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Thanksgiving? Giving thanks, despite it all.

Nov28

I sit alone at home today and no, I won’t be invited anywhere. I do have friends but they are all away for the holiday or live far enough away that going to their homes was not practical this year. But this doesn’t upset me.

My daughter and her family are visiting elsewhere, or they’d likely have me over. My sons? No, of course not. I am a pariah to them.

And yet today I am amused. I wonder how I could have raised such a gracious and loving daughter yet have raised such vindictive and hateful sons. But friends have reminded me that neither of them grew up that way. One, who was a long time friend of my eldest son, and simply let that friendship slide away, and did so because he watched my son go from being an open-minded, accepting person early in college, to the close-minded, spiteful, angry creature he’s become today after he married into a rigid Southern Baptist clan. So I take solace in the fact that no, I didn’t do that. They did.

My daughter did have me over for dinner the night before last. She wanted to do something for me before she and her family went to visit in-laws for Thanksgiving. It was a wonderful dinner and I got to chat with her, enjoy her hot-lemon-honey-cinnamon drink that she’s created from the lemons from the tree in her backyard, and chat with my eldest granddaughter.

But then I had to excuse myself and went outside and cried. She came out and consoled me, hugged me, and just stood with me. You see, my eldest son is playing a game. He’s threatening to cut off contact with my daughter and my daughter’s children if she lets her children know about my transition. Since my granddaughter by my daughter and my granddaughter by my eldest son are just one year apart, they are close friends. Thus, she’s having to make a choice. And right now she wants to protect that childhood relationship between her daughter and his daughter, which I understand. She doesn’t like this and she has promised that it won’t stay this way, but this is what she’ll have to do soon and for the immediate future. It’s not right now but it’s coming, as I move further along with my transition and things become more and more obvious.

As I told her, this is not an act of love. It’s an act of raw hatred, anger, power. An opportunity for my son to further split our family against me, or at least he believes so. We discussed my eldest son’s wife, a woman who has been jealous of me for years because of the close relationship I once had with my eldest son. She’s done everything she can to break that up and this was the ultimate chance – cut off that competition. And now that she’s done so? She hardly includes my son in anything other than to just let him babysit their two girls. And her? She’s off running with her friends, or visiting her side of the family. She’s ignored my daughter and not been friendly or open to her either.

I had my cry. I was consoled. And I got over it. Today I’m writing about it and I am sadly amused. Sad for obvious reasons but amused because my son’s close-mindedness would deny his daughters a loving grandparent solely for his “superior moral view”.

Let me relay a story about the reality of my son’s hatred. I’ve seen my older granddaughter by my son just once in the last 16 months. It was last spring, the spring of 2013. We had gone to Denny’s for Sunday breakfast because we enjoy Denny’s pancakes, french toast, etc. And it was busy, as usual on a Sunday morning so we were waiting in the lobby. And who walked up to the cash register? My eldest son, who looked at me, grunted a hello then turned to the cashier. Right behind him, I heard a squeal. “Grandpa!” She ran to me and hugged me, saying, “I miss you so much. I love you.” I smiled down at her and replied, “I miss you too, honey. I love you.” And at that moment, her mother snatched her by the collar, dragging her out the door, with everyone staring and my granddaughter having this frightened, hurt look on her face as she was dragged away from me.

That is the reality of my life. That is the reality of my eldest son and his open bigotry, all in the name of Southern Baptist fundamentalist evangelical hatred. So those who wonder why I take a dim view of fundamentalist Christians, this is why. When you and yours openly scorn me, do not expect me to embrace your bigotry. Tolerance does not mean accepting someone else’s bigotry. That is not an act of Christ. That is an act of a Pharisee.

Thus I sit home alone today, debating what to make for myself for Thanksgiving. I have a few ideas and we’ll see what I decide. And I do give thanks, for my daughter, for my close friends, for my siblings, and for my transgender friends, all of whom have stood beside me.

Finally, just for further reading and viewing about trans experiences, here are two links. Neither is what I would call a perfect instance of journalism. The Rolling Stone piece is laced with binary gender assumptions despite its attempt to be generally positive but they do document different aspects of life as a trans person. The video is one trans person’s experience and is valid for her but each of us is unique and though we share so much, we also walk different paths in certain respects.

About a Girl: Coy Mathis’ Fight to Change Gender

I Am Not My Body

Enjoy and may each of you have a happy Thanksgiving and joyous Hanukkah.

I am somebody, even if others treat me like a nobody

Nov21

Today was the birthday of one of my daughter-in-laws. She’s married to my eldest son, about whom I’ve written before. I previously contacted her and my son on my old Facebook account and told them I would invite them to friend me on my new account. I know that she saw the PM. I do not know if my son ever did or not. Anyway, I tried to tell her happy birthday when I discovered that she had unfriended even my old male account. So I checked on my son. I can’t reach his account from my page though I found a way to reach his page via other means. Very odd. So, I am not welcome at their house. They don’t accept phone calls from me. And they never come over here. So I’ll say this here, even though she’ll never see it and probably doesn’t care even if she does – Happy Birthday.

My sons have not spoken to me in months, despite efforts to reach out the them. It took me quite some time to get over the rejection from my spouse, a rejection that basically said “no, I don’t love you; I love an image of you”, to grieve over that loss, and to come to terms with it. But I’ve known for a long time that my spouse didn’t have deep feelings for me. This simply confirmed it.

It’s a bit different when your own children reject you. There’s sadness. There’s tears. And despite months and months, it never seems to truly heal, just grow slightly more tolerable over time. It’s an ugly revelation when you find out that those to whom you gave decades of your life will willingly and happily pretend you don’t exist.

But the greatest loss are my grandchildren, who I am not allowed to see, to hold, to cherish. My grandchildren, in whose lives I’ve been made a ghost. There are no words for that, just tears.

Why Now?

Sep30

I was reading Kira’s latest post, Revision, and it got me to thinking. I was going to respond to her but this began to grow into something long enough deserving of its own spot on my blog.

I am often asked why did it take this long for me to face my gender dysphoria? And truth to tell, it was largely three things. First, when I was younger, I didn’t even have the words to adequately express how I felt. I was fascinated with “sex change” stories when I was young but I was given so much baloney, and believed it, that I could never see myself doing that. I obsessed over girl things but I was male and, much to my dismay, I had those male dangly bits to constantly remind me that I was physically male. It didn’t matter that I thought of myself as female inside. It didn’t matter that I’d adopted a female name for myself when younger. There was this huge psychological disconnect. Maybe I thought I’d “outgrow” whatever this was. Maybe I was afraid to face what it meant. I don’t know. I just know that at that time, I lacked the words to adequately convey how I felt about myself.

Second, because of my socialization, I had this burning desire to “become the man” I was expected to be. That same desire made enlisting in the army trivially easy as a decision. By that point, I had a wife, a baby on the way, and needed steady work, which in that part of the country in that decade was very hard to find. So there I was being offered a job that carried the “mystique” of being able to “cure” me of my strange longings.

And the third part was me overcoming that aspect of my socialization against queer people to accept and be comfortable with GLBT persons generally, which then allowed me to face myself honestly. Part of that socialization, in the coal mine and steel mill country of the 1960s and 1970s, also horridly mocked people who were “queer” (homosexual). I didn’t see myself as queer but the hints around the edges of society suggested that what I felt was even worse than being “queer”. I was terrified of being found out, mocked, isolated, physically assaulted, and all the rest that came with that.

It was when I was planning suicide and I stopped myself, realizing that I do not want to do this but I can’t live like this anymore that I finally realized that I needed help, more help than this proud and arrogant person would have admitted to needing ever before in my life.

I go back now and look at things and it’s not just me interpreting my past. It’s my therapist hearing these things and helping me see what was different about my past. Yes, I am interpreting that past through hindsight but I have tools and memes and vocabulary now to better express what I felt then, and still do today.

My greatest regret remains not putting these pieces together earlier in my life, that I might have spared certain persons their own self-induced anguish at the horror of being related to a trans woman. If I had known then what I know now, there would have been no striving to be “a man”, no baby, no wedding, no such obligations and all those who today are horrified at the mere thought that they might be related to a transwoman would be spared that self-induced fear and loathing.

However, facing this earlier would also remove so many wonderful and precious people from my life. Julie, Elizabeth, Fran and Kate, my daughter, and so many others as well. And so my regrets are not large. They are not consuming regrets. They are tiny ones in the overall scheme of things, an overall scheme with which I become happier with each passing day and more confident of myself.

Two steps forward, one step back

Apr28

I really need to try to post more regularly. It took about 8 weeks to get the blood pressure back under control. During that time my testosterone levels actually rose rather than fell so once the blood pressure was no longer an issue, my endocrinologist started me on a low dose of spironolactone. Spironolactone apparently works by binding where testosterone usually would, leaving excess free testosterone in the bloodstream, at which point the adrenal glands are supposed to tell the testes to slow down production. I’m supposed to have additional blood work in mid to late June to see where we stand at that point.

In the meanwhile, I’ve halted facial electrolysis because hair began growing back in thicker than before. So I’ll wait until testosterone levels are down enough before beginning that again. Also, I plan to try E3000 in Dallas, as I should be able to save enough for the initial visit by then. Hopefully, the spiro puts the testosterone issue to bed and I can move towards large scale facial electrolysis to get rid of the beard and beard shadow.

My spouse and I may also be coming to terms where we can both manage to live together the next few years while she goes back to school. Emphasis on may, however. She’s the one who floated the idea but isn’t sure she can handle it so we’ll see. Financially, it would be better for us living under one roof than two while she’s in school for a number of reasons. And financially it would be better for both of us if she was working and earning a regular salary once we do split so we both end up with more comfortable lifestyles. But again, we shall see.

A February Update

Mar6

I visited my endocrinologist for my 5 month HRT followup at the end of the month. Effects continue to accumulate very slowly, but that’s fine. It gives me time to plan my next steps. My blood pressure is up though so I am working with my primary care provider to get that  back down. My estrogen levels continue to rise but my testosterone levels are staying elevated. Unfortunately we can’t change my regimen until the blood pressure is back under control.

I discovered, quite by accident, that neither Christmas cards nor Valentine’s cards to our grand kids carried my name in any form. Now let’s think about this. I’m told we’ll “remain friends” and I’m paying all the bills. What was the purpose of this pettiness? I will remember these things though. Believe me, I will remember.

I read a wonderful entry today over on the Permission to Live blog by Melissa’s spouse, Haley. For those that don’t know, Haley is a transitioning MTF and Melissa is her significant other. The post is titled Oblivious to Privilege: Part One and makes me think about how our society really works versus how most politicians think it works.

I find myself mourning a little bit every time I have to dress up fully male. It’s beginning to bother me. My electrolysis advances slowly and that’s frustrating as well. I am going to stick to my commitments til my spouse is prepared to resume her life alone but after that I am going to step up my transition efforts so that I can move towards full time living. It may come later than I wanted but I am going to get there.

Two of my cis-female friends are going to a women’s spiritual retreat soon. They wanted me to come and I wanted to go but finances and still living with my S.O. made that impossible. I hope to go next year.

Life moves forward very slowly right now. Everything revolves around other people and I’m the last one considered, as it has been for 35 years of marriage. But that will change soon, one way or another.