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Author: Addison

Maybe if the stars align…

Maybe if the stars align…

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2015.08.22 -- 07.01
Your author at 7am.

I’m really bad at this, aren’t I?

Well, that’s not 100% true. I have written 2 or 3 pieces, some complete, but never published. Some of it was too personal for this forum, others too bitter or negative. I don’t want this blog to become the place where all I do is bitch and moan. I don’t think that’s fair and accurate. Despite my comments, I do spend a lot of my current existence in a better place than I have been in years. For all of the turmoil, I think the end result is still positive. The push was worth the shove, the juice was worth the squeeze.

So things are good, things are bad, things are indifferent. Kinda sounds like any other life, if we’re being vague. Vagueness begets vagueness.

"That's me. I'd say I'm sorry to disappoint you… but I'm not. I excel at not giving a shit. Experience has taught me that interest begets expectation, and expectation begets disappointment, so the key to avoiding disappointment is to avoid interest. A equals B equals C equals A, or… whatever. I also don't have a lot of interest in being a good person or a bad person. From what I can tell, either way, you're screwed." --George, Dead Like Me

In the grand scheme of things, my transition is moving along at about the pace I expected. I think the term is “glacial.” It’s actually not that bad. My biggest complaints at this point are still the same as before. I have compiled a short list, in no particular order. I put them in bullet points, because everyone loves bullet points.

  • I still have to shave (my face) every day. We need more power in the dilithium crystals, Scotty.
  • My boobs are actually growing, but at the aforementioned glacial pace.
  • My voice. **sigh**
  • I still have my penis. Oh but your day will come….

My body is doing interesting things. I’m already starting to notice fat shifting to and fro. In May, I went out with my mother, and I bought bras. I had tried previously to buy bras from Aerie. The largest band/smallest cup combo they carried was a 38B. I wasn’t and still am not a B cup, but I thought it was worth a shot. Since they don’t carry them in store, I had to order them.

When they came, it was all I could do to get it fastened, and there was no chance I was wearing it all day. I think I bent the hook on one of them, actually. So back to the store they went.  So we ended up finding some 40B sizes at Macy’s. This is what I have been wearing for the last 3 months. Due to the nature of the padding, and the full coverage of the bra, I have been slightly limited on shirts and dresses. In fact, half of the t-shirts and stuff I bought before I owned a bra I couldn’t wear.

As I started to fill in a little, I found that I might be able to start employing tricks and tips of the trade. A friend (more on her later), clued me to something that someone else had mentioned months ago. Layering of bras. At the time, I was washboard flat, so no combination of push-up was going to make Florida look like Colorado. Anyway, I started looking at things like the “Bombshell” bra from VS. I was upset to find that again, 38 was the largest, but C cup was the smallest in a 38.

So, I thought, band extenders. For those of you that don’t know, you can buy little things to make your band bigger without replacing the whole bra. So I bought some at Wal-Mart and I marched my happy little transsexual self into VS and picked out a nice 36A bra and headed to the fitting room. Being untrained in brassiere sciences, I quickly learned that not only are the 2, 3 and 4 hook bras, there are also various widths. I quickly thought back to rack mount server equipment, and remembered a JMcA quote “Standards are great, pick one.”

Foiled. As I stood there in the dressing room, half naked, alone and vulnerable… I thought, well, uhh.. maybe it’ll fit? I didn’t really believe that, because I’m a cynic realist, but I was already topless. What did I have to lose?  So, I reached behind my back and to my surprise I can wear a 36 band now. It’s a little snug, but we’re all about sacrifices these days, right?With that solved, I got that bra and a slightly larger bra (38B) and have layered them together to get just enough cleavage to be able to pull off some lower cut garments.

I also noticed that a pair of pants that I bought a couple years ago that were always a little baggy in the hips and butt department are now fitting considerably better. This coupled with the fact that I’ve not really gained any weight in 3 months is a good sign that things are happening. So while I might not see it in the mirror, the results are somewhat tangible in other ways.

As for other things, the laser continues. I go back next week for the 4th session at the newer place. This will make 9 total sessions since January. I have a significant amount of loss there. In fact, up until the last couple days, I could actually skip shaving for a day and still not really worry about it. At this point, I think the growth cycle is picking back up and dormant hair is growing. So, next week, we blast them with laser beams. Repeatedly.

My voice continues to be my biggest stumbling block. I strain and I strain. I occasionally pass on the phone, but I endure a regular barrage of unsolicited commentary from people on the other side, some examples are “Well, you sound like a man” and “You’re a woman? Are you sure?” and “Yes, Miss Addison, sir, (rest of comment)”.  The beatings will continue until morale improves. I had a great day on Thursday, where I made until 6pm before I got sir’d. It was a first. By that point, my voice was so tired, I wasn’t even upset. However, yesterday, I got sir’d within an hour. So, we march on.

Other than that, on a transition related level, the only other thing I keep thinking about is my GRS surgery. It’s so far away. As currently scheduled, it’s 536 days away. That’s, near as makes no difference, 18 months from now. I will have been full time for 22 months, on hormones for 23, and out for 26 months at that point. I think that’s too much time, but what can you do?

As for the rest of my life, well it has it’s highs and it’s lows. Unfortunately, I find myself wanting to bare that part of my soul, but due to the other people involved, I find that it’s just too personal to put out there. Maybe one day.  As JFB said in an interview to Dr. McGinn, in reply to McGinn not wanting to make things up; “Hey man, there’s a great future for you as a memoirist.”

We are never ever ever ever getting back together.

We are never ever ever ever getting back together.

Comments 4 comments

Let’s talk for a minute about the shitstorm that is social media. It’s a wonderful awesome terrible thing. I’m going to let you in on a secret. It’s something that I had an inkling of for sometime, but it’s becoming more evident as time passes.

The big secret? You should not be “friends” with everyone you know. I’ll say that again. Just because you know a person, that does NOT MEAN YOU SHOULD BE FACEBOOK FRIENDS.

This is my life. I went to school with you 20 years ago. We ran into each other in Wal-Mart about 8 years ago. So now, I have to be your facebook friend for the rest of my natural life. Right? Wrong.

My wife has lately been the target of some people excluding her from activities because of me. Let me rephrase that…. because they think that I am the second coming of Satan herself, with better fashion sense and a much higher dose of estrogen, my wife can’t go to the movies with them. *AHEM*

satan

 

So she found out that they were going to a movie and she wasn’t being invited. Why? Because I’m transgender, it might make this person uncomfortable because their religious beliefs conflict. Which of course, pissed me off. Not because they don’t support me being trans. But because they would exclude my wife from their reindeer games, only because I am transgender. Nothing changed about my wife, she’s still married. Still loves her kids, still loves her spouse. She’s just got a wife instead of a husband.  I mean, I can’t even picture this person. I’m sure I’ve met her, but I don’t know her. I wasn’t trying to get invited to go see Magic Mike with them. (There’s a certain amount of irony that being trans is a mortal sin, but lusting after men in a movie is ok. Hey, whatever fits your narrative.) However, this was someone that my wife has known since childhood and obviously their views as they’ve matured have grown apart.

Apparently, the person de-friended my wife on facebook, which initially made me mad. I said some choice words about the situation. But looking back? Good. My wife has been very vocal on FB about trans issues and LGBT stuff in general, since I came out. It’s an issue that is now important to her, due to our relationship. As I told her, “You post more about it than I do.”

She’s also fairly active in the church and it’s very apparent that some people there, including some people in her own family are not my strongest supporters. They do pray for her and the kids though. Which is sweet. I always laugh when someone posts that. They never pray for me. Which I am perfectly ok with. I don’t need nor want their prayers. Mostly, because I’m sure they’re praying for me to be a man and not forsake God’s great creation of my body. They’re praying for my mortal soul and my whatever. Again, pray for your own damn sins. I’m over here enjoying my life. I AIN’T GOT NO TIME FOR THAT!

But that’s the whole point, I’ve de-friended people for their extreme right wing posts, hate speech, etc. Why? Because I don’t carry those beliefs. Would I shun these acquaintances if I ran into them at a barbeque? Of course not. That’s how we became friends. Over a beer. That’s where it should have stayed. A funny guy at a barbeque that I met once that’s a friend of a friend. I don’t need to be his facebook friend.

So when you’re considering that you have nearly 1200 people that you’re “friends” with, you should consider that. Statistically, they’re not all going to share your views. They don’t have to.  I think you should surround yourself with people who support you. Which means thinning the herd.

 

Update – 7/19/2015

I need to take my own advice. I wake up and check my phone because, well, that’s what I do. What do I find?

hisherfb

I do have a sense of humor and I do enjoy laughing. However, do I need to be the punchline to every joke?  Of course, I replied to this person’s post. By the time I got to my computer to collect my thoughts, they had deleted the post.

26 comments, not one of which was corrective of this transphobic garbage.. just a lot of agreement that being trans isn’t brave. More of how Caitlyn stole the Arthur Ashe award from runner-up disabled veteran Noah Galloway. (Which of course, is patently false.) More of how she/he was running away from being a man and that there was no courage in that. And of course, me. The whole post deleted before anyone other than the original author saw it, read something along the lines of “Why not just refer to us transgender folks as IT, that might be easier for you.” That’s the gist. I feel like it had more zing to it, but who knows. It’s 5AM, after all.

I will say that my post originally had very little to do with being transgender. I used that as a jumping point to say that just because you know a person doesn’t mean that it’s a good idea to be their facebook friend. The reason is pretty simple. At some point, they’re going to show you what’s really on their mind. That truth, it may not be what you think of that person. It’s similar to the old saying “Never meet your heros.”  That said, I guess that’s changed with this addendum.

Whether you want to admit it or not, transgender folks are brave. It’s a requirement to live this life. Unless you never admit to anyone that you are trans and you live a miserable life hiding yourself from the world. You can’t be openly transgender and not have some element of bravery and/or courage. Walking out of the house presenting in a gender other than the one you were assigned at birth is scary. The first time I left the house in a dress, I was terrified. Had it not been for a doctor that insinuated that I wasn’t female or trans enough, I wouldn’t have done it so soon. He, in his own shitty way, forced my hand. It’s the only good thing I can say about my experience with him. He pushed me out of my comfort zone. When I showed up in his office later that morning in my floral print dress and my leggings, he looked me up and down and said “Good for you.” Later that day, I walked into my first public women’s room at the mall. Not too long after that, I went to easter dinner and was misgendered and dead named repeatedly. No one corrected anyway.  I sat in the corner, considering the fact that this could be the rest of my life. Up

In the end, it’s all about keeping your head high — keeping forward movement and just doing what you need to do to survive. Anyone who thinks that doesn’t contain some element of bravery is an idiot, and frankly I haven’t got the time.