Before the Dawn

"Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don't belong."
                                                                               – Mandy Hale

There seems to be a lot of debate and thought lately about what makes us who we are? What truly defines us? Is it our appearance? Our genes? Our DNA? Our mind? Do they all play a part, and if so, how important is each part?

As someone who is trans, the thought of identity and what makes us who we are is a constant. Part of that is because I feel in eternal discord, so I am trying my best to rectify that, and how do you fix something you don't understand?

And so I seek understanding.

Another reason I'm bombarded with these thoughts is because I insanely read comments on trans stories on the internet. People cry out that no one can be trans and we're all mentally ill and unstable because of DNA or genetics or <<insert reason here>>.


All that said, I come FIRMLY down in the camp that we are who our mind says we are. Our mind governs what we do and how we do it. It governs what we say, how we act, and really, isn't ALL of that who we truly are?

With that in mind, I have been out as trans to everyone in my social world for years now. I have received a host of reactions to it. Thankfully most of them have been good.

The thing that's strange about it is that I think many of the people in my life accept the fact that I'm "trans", but there's no real thought as to what that means. It's like, "You're trans and I support you," and while I appreciate that immensely, a step seems to be missed.


By saying I'm trans, I'm basically saying, "Yeah, I look like a guy, but I'm not. In fact, I'm not at ALL what I appear to be. My brain is female, and to me that means that I—who I am at my CORE—is female."

It took a loooooooonnnnnnnnngggggggg time and a massive amount of agony to come to that realization, and even more time and agony for me to learn to start embracing it. It's not that I didn't explore other options. It's not that I didn't scream and cry for it to be other things. It's not that I didn't go to seven different therapists to try to find out what was really underneath it all and why I was having these feelings.

After all of that, it became clear I was having these feelings because I'm trans. I was having these feelings because I'm a woman, but yet I look the way I do. It's enough to cause self-hatred and depression to envelop you like a shroud. It's enough to make you want to die. Literally. It's nothing that anyone would want for themselves, for it's just a magnificent amount of pain.


Okay, I don't mean to get all morose with this post, but I need to establish that this is not something I dreamed up overnight. This is not some fanciful whim I flew off on. This is DECADES of self-examination. And now I'm here, trying to find a way to be at ease with who I am, and have those in my world feel the same.

Yet I'm assailed with reminders that people can't let it go. That people can't see me for who I am. That people still call me the wrong name and say the wrong things about me. That people assume that I'm some guy and that I'll get all the "guy" things and have no idea about the "girl" things... whatever the hell that genderist bullshit is. That some dude will come up to me to tell me how "hot" some woman is because, I don't know, this is what dudes do (or creeper dudes do at the very least)? It's all fucking maddening.

But, outside of that, there are people who see me for who I am despite my appearance. They get ME. They understand ME. And they want to do right by ME. So there is hope, and things on this front get better every day. This is something I need to hold onto and keep in mind.

However, even with these people doing right by me, there is still the pain I feel every single day. There is still the discord. Nothing is in harmony with me. Everything is off kilter, and it's a terrible way to go through life.

And so I seek to get that harmony. I seek to match my outside with who I truly am. And this is happening in a major way just two weeks from now, because I'm having surgery. I'm having "the" surgery, as a friend recently put it. It has a lot of monikers: SRS, GRS, GCS, bottom surgery. Yep, that one. I'm having it. I couldn't be more excited about something, and I also couldn't be more terrified.

I think the excitement aspect here speaks for itself. I know this isn't going to cure all that ails me as a person, but it's a pretty big fucking bit of medicine for my soul. It will help. Immensely. I will no longer be cursed with feeling constantly wrong. A big part of me will be fixed. I will be able to just sit and watch TV at night and relax and not be in mental pain about my discord even while doing something so supremely mundane. That will be beyond amazing.

I'm terrified because it's surgery, and I've never had surgery. And with surgery you can have complications. You can have things go horribly wrong. There's a lot of trust with this, and you just have to hope and pray that things go well.

But even without that, there's the pain of recovery. There's the reliance on other people (which I am SO not good with) while I am healing. There's just the thought of SO much with this that it overwhelms and staggers.

On top of all of this, in preparation for surgery, I had to stop hormones two weeks ago, and I have been on them for over 12 straight years with no breaks. My brain and body forgot what it was like to be hammered with testosterone and not filled with estrogen. In short, I'm a catastrophic, emotional, hormonal mess. I cry basically every day, partly because my body chemistry is SO out of whack right now, but also because ALL of the awful feelings I had before starting hormones—before getting my body in tune with my head—is all coming back at me with a vicious ferocity. My skin feels different, my brain feels different, and my hair is already coming out in clumps again. I feel like all of the progress I've made physically in the past 12 years is rapidly being eroded away, and throughout all of this, I feel like I'm completely alone in contending with this horribleness.

I know people love and support me and they will be there to help me out, and I'm SO thankful. But this is an every-second-of-every-day thing with me now, and no one can keep up with that, nor would I want them to, because they have their own lives to live, and I need to find a way to muddle through mine.

Thankfully these feelings and this physical catastrophe that I'm going through should only be for a few more weeks, then I can get back on track feeling immensely better about me, my identity, and who I am as a person. I just hope I don't lose ALL of my hair by then.

It's overwhelming to think of this thing I've wanted for so long—to feel right—is only 14 days away. It's almost like, what do I want out of life after this??

I know there's more to go with my transition and getting me feeling better and better, but when something you needed has been SO out of reach for SO long, when it's finally on your doorstep, it's almost too much to process. And yet I'm doing my best to. Every minute of every day. The thoughts have swallowed me.

I think that's all I can say about this tonight, but my brain is going MACH 5 since this has been scheduled, and I get that out through writing, so I may just pop up on here a time or two before the big day.

In the meantime, thanks to all who have helped me or someone like me to get to this point. It's a hard enough journey as is, so it's nice to have some pals to help you along the way. Many thanks and much love.

And now I grit my teeth and continue trudging my way through this last bit of darkness before the dawn. I'm hoping for a glorious sunrise.

All the best. Always.

Pardon Me, I Need to Rant

Alas, the time has come yet again for me to decry the ravings of fools.

And, truly, I don't mean to start off with an abusive or attacking tone, but those screaming sheer preposterousness for any and all to hear about people like myself... about trans people... well, it's difficult for me to see this in any serious light.

Firstly, to these people... not that you would probably ever really read this blog, but I speak to you anyway... You say trans people are mentally ill. You say trans people are simply confused. You compare saying that you're an animal... like a panda or a rhino... to being a human gender other than the one your appearance leads people to think you are...

...okay, see... that last thing you say... this is why I used the word "fools" to start the post. Because really, if you can't see the difference between someone saying their gender is more nuanced and different from most people's and SAYING YOU'RE A DIFFERENT FUCKING SPECIES... well, you a fool.

As far as the other nonsense above, this is actually REALLY simple.

Ready, here it is:

1. Who made you a doctor, such that you would know these things and can diagnose ill people? Do your numerous degrees in Psychology give you a deeper insight of the inner workings of the human psyche?
2. Are you aware that most mental health professionals recognize that trans people are not insane, and that a large portion of mental issues they may have are caused by society's attitude towards them? Do you realize that attitudes like yours make us crazy? Do you realize that your attitude, when tossed into the caustic din of attitudes like yours, costs us lives? Do you realize that when people constantly berate you and degrade you just for being who you are, that we're only human and, as steely as us transfolks can be, it eventually starts to hurt? Are you comfortable with inflicting pain on people for no good reason? And if you do think we indeed have mental issues, do you enjoy inflicting pain on those who have such issues?
3. Who knows more about a subject, someone who lives and deals with it every day, or someone who gets cursory glances into it through media blurbs that are quite often sensationalistic? Chances are that I don't share your job. Do you think after hearing 30 minutes of scattered news stories about your job that I could possibly know more than you about it? Do you think I would know anything at all about it other than what the name of your job is and maybe a really high-level understanding of what it is that you do? Do you think I could have many erroneous assumptions about your job? Can you now see that when you say the things you do about something you barely understand that you could be very, very wrong? Do you think you could possibly know more about gender and the conflict that it can cause than someone who lives with it, literally, every second of every day? Do you realize that trans people are supremely aware of gender and think about it all. the. time., and this includes researching and reading many things about it from a wide variety of sources? Do I need to go on?

Look, this is probably the most abrasive blog post I've ever written, but when you ask and ask for understanding and you get more and louder voices screaming back to you about how you're twisted and inferior, it tends to grate. All we're looking for is understanding. An open mind and/or an open heart. That's it. Can you strive for that, or would you rather stay mired in hatred?

Either way, I'm a fucking hippie at heart, so I'll send you love back, and hope, at the very least, that maybe you'll think twice before plastering hurtful words for your own misguided shits and giggles or to scratch at whatever itch you may have.

And for those of you who are awesome and supportive, I'm sorry you had to read through that, but feel free to send anyone who doesn't get it here if you ever get stumped in trying to get through to them.

I can't thank those in my life and other trans people's lives enough for the good that you do whenever and however you do it. You honestly don't know how much you help, especially when there are people saying the utter shit that this post addresses.

All the best to you all, always.

A Big Day for Big Things

For those of you who may not know, today is National Coming Out Day. And in knowing this some people may ask, "Why is this important? Do we really need a day for this? I don't have a problem with LGBT people, but why can't they just be themselves and not make everything about telling us who they love and that their gender is this one or that one?"

First off, if you have said the last comment, make no mistake, you DO have a problem with LGBT people.

But to address the first two questions that I've seen and heard people ask... well, I can only speak for myself here...

Being trans IS who I am to a large extent. It makes up a MASSIVE portion of what my life is, what I have learned in this existence, and the lens that I have witnessed the world through. The feelings and pain that this has laden upon me has shaped and eroded all things around me... family, friends, money, serenity, comfort, time, and the list goes on.

To not know that I'm trans is to not understand me as a person on any level. If you don't see this and don't understand that what I feel is true, you don't know me at all. And if that is the case, how can you even be important to me? How can you call me a friend or say you care about me if one of the biggest, if not THE biggest, aspect of my life is ignored by you?

Though this is not to say that this has to constantly be kept in mind by people interacting with me. It should just be something known, something recognized, something validated, and then you have a better idea of where I'm coming from with everything. It's a latent understanding that this is my identity and this is my struggle. If someone you know is going through an enormous amount of pain and conflict, it's not that you need to talk about it, but you should understand that it exists... well, if you want to know the person or you care about them at all.

So seven years ago today... on National Coming Out Day... I posted the following message on Facebook along with a link to this blog:

In honor of National Coming Out Day: Today, in 2010, 29 states still allow someone to be fired with NO legal recourse simply for being lesbian, gay, or bisexual, and there are 38 states where someone can be fired purely for being transgender. This means that in 38 states (including the one where I currently work), I can be fired solely for who I happen to be... you know, if I choose to make that known in the workplace. So, for those of you who don't yet know: Yes, that means that I am indeed trans.

It was a move that I would sometimes describe as nouveau-trite (you know, coming out to everyone... on Facebook... on National Coming Out Day), but there has not been a day or a moment where I have regretted any of it.

This is because I received a mountain of support and love that day, and that's something that I desperately needed at the time... and still do actually... much like many LGBT people.

This is because it makes me supremely thankful that I had a small group of close people in my life at the time who knew me for me and who were in my corner cheering for me and giving me the guts, nerve, and resolve to tell all who know me socially one of the biggest things about me and to not hide my shit in the shadows from those I care about.

This is because for the first time and on a large scale I was acknowledging THIS is who I am. THIS is me. Take me or leave me as you will, but do so for who I AM and not for who your half-shrouded notions define me as.

And let me say this, if it isn't already apparent... this was scary as fuck to do. It's scary to share that much of yourself all at once. It's scary to let ALL these people into your world and expose the rawness of all the pain that you feel to them. It's scary to anticipate reactions and know that just by saying this, just by stating who I am, people will leave me. People will say hurtful things to me and abandon me. People I care about will laugh at my pain and do so without remorse.

I have certainly been on the receiving end of bad and terrible reactions to this news... and much of it you can shake off. Then someone you truly love comes at you with all guns a' blazin' while you are completely vulnerable, and the anger and disgust they assail you with just shatters your soul. It's more profoundly devastating than I'd like to admit or acknowledge.

BUT... through all of that, coming out has brought me much closer to some people. I see this moment that happened seven years ago today as the turning point of my relationship with my mother, which has only healed and blossomed since that day. That Facebook post (and this blog, actually) opened up gates of support that didn't previously exist, and it gave all who read at least some understanding of what trans people deal with... and believe me, I have it better than most.

Coming out provides exposure: If you don't think you know someone like me... well, you do. You can then see that I'm a human being with my own set of imperfections, foibles, and struggles who is just trying to get through life... just like everybody else. And through this exposure comes empathy and understanding. And through that becomes the lessening of fear and hate.

ALL of this... and for so many more reasons that I don't have the time, capacity, or talent to state... is why Coming Out Day is so important. It gave me the strength to be more myself and take a flying leap toward happiness, and I know it does the same for countless others as well... and many of those who need an abundance of empathy and understanding far more than I.

To end this, I'll refer back to my Facebook post. Here we are, seven years later, and in 28 states you can STILL be fired for being gay, lesbian, or bisexual, which has dropped by only one. In 30 states, including the one where I live and work, you can STILL be fired for being trans (down by eight, but not enough). On top of this, a few states now have laws in place that don't even allow for local protections to be enforced for cities or municipalities that wish to protect LGBT rights. Then we have the incredibly fucking stupid "bathroom bills".... then of course there's the people running this country at the moment who are essentially waging a war on people like me, and I've already seen people suffer for it. I've seen people who enlisted to serve in the army to protect the country hurt by this... but all of this is a topic for another post and another day.

I want to leave this post on a positive note, so here's a quote from Frank Ocean about coming out....

I hadn’t been happy in so long. I’ve been sad again since, but it’s a totally different take on sad. There’s just some magic in truth and honesty and openness.

Be well, and all the best to you.

Therapy and Fairy Tales

I mentioned in my previous post how I've started therapy again, and briefly touched on the fact that it's been amazingly helpful thus far. Now I have been to at least six different therapists over the course of my life, but this therapist asked me to do something I never did before.

She asked if I would be interested in doing some expressive therapy, which, in this case with me being me and me doing what I do, centered around writing. I said I would very much be interested in it, as I want to write more, this was a great excuse to write, and the only way to catch the writing bug again is to write and write until you get it.

The writing assignment she gave me was this: Write a fairy tale about yourself.

It seemed like it could be a lot of fun, but I was waiting to write it because I wanted to give it some thought first. Then my appointment got cancelled due to the president being in town last week and it shutting down like five city blocks to the plebs like myself (side note: *GROAN*). So this writing assignment slipped out of my head... until last night... at midnight. And my appointment was today.

I knew it would probably be fine if I explained things and completed the assignment for my session next week, but I figured I would give it a go. So, I sat here, on my sofa, at one in the morning, and words just came out of me, and they came out of me in rhymes for some reason (though I guess some fairy tales do rhyme... maybe?... idk).

Annnnnnnyway... while this is stupid rhyming verse, and is actually kinda embarrassing, I'm going to share it below. I figured it's as good an update as any as to where I'm at now. Additionally, dealing with embarrassment has always been tough for me, so in an effort to get better with it, here's something potentially embarrassing that I will then have to deal with.

Lastly, when I was done writing this last night, as cheesy as this writing may be, a giant smile smeared itself across my face and I literally said out loud a few times, "That was awesome. That was fucking awesome." This is because a LOT of feelings came out of me, and writing became some sort of solace for me once again.

It also made me realize that I had forgotten one of my most favorite feelings in the world—getting in a zone with words spilling out of you, and you don't know where you are or what time it is. You eventually look up from writing (sometimes hours later), and you have something completed, and, on top of all that, you feel emotionally exhausted and cleansed.

God, do I fucking love that feeling.

So here it is. Make what you will of it. Much love to you all.

Fixing the Broken Girl 

Once upon a time, there was a girl,
Who looked like a boy,
And everyone talked to her like she was a boy
And everyone treated her like she was a boy

And so she acted in this role as best as she could

She learned all the Dos
And she learned all the Don’ts
She learned the You Shoulds
And she learned the You Won’ts

She learned what it was like
To not ever fit in
This lesson she learned

Many times and again

This filled her with hurt
This filled her with rage
This feeling she felt…
Like trapped in a cage

She battered around it
And clanged off its walls
It broke her and bent her
Her movement, turned crawls

Now limping, she falters
On broken down bones
And with each step she takes
She stifles back moans

But onward she plods
Into what, she knows not
No other option to choose from
This… is her lot

But striving for, working for,
Fighting for more
It’s what she must do now
She arrived at the door

And on she must go
As scared as she is
For what she does now
‘tis no way to live

So kick the door down
And do so with laughter
It’s the only way you can ever find
Your Happily Ever After

The End 

Back in the (Horrifying) Saddle Again

Over the past 15 years or so I've been a participant in a good handful of trans support groups. My time with these groups varied, and there are different reasons why I stopped attending each. I stopped going to the most recent one I went to, which was probably about five or six years ago, because seemingly any time someone had something to say about their lives, it was essentially, "I really wanted to kill myself this week," and this was said with all the tragic earnestness in the world. We would then discuss it until it was time to move on to the next person, who then would echo these same engulfing feelings of mounting despair and hopelessness… "I really wanted to kill myself this week." And so it went for the full hour.

The sentiment was as ubiquitous as it was affecting. These dreadful feelings cast a palpable pall over the meeting room every time I attended. 

Still, I was at a point where I was trying to connect with and help others, so I went to this group every week for a few months and tried to offer input and advice whenever I felt like I had something supportive to say. Eventually, though, it just got too grueling and depressing, and going to this particular group really started to bring me down more than not going. This is especially so because I had dealt with the whole wanting-to-kill-yourself-on-the-reg kind of feelings for years. I fought my way through them, and hadn't been truly suicidal in quite some time. Hearing the despair in the room was starting to wake these dormant feelings from slumbering deep inside me, and I knew it was time to get out.

And I don't mean to sound glib or cavalier about this, but in dealing with being trans, and reading about it, and hearing people's stories about their own journey with it over the course of a decade or so, you realize that the statistic saying that 40% of trans people attempt suicide is not only accurate, but may very well be a conservative estimate.

Being as stalled as I am with this process, lately I’ve been trying to make a firm effort to finally get past this stage of transitioning and on with my life. In doing so, I have started therapy again (which has been a GOD. SEND.), and I am fairly certain that I need to be around some people sharing this experience and to try to at least be some part of this community. I don’t have any trans friends, and while I have a ton of support from some awesome and amazing people in my life (MANY thanks!), there is a different kind of connection that you can forge with people that truly understand on a deep, innate level what you’re going through and what you’re feeling… because they’re going through it and feeling it as well. I need this in my life right now.

So, even though I was filled with the trepidation that my past forays into trans support groups instilled in me, I went back to one tonight. It was an interesting experience that I haven’t fully processed yet, but there were some first impressions that I’d like to share. 

There was a degree of familiarity to the proceedings, even though I knew no other people in the room. And while there was only one mention of a suicide attempt (in the past tense, thankfully), the stories that these people told were still tear-inducing, infuriating, and, in some cases, utterly horrifying. To hear these people… these strangers… bear their souls, to hear about their heart-wrenching struggles with their families and the people closest to them was all too similar to stories I’ve heard through the years from trans people who I’ve sat in groups with, and brought back to my mind in crystalline fashion the heartache, fear, anger, hurt, and raw vulnerability that I have experienced in similar situations and that still wells up in me during bad times.

Weirdly, this almost took me aback. In contrast to how much visibility, acknowledgement, and public support trans people have begun to experience over the past few years, the reality of the experiences I heard this evening was a clear display of just how much further we need to go as a society so that trans people aren’t suffering the way these people are… and the way I do as well.

In addition to this, I have felt that with as much acceptance as trans people have been getting lately (compared to even just five years ago), there is now a backlash. There is now a staunch, focused outrage about us, and with the most recent election, and the reaction elicited from this election… be it hate crimes, hate speak, or just amplified hatred in general… things with transpeeps have taken a step back. And it’s scary for us, even more so than the usual day to day is.

And so I’m writing today to implore everyone to seek a deeper understanding, to strive for an abundance of love, and to truly embrace those good people who happen to be different from you. Help acceptance grow. Help alleviate suffering. Help heal. Help in any way you can. There are people who truly need it, and help can only be achieved through a unified, concerted groundswell of effort, because there is seriously a mountain of work that still remains undone. Tonight proved this fact to me.

The good news here is that one mere minor step anyone takes in this direction can go hundreds of miles in helping someone out. If we all take that one minor step, think of how much bad can be eradicated.

Sincerest thanks to those of you who have already taken a step in this direction, be it large or small or many. You know not how much good you do. 

As always, much love to you all.