a bit. Bringing it back.. because it feels right.

I don't know that I'll be talking about this whole gender thing as much as just talking. I am at a point where I am not thinking about my gender a whole lot. I am just enjoying my life and those around me. It's been pretty wonderful. Anyways, I am back. For those two people that read this.

To a wonderful summer!

Needles. OMG!!

I used to not be pansy. Needles, rollercoasters, heights... They didn't scare me. Not anymore.

I've had the luxury of nurses at the health center administering my T shots for the last two years. I started doing it myself under their supervision... and then last night was the first time I've done it at home.
I was SUPER nervous and just kept thinking (and saying) I can't. But I did. I plunged the needle in and squeeze out the T.
And then I yanked the needle out and when I did out came a gush of blood. I FREAKED!
Normally, it's a dot of blood but this was literally a gush... and thank goodness for my wonderful, level-headed girlfriend. She brought me a paper towel and said it's okay. And it was. I went through a vein (which is normal)

I am not a robot.

Smiling fuckers

I am not an angry person. I am, generally, not an unhappy person. However, I am not a person that just goes around with a shit eating grin on my face. People confuse that for anger. It's not.

I am a cynical asshole. Doesn't mean I am not happy.
:)

Oh(insert something about gender here)

Community

Not the show.

I've never had a lot of queer friends but I always felt comfortable and welcomed at the gay bars.
But since starting hormones, things have shifted. I am no longer perceived as part of the community. I am up to a point.... the point when I start dancing with a girl. Then, suddenly, I am the hetero. Or the gay guy in denial. Either way. I am not a part of the community. Celebrating our uniqueness, our queerness. I am just some straight dude.

Identity. Always shifting. From rich to poor from poor to rich. From gay to straight. From girl to boy. Boy to girl. boi.

Shift. Shift. Shift. We are moving. and a shift.

It's a volcano-inside your gut

I've felt anger that eats away. It eats away my compassion.
I've felt anger that was too powerful to describe. but that's been awhile until today.
It overtook. It overtook me.
It grabs, rips and burns.
Burns inside. Calm down.

The photo is of the editors of Original Plumbing-the FTM zine!
Check out the magazine about FTM culture: http://www.originalplumbing.com/

Reality: Fact from Fiction

I am driving in rain, my windows are fogged up and I am bent over trying to see through a small space of visibility on my windshield. It's night time. None of the buildings look like Bethel Ave. but I have a vague understanding that I am driving on Bethel. Henry sits in the passenger seat. We are heading to our apartment. But we pass it because I can't see well. I make a U-turn and I notice to my left the moon. It's on the ground and it's huge. And there are windows... lit windows in it. All over it, they are huge windows. And then a ghostly figure comes up behind me and suddenly I am standing in the road and it says, "What are you doing?" in a voice so loud that it wakes me up.

I woke up feeling strange. Terrified. I felt like someone needed prayer (my pentecostal roots showing through) and so I called my mom at 4 a.m. She told me that she felt like God was waking me up because the rapture and tribulation was soon. She told me I needed to come out of my homosexual lifestyle. I needed to be delivered. She wanted to pray with me. I said okay. She prayed for 5-10 minutes. Sobbing and praying. And at the end she told me I needed to cry out to God. I didn't say anything. You could hear the heartbreak in her voice, the defeat.

I laid in bed and thought. I felt my 9 year old self start to question my 'lifestyle.' Wondering if I should be delivered. The weight of my love a sudden burden, a sinful distraction. How soon was the end? It all felt real again. My sinful life, the rapture, the tribulation. In order for someone to believe they need to be delivered, they have to believe something is grossly wrong with them. Something so terrible that it requires a community, a mob of prayer. I would have to hate myself to believe that I needed to be delivered. And I use to. I refuse to go down that spiral again.

I have to separate the fact from fiction. Their stories from my reality. It's hard sometimes when the very essence of your childhood centered around these stories. These frightening stories.

It puts you on an edge that overlooks insanity.

the digital past

one thing I love about digital is it's ability to take you right back to 2004. I just plugged in my old iPod mini and shit.. first off I called it Agent Mohawk's iPod. Tehehe. And the songs.. Oh geez. A lot of them were not my songs, Thanks, dawn new for the 80s rock.

Anyways, I love looking through old blogs and old songs, old technology.. see who I was. Who I'll be.

Gender: Male or Female

What I hate more than anything is running into the dreaded Male or Female check box on a form. Especially a form where it doesn't matter. (basically anything non-medical)

Think about how often you find that choice: Male or Female. Too often. For example, I signed up for a pottery class tonight and there it was... Gender:
Why would my gender matter in a pottery class? Why does my gender matter in general? Honestly, unless you are my doctor... I don't think it does. I am sure maybe there is a circumstance where it does.. Can you give me one? Talk to me.

Settling in

The hormones that flow through my veins. They barely show their faces these days. T merging so nicely, so easily with estrogen. A two-spirited. Bloody soul.
In between in spirit and soul and now in flesh. Our flesh we are the the masters of. Yet it masters us so much of the time. With weight. With gender. With height. We can overcome. Exceed. Excess.
We are the true masters of ourselves. Master yourself. Who are? What do you want to be? It's time to live that life.

I am surrounded by excess right now. I am a consumer. Why?
What void will that fill? Or is it just the power. The ability to say.. I will buy this. It will be mine.

What is it?

it's chaos

I can't tell you how overwhelmed I feel. My family is crushing me. Every day. My cousin just told me that my grandma (who doesn't speak to me) asked if I was going out of town to get sex change treatments. I have two words for my own grandmother: FUCK YOU. She literally knows nothing about life. She has never cared to know me... but she wants in on the gossip. I forget she exists and frankly, she does the same with me until there is drama to talk about.

I can't rely on my family for love or support. I can rely on them to crush me each and every day. To treat me with disdain and disgust. Most days, I can ignore, live through it but days like today... it crushes me. It destroys me. I remind myself that I am successful and I have lots of support from friends.
I don't think my friends and mentors realize how much I rely on their words and their time. They are my support system. I am my support system. I pray to be stronger with each day and I usually am. But nights like tonight. I can't help but cry. I can't be sad and I can't help but wondering... how the fuck does my grandma know anything about my life?

Fuck. Sorry. But I literally just feel like beating the shit out of something (non-human or non-animal).

It's so hard. No matter the years of therapy. No matter the amount of self-esteem I muster... my family can still crush me. Why can't I be stronger than that? How can I be stronger than that?

'I like you the way you are'

My brother came over the other night... pleading with me to not be boy.
It's times like these when I feel that feeling creep in. I feel like a freak. But I fight the feeling. I think about all my friends. All the people who see me as normal, that love me. That see the beauty in me. And I go to that sanctuary in my head. The sanctuary where all their words lay.

I associate the word family with pain. Friends, mentors, companions those words I associate with love.

I know so many of us, live without family. And I know, I am strong enough. It's just that the whole concept of family is foreign to me and it's fucking the other words, companion, etc.

Coping using distance

I believe we are an island. I use space and distance to cope with everything emotional. I am not distraught. I am not sad. I don't get that way. I go inside. I go outside. But I don't go to someone. I go.

Just thinking. About everything. Sometimes, we hide inside ourselves. Who we are. What we want. What we think. We hide it. Because we have to. To survive. Mostly to be loved. I get tired of hiding.
Tired of pretending.

Nothing cuter...

I went to a flower shop today and I was wearing a bow tie. how cute is that? Need I say more.
The ladies treated me like a sweet little angel. They were swooning.

It's been a weeK!!

okay. I've got to step up my blogging.

Shaving. I wasn't taught. I don't think most people are... I think that's a myth. The whole father/son shaving lessons. I will say when I was younger I would use the spoiler off a toy sports car to mimic my dad shaving. He'd give me shaving cream and everything.

I've done pretty well. I haven't cut myself for a year and half....then Friday... I shaved my mole off. Well the top off. GROSS!! I went from not cutting myself at all to shaving the top off a mole.

Anyways, I am learning.
On another note, I love my dad. He never treated me like a girl or a boy. He let me go fishing and hunting with him. We'd play shaving together. He always called me his best buddy. Still does. And I was.

His birthday is coming up. I hope he is proud of me because I am of him.

Loyalty shattered

Loyalty, is faithfulness or a devotion to a person, country, group, or cause.

One thing, I want to be is loyal. One thing I used to be was loyal. I was loyal to a faith, a belief, a cause: Pentecostalism. I still am. I don't talk badly about it. I will talk about my experiences but in general I don't have a bad word for it. But what did that loyalty get me besides guilt. Something came to me today. I associate loyalty with guilt. If I have a true loyalty to you or from you. I feel guilty that I've broken or that I will break it or that I want to break it. But that feels right... to have loyalty wrapped in guilt.
I loved my religion. I loved being pentecostal and I truly believed it was the way. I was truly devoted. Truly loyal. And then it abandoned me. It turn me against me. It turned my love for who I was into hatred. Deep hatred. Suicidal hatred. How could this happen? My first love, my first hurt.
I don't know that I've ever been loyal since. I have a big mouth. Anyone that knows me.. knows this. You know what a big mouth is? A lack of loyalty. I owe it to the ones who have stood by me, Jessica and all the friends, to be loyal. I know this won't change over night. I know the hurt and confusion from my religion still lingers but I think this is my last obstacle. If I can give my loyalty to those who deserve it, I've healed the final wound left from my first heartbreak, losing my religion.

And to those who I've not been loyal. Not held your trust like I should've. I apologize. I sincerely do. I hope to change that.

On the job

I might be moving (maybe) in a 6 months. If I do. I'll be starting/seeking a new job.
I am not sure how to handle the name issue.

I won't be changing my name before I leave. I think I'll handle the name thing this way: I'll go by birth name until I am hired and then have a discussion with my manager and the HR person about wanting to use male pronouns and Leo. I know it's ultimately my decision but I am not sure which would be better; to introduce this in the interviewing process or wait until I am actually an employee to bring it up. I am definitely ready to identify as Leo and male in my next job.

The above is what I sent to my mentor about the situation to her input.


I am just not sure of how to go about this.

Class Reunion

My 10 reunion is coming up. I chatted with a high school friend that is on the planning committee...and in charge of locating me. She said that the other girls in the committee made the comment that they didn't think anyone in our class was gay. My class was 250 people. Recent research suggest that 1 in 20 people are gay. Lets do the math. That would mean there would be a good possibility of 12 gay people. Come on!

But that shows a bit of the mentality of these woman. Diversity isn't something they can even begin to understand.

I joked that I would show up at the reunion and they'd be like 'who's the gay guy?'
I am really torn because I don't want to hide from them. I would like to go and show them that you can be trans/gay/different and live a productive/happy life. But will a few hours of exposure to me... really establish that? I have tough skin so I am not afraid of being hurt. I think, mostly, I don't want to be trapped in my old identity...that pentecostal girl I once was. I am not ashamed of her. I am just not her anymore. As I told my friends.. she has sort of died. She doesn't exist anymore. And I respect her too much to try to pretend to be her.

I am pretty conflicted about the whole thing.
Suggestions? Comments? Are you out there?

Passing through

It was a busy weekend. Hung out with old friends and got sick. Still recovering.

I wanted to chat a bit about my decision to not feed into the hyper-masculine vision of transitioning. Lots of physical things are changing like my muscles but I still pluck my eyebrows. I still fancy looking fancy. I joke that I am a gay man that loves woman. And honestly, I feel most at home with woman and gay men. I've tried bonding with straight men... but I usually can't click. (I am a vibes type of guy... if we don't vibe. we don't vibe. period)

I really identify as queer. Sometimes as trans. But more just on the outside... part of the queer community.

It's nice to be able to pass as so many things: a lesbian, a straight man, a gay man, a trans-person. To live a life full of different perspectives, an insider and an outsider. It's an ability to embody the other side. It's like being a spy.

One of my favorite trans-youtubers makes perfect sense of this identity seesaw:

Metrosexual

When I was a woman... I was too butch. Now that I am a man.. I am too feminine. Hahaha. Either way, I'm frequently perceived as gay. It's a spectrum, people. Our gender and sexuality are separate. Two different things. Let's stop making them one in the same. A butch woman could be straight and a fem lady could be gay.

Gender is a societal thing

Trans
transcend: To pass beyond the limits of: emotions that transcend understanding.
OR even better:
. To be greater than, as in intensity or power; surpass:

A direct translation of the Ojibwe term, Niizh manidoowag, "two-spirited" or "two-spirit" is usually used to indicate a person whose body simultaneously houses a masculine spirit and a feminine spirit.

A phrase from my religion that has found it's way into my current life: "When the spirit moves"
I like that. It shows an ability to let go and feel. Feel who are. What's inside. I try to do that.
My identity is fluid but stable. It's a waterfall. Always moving but strong. I don't bend or sway from my truth.

We've got to get away from thinking we are our gender. We are so much more.

Communication relies on visual clues. I know this. I know that we communicate with females different than males. This puts me a strange place for people that know I am biological female but I look like a man. How do they communicate with me? A lot of people take the 'I'll just avoid them' route.

Privilege

A subtle surprise in being perceived as a man: privilege. It's not that I am rich and famous now. But there has been a shift in the degree of respect I get.
Although, it could be argued that I've noticed a difference because I went from being perceived as homosexual to heterosexual.

I will say two things have changed: expectations and privilege.
People expect a man to do more. Open the doors, pay the bill but with these new expectations comes privilege and respect. Both of these things are only slightly different but enough to notice.

My parents never overly socialized as me as a female. I went fishing, hunting, had knives and pellet guns, shot fireworks but I was still always a girl. So, learning these new dating roles and societal roles is a bit strange...and a quite a bit like why the hell is it this way?!?

I think there are difference between men and women but these differences don't mean that a woman can't open her own door. Or that a man should get paid more at a job.

To me the differences are these: emotional, sexual, physical

emotionally-I can't feel as much. I don't feel as deep. I am never as sad or as happy. This is both bad and good. One I don't have those low, lows but I also don't get those high, highs. And when I am truly sad.. it's hard to cry even though I feel it inside.
What's interesting about this.. is the theory that men are socialized to not cry and that's why they don't... but I was socialized as a female and crying was okay and I use to cry.. easily. But not that I am taking T. I can't. I think there is more to the boys don't cry theory than socialization. (Also, a good movie.. Boys Don't Cry)

Sexually-it's not as intimate as it once was. It's more about the physical.

Physical-I am obviously stronger. Even before doing any lifting my muscles grew.

A class project

I did a short documentary last year on my transition. This year I wanted to continue with it but make it more of interactive approach to my emotions. I created a website:
CHEMISTRY

As I explain on the website "This is my exploration into the visualization of emotion, specifically, the effects of testosterone on emotions. The project pulls from the somatic theories of emotion. Somatic theory suggests that emotions rely on bodily responses rather than judgement. Since starting hormone therapy I would have to agree. My emotions are either manifested by physical reactions or intensified by these reactions. All these emotions have a visual context within my mind. I want to represent the most primal and frequent emotions I have visually."

*a function note be careful rolling over the emotions... once inside an emotion if you roll over any of the others... the audio will shut off on that emotion. The audio clips with each one are about 2 minutes so if it stops just click on it again.

dude, man, bro: I am one of the guys

A dramatic difference now that I always pass as a man is how other guys treat me. Before I had the whole lesbian look going.. guys usually just treated me like I didn't exist. I served no function for them. They couldn't hit on me and they couldn't be my buddy. But now... I am on the inside. I am one of them. The cashier will hand me my change and say, "Here you go, buddy" "Have a good day, man" It's that extra "man, buddy, bro" that makes me a member of the club now. I am also in the club of 'hey look at that girl.' I am not as comfortable in this club.
I volunteered for a walking event in Muncie and as part of it I rode around with a guy in his late 60s, early 70s. We were setting up stations along the walking trail. We talked about cars, work, the trail. Then he stopped into a gas station. He got back into his truck and said, "wow, that girl was good looking. She had great tits."
What!?!
I pause.
Look out the window.
"man, the corn is growing fast."
I mean. What else can I say? I am not going to participate in the objectification of woman even if it means my member status is revoked.

My mom, my religion, my life

I grew up Pentecostal and my mom still is Pentecostal. Now, let me say this first...I love my mom. I do. She is a good person and she tries her best in understanding and loving me. However, she is really religious and well, in religion's eyes I am a horrible sinner. Okay, with all that said... a story:
My mom recently started texting me and today she sent me this:
"I had just prayed that the Lord shine His light on the situation darkness can't hide from God ur sin will surely find u out"

HOW DO I RESPOND TO THAT?
This is how: "true that"
Hehe.
Then she has been using text language like PTL. What's PTL? I figure it's Praise the lord... I could be wrong but I am guessing I am not. The other one was IJN.. I had to ask on this one I had no clue. It was In Jesus Name.

Some insight on the Pentecostal influence in this genderless life.

Tranny Chaser

A restroom discussion

A word to the women on men's restroom: They are filthy. Seriously, no matter what.... there is always that bit of pee chilling out on the floor somewhere. They are usually smaller and they always smell...because of the pee on the floor.

A word to men: You are getting ripped off. The women get far better public restrooms (usually with except of gas station bathrooms). But normally they are far bigger, some even have couches! And the usually smell sort of flowery.
I just wanted you to know. All of you. I am encouraging you to find an empty bathroom (where you won't get arrested and check it out)

Exploring

I've been living in both genders for about 8 years now. I've talked about how I should write a book. I figured I'd start with a blog... see how that goes... then maybe get a co-writer like Snooki did and write a book. However, I doubt I'll be talking about badonks. But, who knows. In this blog I will tell stories of my gender journey that include encounters, introspection and relationship dynamics. I hope it's interesting and if it's not... just come smack me or stop paying attention. My goal is to keep the blog fairly fresh.