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.