Here’s Where I Went:

I’ve not posted for some days now.  In the real world, you readers have probably noticed.  And I am sorry.  But in my head I assume you didn’t notice.  I assume nobody cares because that’s the kind of self-loathing you get in this package.  In my head my bullshit was not missed.  And that is where I went: in my head.  It’s ugly in there.  Ugh.

Some Thoughts I Wasted Time with in My Head

-I’m not trans enough

-T is not the issue

-I’m really mad but I don’t know about what

-I’m mad at my dad

-MCA died?

-MCA died.

-I’m angry

I think something is working its way to the surface, some old insecurities or some lies about myself I’ve believed for a long time, because I have just felt mad for a few days, but I can’t really point to anything as its source.  Which, of course, is maddening.

I have been considering that top surgery might not be the end point I have always thought of it as, but rather a beginning.  Not just the beginning of a new part of my life, but rather the beginning of transitioning.  And I think maybe that’s what I’m mad about: I think maybe I am a man, not just queer or something in-between as I have wanted to be satisfied with.  I want very much to be happy with who I am after top surgery, and I am going to try really hard to do that.  But I can already feel that this surgery, while right for me, is not a destination: it’s the necessary gas station pit stop on the way home.

I think I had it right when I was five, I was a boy, now I’m a man, a man that has to do all this extra work and put up with all this explaining and do all this self-reflection and pay for these surgeries and take these hormones just to get the right fucking pronoun.

I’m mad I feel like I’m kidding myself, like I can’t face the trans facts and am just prolonging the process.  But I suppose this is the process, and this is my process, and it will take on whatever shape it damn well pleases and I should stop judging myself.  But that also is a process, right?  The learning-to-stop-judging-myself business is going to take some time.

I had lunch with my friend T the other day.  T is my only real-life trans friend.  This was the first time we had seen each other since my moving back to this area.  Last time I saw him he was identifying as transmasculine and taking T.  I was id-ing as butch.

We talked about his top surgery, and taking T.  I told him about my plans, and he was very supportive.  And I was so glad after lunch, walked home with a bounce in my step just because I had a real live trans friend.  T is a kind man, and a good person to talk to about trans issues, but really just a good person to talk to about any issue: he is reasoned and well-tempered and has a sweet spirit.  He was reassuring without influencing me one way or the other about what decisions are right for me.

But here I am, mad as hell I can’t rush right into the end point that I can’t yet see and don’t fully understand.  Pissed I have to wait for something I have been suppressing for 30 years.  Ha!  I’m so mad I have to do this transitioning the right way, angry with myself for taking my time, and so I think part of my anger is anxiousness.

I want to get going and get to where I’m going.  But I don’t know where that is yet.  I’ve not seen home, not this home, ever in my life, and so I might as well enjoy the trip since I’ll probably not come this way again.

Be nice to yourselves,
Your Pal Eli

13 thoughts on “Here’s Where I Went:

  1. Very interesting. Have you read April Ashley’s book? It’s called The First Lady. I think your thought process is very human and very universal. Mankind tends to reductionism in regards to very complex issues. I spend my life watching people saying “all I need is X”, and then life will be what it’s supposed to be (a car, a house, a sculpture, having children.)
    I mentioned April Ashley because in her book it’s clear she thought surgery was going to be the eureka moment when everything in her life would suddenly make sense and it would be smooth sailing from there. It wasn’t, and she’s spent a lifetime trying to figure out why.

    The way I see it is whether it’s coming out (my case), or being trans (your case), these issues we encounter and have to overcome are a prologue to life. Once we’re past that, we’re finally on the same footing as everyone else and we then have to deal with the conventional aspects of life that the rest of the world deals with. It’s not all bad, because that prologue gives us an insight into humanity, society and the workings of the world few people have… but after we’re done with it, there’s still a long river to navigate.

    • Sorry it has taken me so long to respond to this comment, I’ve been mulling it over. I think that we all have our “character builders” (being gay, being trans, being black, being a minority of some kind of other) that make up life, and make us who we are. And you’re right, some of us have bigger builders to overcome than others. Sometimes we are the biggest obstacles to ourselves.

      I will definitely check out the Ashley book, as I think I have a lot of reading time on the horizon. 😉

      Thanks,
      Eli

  2. I’ve found a lot of people have a difficult time when someone changes their mind. And so it makes us (every one of us) terrified of not having it 100% figured out, especially if we’ve already told people. This becomes especially apparent in the queer worlds (both gender and orientation) because so much focus is on “coming out.” But you know what? Humans are not static creatures. We grow and evolve and learn new things our entire lives. I’ve lost friends because I came out as a lesbian, and then lost friends again when I married a man. Obviously I’ve always been a big fat liar, right? But from my side, there was a whole host of emotional and spiritual soul searching. The old cliche is true: life is a journey, not a destination, because in the end we all end up the same. This is YOUR journey. Screw it if it doesn’t look “trans enough” compared to someone else. This isn’t their journey, so you can’t really compare, can you? You have the right to stop the car, check the map, and change course because of road conditions, or just because you want to take the scenic route and check out that tourist trap 2blocks over. You’re the one driving, its your path to choose.

  3. There’s no one “right way” to do this. Timing, sequence, what is or is not done – it’s as unique as the person doing the choosing. Anger over having to go through this process – yes, I can totally relate. And I hate being angry. But the anger is energy. Tap it – you’ll need every kilowatt.

    • “the anger is energy. Tap it – you’ll need every kilowatt.”

      Tam, this is something I will remember and repeat in the days following surgery. Thank you.

      -E

  4. I can relate to the anger. I have a lot of anger and resentment at times about the same things you’ve written about here. It may not help much, but you’re not alone by any means.

    • TPG, this does help, for sure. Having a community, or just a few online friends, who have been there, or can sympathize, or just tell me I’m not nuts, helps loads. Thanks.

      -E

  5. I have been considering that top surgery might not be the end point I have always thought of it as, but rather a beginning.

    LOL. Welcome to my world! Actually pretty much everything you said (except the part about having a real live trans friend) is a mirror image of my thought process at some point.

  6. Reading back a bit since finding you via maddox, and I really connected with this, the knowing one is going somewhere, but not knowing exactly where, and the looming sense that more is brewing even if you might wish otherwise.

    • Yes, and that feeling comes and goes, but it goes more often the more I explore its true nature. I find that that feeling of dread comes from my own self-doubt and the old stories I have been telling myself since childhood: that I am weak, and incapable, and that I don’t deserve the joy of being my truest self.

  7. Pingback: Retrospect | My Life Without Tits

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s