Words Best Left Unspoken

Sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things, I am tempted to think there are no little things.

—Bruce Barton

When it comes to the matter of addressing me, the majority of people in the world know nothing of who I am and what I’m going though, so it would make sense that they would address me in an overtly masculine way, because, woefully, I look like nothing but a guy.

Due to my stupid biological makeup, I am called “sir” by various people on a daily basis. Now obviously I’m trying to shake this title in a very desperate way, but as of yet, I can’t seem to. My size and my face are making this as insanely difficult as possible. (As a side note to this: GRRRRRRR)

Now when someone calls me “sir” and they don’t know me, I can shake it off. Sure it stings and it smacks me with proof that I look unquestionably male to anyone and everyone I happen across on the street (especially because there’s not even a hesitation or moment of uncertainty with the word “sir”, it just flows out naturally and completely unquestioned). Of course this hurts a tad, but I can deal with it… for the moment.

The real problem arises when one of these vague male monikers gets thrown at me from people who know me and know what’s going on with me. I get that I look like a guy; I intently abhor that fact, and I’m trying with utmost desperation to change it, but I understand that that’s how I look. However, the people who know me and know how much pain all this trans business is causing me… well, I think they should be able to look past the external, if even just a little bit. I mean, if you talk to me for more than a few minutes I think that it becomes pretty damn apparent that I’m not just some other dude* that you happen to know, and if you and I are close, we’ve probably spent more than a few minutes talking.

Additionally, since I’m “out” to pretty much everyone in my life, when one of the people who supposedly knows me best calls me “sir”, or “mister”, or “brother”, or even just refers to me as a “guy”, it’s like a shallow cut—one that won’t in any way seriously harm me, but if I get enough of them at once, I will slowly start to bleed out. Basically, it all adds up.

That being said, I’m painfully aware of how I live in the world at the present time, and though I don’t like the words “him” and “he” when used to refer to me, I realize that it’s tough to shake off pronouns in day-to-day conversation without sounding like you’re talking in an odd fashion. So when people speak of me, it’s much less of a big deal when they use these pronouns, especially since saying “she” and “her” in mixed company would only lead to confusion, which would only make me uncomfortable, which would only exacerbate my craziness. (As an aside to this, some people I know have stopped using pronouns altogether when it pertains to me, and I rarely, RARELY do. It’s not a super-easy adjustment, but it can certainly be done and be done in a relatively seamless fashion.)

There’s also the issue of my name, and where I used to have a major problem with it in the past, it’s just a name to me now, and basically it’s just something that I happen to be called. Calling me by a female name at this point in time would also only cause confusion and problems, so I can live with this boy name for now. It would be nice if people called me by a new name after I made the public switch, but for now, the name I have will do. Plus I can keep partially sane by telling myself that my name could be a female name anyway, if you just add “ie” to the end of it.

So pronouns, my name, stuff like that… it’s not really the issue. The problem I have is with words like “sir” and “mister” and “brother”, and this is because they’re easy to avoid and no conversational problems arise from not using them; in short, they’re tremendously superfluous. More times than not there’s no reason for a friend to be using these words except in an attempt to convey closeness. When someone calls me “brother”, for instance, I understand that they do it as a sign of endearment. What I need people to understand, however, is that this term is wholly UNendearing to me. As a matter of fact, when people address me as such, all I can think is that this person either has ZERO idea of what’s going on with me (which is especially maddening if we’ve discussed my situation in great detail), or that they just don’t give a shit. Needless to say, neither one of these is good, and people who habitually call me “sir” or “brother” get tough for me to be around for any extended period of time because it truly starts to grate after a while. So, here they are thinking that they’re saying something to promote closeness, but, if they thought about it for all of two seconds, they would realize that these words only make me feel bad, and by using them they’ll actually only push me further and further away.

So the point to all of this is to say that I get the everyday, near-unavoidable masculine language coming at me. I’m not thrilled about it, but I get it and it’s okay… at least until I make a major change regarding how I present myself to the world at large. What rankles me are the unnecessary male terms that are laden upon me by people who claim to be friends. I already have enough of this language assailing me without someone calling me “sir” or “mister” just to be “fun” and “witty”. If a “close” friend can’t understand why this is problematic to me, what does this say about their understanding of who I am as a person, and what hope do I have of the rest of the anonymous, uncaring world calling me by the correct terms when the time comes?

This is what I think about when someone calls me “sir”, or “mister”, or “brother”. As I’m sure you can see by now, it’s not appreciated.

Thanks for reading my rant. I hope all is well in your world, and that people aren’t calling you things that frustrate you and make you sad.

* The word “dude” is a funny one because I’m of the thought that it can be a very unisex term. I “dude” women, and I know women who “dude” other women, as in, “Dude, that was a crazy party the other night.” This is in no way a problem if said to me. However, just like any other woman wouldn’t want to be described as “some dude I know” or “that dude over there”, neither do I. So in this case, it’s not just about the word, it’s about usage.

Simple Science

There’s a story making the rounds about a transwoman who was booted from competing in the Miss Universe Canada pageant because she’s trans. Once again I made the mistake of clicking on the Yahoo! News story for this and reading some of the comments. (As an aside: Some people really, really suck boil-ridden ass.)

The good thing about torturing myself in this fashion, however, is that it’s inspired me to continue my response to the ignorant reasons that the grievously ignorant toss out there to hate on and condemn transpeople. So, I now present to you… 

Part II: Biology and Genetics

There’s a whole school of people who often shout things like the following on message boards: 

IF YOU WEREN’T BORN WITH A PENIS AND TESTICLES, YOU ARE NOT MALE!
IF YOU WEREN’T BORN WITH OVARIES AND A UTERUS, YOU ARE NOT FEMALE!
IT’S SIMPLE BIOLOGY!!

-or-

YOU’RE EITHER XX OR XY.
IF YOU ARE XY, YOU ARE MALE AND ALWAYS WILL BE MALE!
IF YOU ARE XX, YOU ARE FEMALE AND ALWAYS WILL BE FEMALE!
IT’S SIMPLE GENETICS!! 

Now as far as science goes, I like it well enough, but I am NOT very adept at either biology or genetics; so the fact that I can even muster up an argument to these two statements kind of shows just how hollow they really are. First let’s deal with biology.

Birth defects* happen all the time. As examples: boys can be born without testicles, and girls can be born without ovaries. Additionally, there are hermaphroditic people in the world who have ambiguous genitalia at birth, so according to “simple” biology, what does that make these people, male or female?

Also, what if something happens where either the testicles or ovaries have to be removed? Does that mean that the person is no longer male or female? If a guy gets into an accident and his genitals are destroyed, does that make him any less of a man? Is a woman who’s had a hysterectomy less of a woman?

In reality there is nothing simple about biology. To break down what someone’s gender is purely by what’s between their legs or what internal organs they happen to have at a given point in their life doesn’t take into account any of the myriad things that can happen to someone, either through some type of defect, disease, or accident. In short, this is a foolish and erroneous way to label and box people. Attributing someone’s gender to what kind of “equipment” they happen to be sporting doesn’t address any of the variations that occur in this multiple-shades-of-gray world, which makes it a poor way to discern such things. 

To springboard off of this, and to tie in the genetics aspect, there are people who have complete androgen insensitivity syndrome (or CAIS). This, from my dime-store understanding of how the human body works, is when someone’s cells are unresponsive to male hormones. This is present in the womb; so what can (and does) occur, is that there are people who are XY chromosomally, but have the genitalia and outwards appearance of a typical female. 

What I found even more interesting about this condition is that XY people with CAIS don’t have ovaries, but have testicles (oftentimes located internally). However, since the body can’t process the testosterone that is produced by these testicles, it is essentially converted to estrogen, which will feminize the body. The overwhelming majority of people with CAIS are born without fallopian tubes or a uterus, but they will develop as women, and, way more often than not, will happily live their lives as women. So, can we disregard all of that and say that they are men purely because they are XY? Well, according to the haters on the message boards, yes… though I, and I’m sure these women with CAIS, would staunchly disagree.

This alone should prove that genetics is not in any way “simple”. To add to that thought, there are also people who are born XXY, XYY, XXXY, XO, XXX, XXXX, and even XXXXX. So yes, let’s all just break it down into XX and XY. As we can see, there are no variations to this at all and everything is as black and white as the braying people on the message boards make it out to be.

Now if all these departures from the norm exist, who’s to say that the brains of transpeople aren’t just different from what their bodies say they are? I’m sorry if all of this information dealing with biological and genetic diversity destroys the basic cut and dry definitions that the uninformed strive to cultivate, but, you know, the facts are what the facts are. Apologies to the people who hate and avoid facts, because the facts are here, and they’re coming to get you.

I hope all is well in your world.

* I'm using the word "defect" only as a way to state that these people are born different from what’s seen as “the norm”, and I am in no way calling these people "defective" or the like. I mean, being trans could actually be seen as a “defect”, though I obviously don't think that trans people are defective in any way.


UPDATE (4/4): The decision to ban this woman from the pageant has since been overturned, and she can now compete. I'm pretty sure this blog post had everything to do with the reversal of this decision.

(Note: I'm 100% certain this blog post had nothing to do with the reversal of this decision.)

Jealous, Jealous AGAIN

We’re all probably a little jealous of something that someone else has that we don’t: Be it a great job, an awesome house, a partner, kids, or even straight hair when yours happens to be curly. I’m no exception to this. I would also love to have an amazing job, or someone to come home to, or kids, or something as trivial as straight hair. I don’t go so far as to consider these people who have what I don’t with any degree of contempt or animosity, but I do recognize when jealousy starts snaking through my innards.

The tolerable thing about jealousy, like all emotions, is that it tends to come and go. If you don’t think about that other person’s job, or house, or car, it’s easy to stave off the envious feelings that may surround these things. Jealousy is at its worst is when it’s incessant and inescapable, which is how mine happens to be with regard to a certain situation that I tend to blog about on this site.

You see, what I’m jealous of on a constant and crippling basis, is women. All women. Every single one of them. That woman sitting next to you right now? I’m jealous of her. The woman you just saw on TV? I’m jealous of her. I’m jealous of the woman you saw picking her nose in the supermarket last night, and the oblivious woman who was making your commute this morning ultra-annoying, and even the one in front of you at the convenience store checkout who smelled like mothballs and dirty kitty litter. Oh, and I’m jealous of that woman you saw just now… and of her… and that one… and her… and her… and her… and yes, her. In fact, if you’re a woman and you’re reading this, I’m jealous of YOU.

I’m jealous of the fact that women can just go about and live their lives, fit seamlessly in the world, wear whatever gendered thing they want to wear without even raising a hint of an eyebrow, and not have to undergo tens of thousands of dollars of insanely painful procedures just to look like and be accepted as a woman. Not discounting the societal problems that come with it (glass ceiling… objectification… insanely stupid legislators… etc.), the simple aspects of just being a woman, looking like a woman, and living in this world as a woman are effortless endeavors for women; whereas, although I know that in my head I am most certainly female, there is NOTHING effortless about me attempting to do these things, and this makes my life excruciating.

Like I said, jealousy is at its worst when it’s incessant and inescapable, and mine is certainly that. You can stop thinking about that car or a house that you're jealous of, which sort of makes the jealousy ease up a bit, but I can’t stop thinking about women; half of the population are women! But still, there are times where I’m hurting so bad that I can’t even bring myself to watch a TV show with women in it, because I’m too distracted and overcome by jealousy when I see these women on screen to even pay attention the show itself. I can’t avoid women, and I most certainly wouldn’t want to, because I LOVE women and women make up the large majority of my closest friends.

And even if I could avoid women, which, like I said, I wouldn’t ever want to, I would (and do) find myself getting jealous of men. Not that I want to be a man in any way, but, essentially, I’m jealous of anyone who hasn’t been inserted inside of this I’m-the-wrong-sex meat grinder. The fact that men, like women, don’t even have to think about their sex, and the fact that it’s not an issue to them in any way, shape, or form... yeah, I’m wildly jealous of that as well. I’m wildly jealous of the fact that 99.9% of the population can just blend in and be when it comes to the issue of sex and gender, because it’s NEVER going to be the case for me. NEVER. It’s ALWAYS going to be an issue.

So, if I’m desperately jealous of all women and all men all the time, how do you think this makes me feel about myself and my life? Can you imagine? Well, here’s a hint: I’m filled with hate about both things. Always.

By writing the above I am in no way saying that no one has it worse off than me and my fellow transpeeps. There are a ton of people in more dire situations than I’m in, and my heart truly, truly goes out to these people. But, life still throws its usual bunch of crap at me, much like it does to everyone else on the planet. I’m not exempt to all of the bad things that could happen to a person throughout the course of their life; I just have to deal with all of that and deal with how all this trans bullshit makes me feel on top of everything else. So I try my best (I really do) to smile and put on a happy face, even when I’m constantly shredded by intensely frustrating feelings of jealousy, self loathing, and despair.

Don’t you just love peering inside my happy, sunshiney world? What really blows my mind is that there are STILL people who think that being trans is a choice and that people go out of their way to feel this way for shits and giggles. Yes, who wouldn’t want to be a part of all the joy that I described above? With all the good stuff it brings to your world, I’m surprised more people haven’t chosen the sheer happiness of deciding that their body doesn’t in any way match who they are. </end sarcasm… and this post>

I sincerely hope that you don’t have it worse off than me, and if you do, I offer you my heartfelt empathy, hugs, and love. Be well.

Cover Me

Living without healthcare is a VERY dicey proposition. There’s not a one of us who would willingly want to do that, and if we were living without coverage, I’m sure it would be super-high on our priority list to get something in place with utmost haste.

But what happens if your chronic ailment isn’t covered by insurance? Well, essentially, that’s the same as not having coverage.

As I’ve stated in the past, there seems to be more and more evidence that people are born trans. Something happens in the womb, wires get crossed, and someone like me gets born.

Now you can look to the majority of the posts that I’ve placed on this site to see the amount of mental carnage that this bestows on someone. I don’t want to get too sidetracked with covering that ground again, so let me just say that it’s hellish.

The RECOMMENDED treatment for people such as myself is cross-gender therapy, which consists of hormones and other cosmetic procedures designed to get your body in line with your head. However, the costs of these treatments are well beyond the point of being called “substantial” and pretty much crash through the threshold of “egregiously obscene”.

Electrolysis, for instance, costs anywhere from 70 to 100 dollars per hour and it takes anywhere from 100 to 400 hours to clear an average face of hair. I’m already 200 hours in and I still have so much hair left on my face that I can’t even really think about the outlay of time and money that waits for me, because it seriously makes me want to die. I’m at least going to need another 200 hours of getting a hot needle jammed into my face over and over again. After a two-year break that I had to take from this delightful process so that I didn’t bankrupt myself, I finally just started electrolysis again at a cost of 85 per hour. So, you know, that’s about seventeen THOUSAND dollars I have to come up with right there, and that’s not counting the money that I spent on the 200+ hours that I already endured.

On top of this, many male-to-female trans peeps require some kind of facial surgery in order to live in the role that they feel they belong. These surgeries, at their most basic, can run anywhere from 10 to 30,000 dollars. And sex reassignment surgery (which is the “big” surgery that most people think about) costs in and around 20 grand. This cost is even higher for female-to-male trans folks (I’ve read in the $50,000 range), and they would have the added cost of removing their breasts, which also carries quite the price tag (I’ve seen this vary from anywhere between $7,000 to $20,000).

The money needed to deal with this condition that I was born with, and a condition that has wreaked tremendous havoc on my life, easily floats somewhere around $100,000… all of which I would have to pay for myself with absolutely NO help from health insurance.

ALL I want out of life at this point, is to get through this. To get through the whole process of transitioning and be done with it, so I can stop thinking about it and just live my life for once. That’s it. Just PLEASE get this monkey off of my back. I’m INCREDIBLY tired of dealing with it and having my entire world on hold because of it. I’m almost 40, and until I get this sorted out it’s near impossible to build a relationship, or to feel truly secure in any career, or just to settle in and enjoy life. 40% of trans people attempt to KILL THEMSELVES. It’s not hard to see why when you have this much stacked against you.

Many health plans now cover mental health, and they allow so many visits to a therapist within a given year, so there is SOME value that these faceless corporations place on their clients’ mental well being. But I, and many, MANY other people, have this unrelenting mental agony, and the RECOMMENDED treatment for this is NOT covered by most of the health plans in this country. More and more people employed by LGBT-friendly companies are getting some of these costs covered, but there are still a staggering amount of people who are struggling to deal with all of the trans bullshit while trying to scrimp and save enough for one of these NECESSARY surgeries, AND, at the same time, trying to scrape together enough money for yet another hour of electrolysis, or for hormones, or for a host of other things.

As I said, ALL I want out of my life at this point is to get past this and be done with it and live my life. And, though it’s taken me a hella-long time to get my head in the right place to do this, I’m so, so, SO ready for it to happen. But while I do okay when it comes to making a living, I have nowhere NEAR enough money to complete this process, or even to take another big step towards that goal. If I did, my life would be AMAZINGLY better. I’m not saying all of my problems would be solved, but a really big problem would be, which would give me more patience and more mental energy to focus on any of the other issues that life hits us all with on a daily basis.

My point in writing this is to say that being trans and dealing with it is my MAJOR health issue. It’s what I desperately need treatment for, because it’s slowly destroying me. For the sake of thousands and thousands of people, trans-related procedures need to start being covered by health care providers. They NEED to be. If it was, my life, and the lives of SO many others, would drastically change for the better in an instant.

Let me repeat that…  

Thousands of lives would change for the better in. an. INSTANT.

And while these surgeries and the like may seem cosmetic, they are not. They are the RECOMMENDED treatment for someone in my position. I DREAM of having the cash to complete this process. If the treatment for my major health problem was covered by health insurance, however, I wouldn’t need the ungodly amount of money required, and I could address all of this and move on with my life in a mere couple years, rather than the glacier-like pace that I’ve been forced to take, which should get me to my goal, hopefully, by the time I’m 80. You know, if I can make it that far.

I hope you’re faring much better than me when it comes to your health care. If you’re not, I send you nothing but love and the hope that things improve for you as quickly as possible.     

*For additional reading click here.

The Retreat

As we all know, life can tend to get a little nuts. From time to time we all feel like we’re caught in the clutches of a raging shitstorm, getting battered and tossed about like we’re out to sea, riding through a hurricane in a dinghy.

It’s during these times, when you’re getting hit with blow after blow and you’re stumbling and reeling in every misguided direction, that you need to stop everything, slow it all down, and regroup.

When 2011 began, I was caught in such a maelstrom. I was being whipped and whooped by life, no matter which way I turned. In an effort that I thought would cultivate momentum and push me through the beating, I blindly plodded forward, making poor decision after poor decision and completely losing myself in the process. I was essentially a shattered shell of a person as last year began, and when something is shattered, you have two choices: either you throw it all out, OR you start the laborious process of piecing it all back together again. Since I didn’t really want to toss away my existence, I chose the latter route.

So, how do you start putting your life and your own self back together? Well, the very first thing you have to do is to get out of the storm. You have to retreat. You have to seek shelter. It’s impossible to build anything in the middle of a torrent.

For me this meant completely pulling back from social interactions and from people in general. Not that all of the people in my life were causing problems for me or anything like that, it was just that they all contributed to this din that was slowly crushing me. I had to remove myself from it and find center again. I had to find myself again, specifically the self that existed outside of all exterior influences. In short, I had to quiet all the noise so that I could better listen to the voice inside me that was growing more and more faint.

So, this past year I spent a whole hell of a lot of time alone. Not that I was secluded like a shut-in (side note: “Secluded Like a Shut-In” would be an excellent name for an album), but my social interactions were extremely limited. It was a lonely year, it was a sad year, and it was a very tough year to get through. By the end of it, however, I had quit smoking, I had lost weight, and I had saved a small but decent-sized amount of money. Most importantly, though, I had found my center again. I found the parts of me that were completely lost. I reestablished my identity on my own terms by figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be, and through that I regained my confidence.

I simply cannot stress enough how much confidence governs one’s life. As an example, I was on a trip once, cruising along on an empty mountain road, when I got hit with a mild panic attack that caused me to suddenly question my driving ability. Now I consider myself to be an above average driver, so it’s not like I had any doubts about this stuff before. It was just a rare occurrence that struck me one afternoon, and because of it, not surprisingly, I started to drive a little less straight, I had to pay a lot more attention, and the very simple act of rolling along this lonely, serene mountain road became a herculean task.

To get past this, I first had to stop these insane thoughts from coming at me. Then I had to simply trust myself again. I had to remind myself that I’ve spent two decades and hundreds of thousands of miles behind the wheel of a car. I had to know that I could do this and that it really was no big deal. Once I did that, once I trusted in myself, I didn’t have to think about the process of driving at all, and I just coasted along merrily.

The point to all of this, is that when you don’t trust yourself, everything gets 100 times more difficult, and when last year began I had absolutely zero trust in myself. So I retreated from everything, pulled away from most, and wound up regaining my edge, my mojo, or whatever other word you want to use for it. I began trusting not only in myself again, but also in who I am. By doing this, I rediscovered the following things about me.

Your smile is endearing.

You’re quick and you’re clever.

You can make people laugh.

You’re a delightful smart ass.

You can handle what life throws you.

You don’t care a smidge about what people who are unimportant to you think about you.

You can laugh at yourself and at the problems of day-to-day life.

You are able to understand deeply and love unconditionally.

You are a fountain of untapped potential.

You are worthy of any and all kinds of love.

And finally…

There is no one else exactly quite like you. Embrace it.

Yeah, 2011 was a BRUTAL year for me, but wow was it important. I think you can probably understand why.

I hope all is well in your world, that you know all of the many good things about you, and that you are feeling supremely confident. There really is no other way to live.

Choosing the Right Battles

I’ve been seeing stories about how Neil Patrick Harris used the word “tranny” on Kelly Ripa’s morning talk show the other day, and then, to his credit, quickly apologized for doing so. If you’re not familiar, a lot of people in the trans community feel like the word “tranny” is an extremely hurtful slur, so much so in fact, that I recently saw it referred to on a LGBT-friendly website as “the t-word.” Personally, I think that this is a bit much.

Speaking solely from my own feelings and opinions on it (which I would think have some validity, since I am indeed trans), I never found this word to be particularly hurtful. I don’t prefer this word, but if someone says it to me with genuine affection, I just kind of see it as a variation on the words trans, transgender, transsexual, etc.; and I’ve even actually used it once or twice to describe myself to people. HOWEVER, if this word, like pretty much any word, is hurled at me on a spear of derision, my take on the word tends to change, which I think would be an obvious reaction.

As far as ways to describe people like myself, this one is about the least offensive to me. Terms like “she-male,” “chick with a dick,” “it,” “he/she,” or even good ol’ fashioned “faggot” (yes, we get hit with this one too) are FAR worse.

What does grind my gears here, is saying stuff like “I sound like a tranny” or “You look like a tranny.” I find statements such as these to be highly offensive, not because of the word “tranny,” but because the majority of trans people find both their appearance and their voice to be points of extreme pain in their daily lives. To poke fun at that is just kind of mean and callous towards us. And on top of that, just what does a tranny look like… or sound like for that matter? At the most recent trans group I went to, there were no two trans folks in the room that looked or sounded in any way the same. To lump us together in that fashion is insanely more dehumanizing than using the word “tranny.”

Additionally, there’s just horrible depictions of us all throughout the media. Even on NPH’s show How I Met Your Mother (which I really do like and is actually extremely gay friendly) there have been a few instances where they made trans people the brunt of their jokes in ways that ONLY hurt. In one episode, for example, the main character, Ted, is trying to figure out why his friends despise the new girl he’s dating, to which we get a flash of him imagining various reasons that may have caused them to be so averse to her.

The first is him imagining this girl saying that when she was in 10^th grade she told everyone that her English teacher had sex with her and he’s still in jail because of it. The second vision Ted has is this girl saying she volunteers at the pound where she kills unwanted puppies... and gets a rush from it. The last reason Ted imagines for the gang wanting him to immediately break up with her is because she says that she used to have a penis.

So, you know, being a trans woman would not only be immediate grounds for all of your friends screaming for you to break up with her, but it’s also on the level of killing puppies for pleasure and lying about a teacher having sex with high school students and getting him put in prison for years and years. Yeah, all of this is way, way, WAY more offensive than someone saying the word “tranny.”

Even in the clip with NPH, it’s not that he says the word tranny, it’s that he says that he sounds like a tranny. And… AND he quotes the killer from Silence of the Lambs, who singlehandedly makes me detest that movie. I’m certain this film has made a ton of people think of the creepy scene where the killer is “tucking” himself in front of the camera and saying “I’d fuck me” whenever they hear the word “tranny.”

Now, I do get that the movie is not saying that all trans people are horrible serial killers, and they even say that Buffalo Bill was denied cross-sex treatment because he wasn’t actually trans, but the fact that NPH quotes this character, then says he sounds like a tranny, proves that people do actually see this character as trans. Maybe I'm overstating this a bit, but personally I think the tucking scene has set trans people back a good decade or so when it comes to public perception.

The point to all this being, some trans advocates may be getting their feathers a bit too ruffled when someone says the word “tranny,” ESPECIALLY when there are FAR more hurtful descriptions and depictions of trans people out there. It doesn't make sense to be upset about everything, because pretty much everyone will stop listening to our valid complaints. So what should we be more upset and speak out about? I say we should rail against negative portrayals and stereotypes of trans people, rather than getting all bristly when someone utters a variance of the word transgender.

Just my two cents.

All the best to you.

Sickening Sounds

When I was younger, long before I was truly aware of what was going on with me and Overcompensation was my normal mode of life, I was told that I had a good speaking voice. It was deep, and loud, and clear, and attention grabbing. In fact, a friend of mine once told me an idea he had for a radio program and how he wanted me to be the announcer because I had a great voice for it. Yeah, mine was a nice sounding voice... but it was also very male sounding.

As time went on, and I became more fully aware of the lurking issue that was about to completely devour me, I not only came to hate everything about how I looked, but I really started to loathe my voice as well. So I worked at it and worked at it, and after all of the time and effort I put in to make it sound more feminine, I can only sound half decent on the best of my better days. More times than not, any sound waves that emanate from my head generally make me wanna retch, both violently and copiously.

The really fun part of this is that it’s not just limited to speaking. Whenever I cough, sneeze, laugh, cry, or jettison any other sound from my skull, I die a little inside. This problem is woefully exacerbated when I have a cold, or allergies are acting up, or I have a couple drinks and get The Stuffed Up Drinker's Nose. When any of these things are in play, I basically just don’t like to speak, and this reticence is even greater when I'm around others. 

Being that when I entered 2011 it was already going to be a cloistered year for me, this trifling little issue with my voice made it even more so. I didn’t want to go anywhere, because that would mean that I’d have to be social. Not that I have any issues with being social… I actually ENJOY being social. But in being social, I would have to talk to people, and when one talks to people, they generally use their voice. This is not something I wanted to do in any way.

The searing pain that my physical appearance bestows upon me grows exponentially and gets worse with each passing day. Lump the whole hating-how-I-sound thing into the conversation and it's no wonder that I've been magnificently anti-social over the past year. At times it's a real trial to even face people in the workplace, and I've spent a large majority of my "vacation" time this year, not taking any kind of real vacation, but using most of my 20 days off to call out of work and talk myself down from various ledges.

This is what it's like. This is what it feels like at all times. It's nasty, and relentless, and it's always tearing at you. It's also only getting worse. Thankfully I find ways to cope. I'm not exactly sure how. I guess after a while you just get used to dealing with a certain amount of pain when it's with you every day.

All that being said, please know that I'm fighting to get past this and I'm forcing myself to be more social than I have been... but it's been very difficult. I really just wish this insanity would stop.

Much love to you all.

Plans, and Signs, and Trust, and Faith

"Any change, even a change for the better, 

is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts."

– Arnold Bennett

When I was 27 and in the early stages of getting my head wrapped around this whole troubling gender thing, I decided to quit my job, uproot my life, and move from Philadelphia to Palo Alto, California. It seemed to me that this could be a good way to take a step back from everything and see just who it is that I really am, and to find just exactly what I wanted out of life.
 
Now, at the time, I'd gone on a few family road trips—the longest being a couple treks to Florida—but I'd never actually driven anywhere close to that far. Even on the trips to Florida, I was still a kid, so I didn't do a lick of the driving. The furthest I had actually driven by myself at that point in my life was the six hours it took to get from Philly to Pittsburgh, so tackling the entire country solo, while exciting, seemed just a bit daunting.
 
On the night that I set out, I had maps and all the rest pointing me in one direction. "Just get on that road and drive," I told myself. "If you keep going along that road, you'll eventually get to where you need to be." And it really was that simple. I reached Interstate 70, got on, and just drove. I'm talking good 10-hour days of driving (at least). The scenery changed as I drove, sometimes by immeasurably small increments, sometimes magnificently and breathtakingly quick. The world looked more and more unfamiliar, and for as well as I knew the land and country that surrounded me, I could have quite literally been driving in circles and been none the wiser.

Maps laid the framework for my plan to traverse the country, but the only real guidance I had along the way... the only thing telling me that I was actually going in the right direction and not getting hopelessly lost... were the small signs that intermittently peeked out at me from the side of the road that simply read 70 WEST. As long as the signs told me I was going in the right direction, what choice did I have other than to believe it? 

And so I went on, following the signs, turning where appropriate, and four days later I arrived at my destination.


Now the trip I described above is only a short one compared to the huge travel arcs that occur in our lives; and I'm not talking physical distance here. I'm talking about the trips as a person you take throughout your life. Whatever it is that you want to do, be it losing weight, quitting smoking, saving money, starting a business, or, you know, changing your sex, it truly is going to be a long, tough journey (as anything worthwhile usually is). 

On these quests we often have to step outside of our comfort zones and change our lives and even the way we live. These changes can vary from mild annoyance to excruciatingly rough. And when it gets rough, there is nothing more detrimental than to start thinking that you're on the wrong road, and that you're putting yourself through pain and discomfort for nothing.

It's in times such as these, when you feel that you're going in circles and that you're not making any progress, that you need to remember your plan, your basic guideline of what you want to do. Then you need to start looking for the small little signs that are telling you that you're heading in the right direction. They're not as easy to spot as signs you see on the highways, nor are they as frequent, but they are there. We must know to look for them, and actively do so. 

And when we do see them, they may not be obvious, they may be subtle, and they may not be representative of the progression we were hoping to see. It is then that we have to trust ourselves enough to know that what we are seeing is progress, and that this progress is the result of the plan we have made, the work we have done, and the change we have initiated.

When you see the small signs telling you that you're going in the right direction, even though you may feel lost and tried and cranky from the trip, trust yourself enough to know that you're reading the signs correctly and that you ARE headed in the right direction. 

Additionally, you have to have faith in the process. If it has taken you to the point where you see real signs of progress, and you know that you'll get to where you need to be if you just keep plugging away and going in the same direction, trust that the road you're on will take you there. Trust in it to the point that you know it. What choice do you have other than to believe the signs that life is showing you?


I bring all of this up because a couple months ago I embarked on an overhaul of my life. I'm suddenly doing a lot of things I thought I'd never really do, and a lot of these things are causing me discomfort, pain, and even a nice bit of sadness. That being said, during this time I've not had a single cigarette, lost close to ten pounds, and have been able to put some cash into my savings account for what seems to be the first time in years. 

So as much as this overhaul is regally sucking, these giant signs are telling me that I AM heading in the right direction. If I keep going along this road I will get to where I need to be. I don't just believe it. I know it.

Here's to hoping that the road you're on in life is easy and well marked.
 
All the best.

Acknowledging Change (a.k.a. Dem 'Mones, Dem 'Mones)

As I mentioned in my previous post, I've been expending a great deal of mental energy lately trying drive off an overwhelming depression that seems to be swallowing me whole. It's a depression that stems from the whole trans issue (obviously), and since I don't feel like playing a rousing game of "Jonah!", I need to find a way out of its belly.

As I've also mentioned, there are many things I'm trying in order to get this to happen. So... here's another thing that I'm doing:

Whenever anyone gets in a situation that they don't like... be it a bad living situation, a bad job, a bad relationship, financial straits, or whatever... most people will generally take steps to make things better. And when we try to make things better, a lot of times it seems that the process goes oh...................so.......................slowly. Like imperceptibly slow. To the point where it feels like you're not moving at all. Which is precisely how it feels for me at this point in time (hence, you know, the hungry depression that's been making a hearty meal of me).

There's this illusion of permanency that hangs over bad situations. This is especially so when it's a situation that will only get better through years of effort. It seems like nothing ever changes... and it gets annoying... and it gets frustrating... and it can make you very, very sad.

SO... I needed to keep reminding myself that the permanency (read: nauseating stagnation) I feel actually IS an illusion, and that things ARE happening to me all the time that will get me closer to my goals. I mean, I quite often feel like I haven't made a lick of progress since I started taking hormones about 6 years ago. It feels like this was the last big change that happened in my life. And I'm sure that this may seem a bit insane considering all I've been through, but it still feels like things aren't moving at all, and I've been doing the same thing on repeat for the last 6 years.

Now when I look at the events that occurred during this span of time in my life, I know that a LOT has happened. There's not a year that's gone by where I haven't had some big, life-altering event shake up my world in major ways. Sometimes the events were good, and sometimes not so much. BUT they did change me. They did move my life forward. They did cause me to grow as a person in some way. In short, things DO change.

However, I've been dealing with this trans thing for so long, and I still have SO far to go with it, that it seems like I'm just running in mud. The molasses-in-winter speed of this process is enough to make you want to start beating your head off a wall for the better part of a year. It seems like nothing happens with it. Ever.

Now this is inherently false. Much and more has happened in regards to this issue over the past 6 years: coming out to more and more people, getting more and more support, getting better and better with myself, accepting myself more, LOVING myself more...

All of this should be a constant reminder that, even if it doesn't seem it, things ARE progressing. Some of these things seem quite nebulous, though, so it's hard to feel like there's concrete evidence of change, and I start to feel like I'm making a lot of it up. I know now, however, that it's just a matter of having faith in what you're doing and having faith in the process. Acknowledging these things has made it a LOT better for me over the past few weeks.

And if that's not enough to help me feel better, there's that big thing that happened 6 years ago, and the effects of that event, to show me IN REAL PHYSICAL TERMS just how far I've come. I mean, physically I'm not even the same person I was 6 years ago. I'm pretty f'n different... and, more importantly, closer to my goal... as I keep having to remind myself for some reason.

So, after that long introduction, I'm now actually going to remind myself of some of the effects that hormones have had on me since I began taking them in the summer of 2005. I also thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to cover this since a lot of people seem to ask me what hormones do and what they don't do, so hopefully this will be helpful for that reason as well. Additionally, I find it an interesting insight as to the differences between men and women, especially those that are induced by hormones. Keep in mind here that I take 2 small pills in the morning and 2 small pills at night—a pill of estrogen and a testosterone blocker, twice a day—and doing this is enough to bring the following changes.

I found a list on Wikipedia of hormone effects and I shall now kind of breeze through that list and talk about my experience in regards to said list item (where pertinent). Ready? K, here we go...

Firstly I would like to talk about a few very important things that hormones do NOT do. 

Hormones do NOT change your voice... at least going from male to female it doesn't, because your vocal chords have already thickened during puberty. Voice DOES change, however, when people go from female to male, though I'm not really here to talk about that side of it at the moment. A lot of people have said that my voice sounds very different, but that's mostly due to practice, practice, practice. It's gotten a lot better, but I still have a good way to go with it. Consistency is my biggest issue, but let's move on lest I get bogged down in this topic.

Hormones also do NOT remove any facial hair. That all has to be burned off through various annoying and expensive treatments. Electrolysis is the only proven method of permanent hair removal and they say it takes 100 to 400 hours to clear a face of its hair (at a cost of $65 to $100 an hour). Being about 200 hours in, and still having a great deal of hair on my chin and neck, I can attest to the fact that this is very much true.

Hormones will also not cause my hips to widen, though had I started at an earlier age when my bones were still growing, they would have. Generally speaking, the more removed from puberty you are, the less effect the hormones will have. I started when I was 32. Changes would have been much more pronounced if I began at 22... though they would have been less pronounced if I started at 42.

Hormones will obviously NOT change my height. Essentially the skeleton I have is the skeleton I have. It's just the way it is. Cosmetic things can be done to the skull to give someone's face a more feminine look, but height, arm and leg length, and all that other good stuff is pretty much fixed.

Now, here (according to the Wikipedia) is what hormones do, though I did edit this list down to practical things that I can discuss: 

-  Body hair thins greatly. I noticed this on my arms and legs. I didn't have much hair on my torso to begin with, and now I have none save a few stray hairs that stick around even though they are most unwelcome. They don't seem to care that they're not wanted, though. Little annoying bastards. 

-  Thicker head hair. More than a few people have said this is the case with me, including my hairdresser who has no idea that I'm taking hormones. Part of this is that the texture of my hair has changed. It's just thicker, shinier, and less coarse. Additionally, from what I've read, it seems that the hair I lost while younger may have started to come back because there were some follicles that weren't completely dead, and they were revitalized by the estrogen. Some follicles have died, however, and I pour some of my 40 out whenever I think of these fallen homies. I'm pretty certain, however, that at the rate my hair was going, if I hadn't started hormones when I did, I would be bald by now. And while I do have some issues with my hair, and it's certainly not the thickest head of hair on the planet, I do think it's manageable and that it can look good at times. So, you know, hooray for hormones... and all that.

-  Decreased libido. Yeah, totally true. When I first started hormones it was like someone came in and cleared out my head, because getting bombarded with testosterone all the time made the majority of things in the world center around sex (or so it seemed to me, anyway). When you remove that, and you can finally see the world outside of that vantage point, WOW does it look different. It was like getting a whole new take on the world... and it's one that isn't dominated by sex. It was refreshing when it happened, and I'm still very happy that this is the case. This is not to say that I don't have ANY thoughts of sex, I just don't have thoughts about it all. the. time. Which is nice. For me anyway.

-  The skin becomes softer. YESSSSSS. It did. It's great. Sometimes just having a hand on my arm and feeling my skin is the biggest reminder of how much I've changed. It seems as soft as melting ice cream compared to how it felt before. It's tremendous. I love it.

-  The uppermost layer of skin becomes thinner "and therefore more translucent and pinkish (spider veins may appear or be more noticeable), less collagen, more susceptible to tearing and irritation from scratching or shaving, increased tactile sensation, and slightly lighter in color due to a slight decrease in melanin (pigment)."

This is actually one of the more noticeable changes from the hormones, believe it or not. Now I don't know about the lighter in color, because when I started I was already a nice, paper-like shade of blinding white. But there's definitely a different look to my skin. It's more shiny, to be succinct about it.

I also get clear indicators reminding me to be more careful with my movements, because when I'm not, scratches and bruises magically appear ALL over me. Maybe this is why women generally move a bit more gracefully than guys? Before hormones I would RARELY notice a bruise or scratch on my body, let alone have any; now it's like I'm never without one. Odd.

Finally there's the increased tactile sensation. What does that mean exactly? Well for starters, it means that I get cold. Like really, REALLY cold. PAINFULLY cold, in fact. And I used to love the cold weather. I mean severely LOVE it. Like wanted to make out with it because I loved it so much. Now it just HURTS. I tell guy friends of mine, "Yeah, you don't even KNOW what it's like to be cold. You may think that you do, but you just don't." And I didn't either. Then there were hormones.

The flip side of this, however, is that I realized the sheer amazingness of a good, hot shower cutting into the back of my neck and shoulders. It is SO. F'N. GREAT. Additionally, with the aforementioned softer skin, this heightened tactile thing is where it's at! The stuff that felt nice already, feels even nicer now. 'Tis fantastic.

I should also mention here that in addition to skin becoming thinner, my nails have as well. I used to do home remodeling when I was younger, and I remember using my fingernail to turn smaller screws (like on a receptacle plate) with no real problem. I tried to do that once recently, and it literally tore my nail. I never had a nail tear in my life before hormones, and now I'm thinking that I should be hitting them up with some clear polish or something just to strengthen them because they rip and tear a LOT.

-  Due to reduced gland activity, dry skin becomes a problem and lotions and oils may be necessary. Totally. I never, ever, ever, ever, never had dry skin before in my life. And now I hate winter because not only am I painfully cold (as I mentioned above), but the skin on my hands basically cracks and peels right off. It's brutal. I can't tell you how much moisturizer I go through, and still I get cracked, bleeding,  f'ed up hands. If you can't tell, I'm not too jazzed about this change.

-  Body odor (skin, sweat, and urine) will become less "metallic," "sharp," or "acrid" and more "sweet" and "musky." I haven't noticed this because I don't often smell of the b.o. (nor do I often make it a point to sniff at my urine), though I feel like I have noticed some differences with this. Just nothing I can really confirm mostly because... 

-  Many types of sweat glands become inactive and body odor decreases. Which I'll take... though I'm betting that the whole "less sweating" thing leads to the whole "stupid dry skin" thing. I guess that there's just a good and bad side to everything. 

-  More fat tissue accumulates. Yeah, I have a lot more fat than I used to. Part of that may just be getting older, but just the way I'm shaped is now completely different. It's also a HELL of a lot harder to lose weight because of this (you know, because muscle burns off fat, while fat, surprisingly, does NOT), and it's also a LOT easier for me to get drunk (according to this article from the NY Times, "Because women's bodies have a higher ratio of fat to water, they reach a higher blood alcohol concentration after a single drink than men, even when matched for weight and size."). 

-  Sensitivity to male body odor(s) (including male pheromones) may be positively correlated with elevated estrogen levels. Overall, olfactory senses may increase.  The latter point first... I definitely smell things better and more intricately than I did before. I remember the first time I noticed this. I was walking through the woods a few months after starting hormones and I was overwhelmed by how much I smelled. Scents were coming at me from every angle. It was crazy. And delicious.

I also had a moment about a year or so after starting hormones where I was walking down the street with a friend of mine and I said, "I smell boy." And right then and there two guys came walking around the corner. I've also told guy friends of mine who were fresh from the shower that they "smell like wet boy." And they did. That's exactly what they smelled like—wet boy. I'm not entirely sure I even knew what that smell was before.  I should try to make a Wet Boy scented candle to capture the scent.

-  Breasts develop. Yeah, they did. They're not as big as I would've hoped, but they're certainly there and they're fine. I'm turbo-happy about that fact, but I've discussed this in other posts, so I'm not really going to get into it here. Just wanted to say that this does happen from hormones, as opposed to the things I listed earlier that don't. 

-  Fat distribution takes on a more female pattern. To this I'll just say that I had zero ass when I started this process... I mean like negative ass... and now it's a whole heck of a lot fuller. It's now to the point where I notice it. Like, I was lying on my floor the other night and was amazed that the small of my back doesn't lie as flat to the floor as it did before, which kinda feels weird. I can also feel more "junk in my trunk" when I walk. My thighs have also gotten bigger since I started hormones, and I should mention that none of this is because I've gotten heavier. Since starting hormones I've lost at least 30 pounds, and yet there's still this odd kind of fat collection going on. 

-  The face appears "puffier" and more rounded out. My face looks completely different and more than a few people have told me that. People who didn't know me before I started hormones are sometimes shocked to see older pictures of me. I wish I had two to post to this page by way of comparison. I'll have to look into that and try to do it another time. 

-  The metabolism slows down and one tends to gain weight, lose energy, need more sleep, and become cold more easily.  This compounds the thin skin factor for coldness. Brrrrrr. I don't really need much more sleep, but I've never been much of a sleeper anyway. Sometimes I feel a bit more run down, though, and if I eat anything even remotely bad for me these days, I can rest assured that I will gain weight. Part of all this metabolism slowing thing may just be me getting older as well. It seems that most of the changes I notice in myself are addressed with the question, "So, is it age or hormones?" I will say, however, that the food thing is maddening, and I work my ASS off trying to lose weight, and it's rare to see a change. I'm sure if I was doing everything I'm doing now before I started hormones, I'd be absolutely, 100% at my goal weight.

-  Due to androgen deprivation a loss of muscle tone, a slower metabolism, and physical weakness becomes more evident. I addressed the metabolism thing above... so to move on... my arms, as an example, don't look like "guy arms" anymore, to the point where my forearms are actually curved differently now and look pretty much like a woman's arm. My upper arms aren't big or bulky in any way, and they're much smaller than they were before. I also noticed that I have less physical strength than before, and things that I would move around with ease before (like this big-ass arm chair I have in my living room) now takes a good bit more effort. Additionally, before hormones I felt like I had this reserve strength or something, but that has since disappeared. Like if I was struggling with something, I could strain and get a nice boost of strength (I should say here that I was pretty f'n strong before). Now when I strain it kinda seems like nothing happens, you know, other than me making that straining noise that one makes when they're straining.

And finally, to wrap up this uber-long post, here's two weirdly interesting things: 

-  The hips will rotate slightly forward due to changes in the tendons. As crazy as it sounds, this totally happened to me. About two years into hormones (right when I upped my dosage), I started to get hip pain. It got better over time, but I've noticed since that I can't really stand the way I used to, nor can I really walk the way I used to. This also kind of makes my butt stick out more, and it's just kind of crazy in general. I never thought anything like this could happen, yet it did. I find that fascinating for some reason. Like taking these pills every day can cause your HIPS to ROTATE. Nuts.

-  The lens of the eyes changes in curvature. Now I never actually had it measured and compared, but I did notice about a year or so in that things just started looking "off", and I was getting headaches, having trouble judging depth, and weird things like that. This eventually got better, probably because I got used to it, but I do think that things look differently now. I wish I could explain it more than that, but I think that I've been seeing things for so long through these new lenses that I can't really say what's different anymore, though I know that it most certainly is.


Like I said, those are most of the physical effects that I've noticed. There are also some major mental ones that hormones have brought on (but that's a post for another day). With all of this going on, and with all of the amazing differences I've experienced, it's probably pretty delusional to think that "nothing ever changes" and that I'm "stuck". As I said, I've been acknowledging these things more and more, and that has certainly helped in my battle against The Big Sad. 

And now I better go. Thanks for bearing with me through this longish post. I promise I won't make it a habit.

Be well.

Oh, Look...An Actual Positive Post

As those closest to me know, I've been going through a major bout of depression lately. It's a bad one. Like a really, bad, BAD one. And this is coming from someone who's gone through their fair share of depressive times. I can honestly say it's one of the worst bouts I've ever had. Ever.

BUT (as this is a positive post)... I've been feeling slightly better and better with each passing day. This is the case because I've been coming to certain realizations about life, and also remembering important things I learned in the past that I have, through the normal passage of time, since forgotten. What follows is something I remembered recently that is a helpful thing to keep in mind in the coming days:

I should preface this all by saying that the massive span of the entire stupid trans issue is at the root of this last bout of depression, which is probably rather obvious since: a) that seems to be the cause/reason for pretty much everything that decides to pop its head into my life, and b) this blog is about said entire stupid trans issue... so, you know, there's probably a reason why I'm bringing it up here. 

A major part of my depression was triggered by the fact that I've reached a point where I don't really want to deal with this anymore. This issue, which has utterly dominated everything in my life for the past 15+ years, is something that I just can't DO anymore. I can't take feeling bad every time I look at myself. I can't take the constant question of what I'm going to do next. I can't take thinking about every. single. aspect. of this situation over and over and over again every single fucking minute of every single fucking day. I can't take the fact that THAT'S how wrong I feel at ALL times, that it feels SO terribly wrong that I can't block it out anymore and just LIVE. And I certainly can't deal with the fact that the "answer" to all this is to go through hundreds of hours of treatment, grotesque amounts of surgery, and spend a shuddering amount of money to only then TRY to present myself to the world in a way that's as close as I can possibly get to how I see myself, even knowing that the wide majority of people will never see me for that AND that I will probably never feel truly "right". It's grueling. And it's an utterly horrible way to live. 

And the crispy chocolate coating on top of this sundae of joy is the fact that instead of staring at themselves in the mirror and gritting fuck...fuck... fuck through their teeth at their excruciating reflection every night, most people are busying themselves with falling in love, with getting married, with starting a family, with furthering their career... in other words... with BEING CONSTRUCTIVE AND LIVING THEIR LIVES.

And here I am, slipping further and further into middle age, still contending with these horrible feelings that consume the whole of my energy and strength, and not knowing what to do... because there really is no good option here. There just isn't. And even if I knew what to do, how do I put thought and energy into this massive undertaking when I'm basically struggling to make it from one day to the next without an utter collapse?

I feel phenomenally trapped. Trapped because this is something that I HAVE to deal with; it's not going to go away, and actually, it just gets worse every day. There is no choice here, because this is just who I am and how I was made (as a very good and astute friend keeps reminding me). So, as epically shitty as it all is, I still have to deal with it. Always. I'm trapped in this issue and trying to gnash my way through the bars doesn't seem to be working. 15 years is far too long to spend in a cage.

To... ahem... get to the positive here...

What I remembered recently that is slowly getting me past some of these feelings, is that most people are trapped only because they allow themselves to be.

There was a story a while back about a guy who sold all of his things, save the clothes on his back, and took all of his money in the world to a casino and put it ALL on one spin of the roulette wheel. And what I thought about this is that anybody could do that. Not that they would do that, but that they could do that. You really could go and do that. Now you probably wouldn't want to deal with the consequences of such a risk, but it's important to realize that you have that kind of power. You CAN do big things like this if you so desire, although you have to accept what the outcome of your actions will be.

You don’t have to be where you are, doing what you're doing. You can do whatever you want to do. You could literally quit your job tomorrow. You could leave behind your family and friends. You can run off and join a cult. Hell, you can even sell everything you own and move to China if you wanted! You could do all of these things. Really, you could.

And if you have the ability to do all of these outlandish things, there certainly has to be a way to take positive steps to change your life. Even if they're only minor, there ARE things that can be done.

Now hopefully you're living a life full of happiness, and you don't feel trapped in any way, and you don't feel like you need to break out of some sort of metaphorical cell. Hopefully. 

For those that do, you have to realize that you and you alone are in charge of what happens in your life. You CAN make decisions. Your are very rarely a victim of circumstance enough to have NO say in the direction of your life. YOU get to say where your life goes or where it doesn't go. You DO have that power.

Keeping that in mind, very few people are ever truly trapped, they're just presented with options where the outcomes are unappealing to them. In that case, you have to just learn to accept what the outcome of your breakout will be. If you can't do that, and every way out of your cell is less appealing than being in it, maybe what you consider being trapped isn't really all that bad and you should just chill the f out.

As I said, the important thing is to realize that you almost ALWAYS have options. You are never trapped. Once you know this, and ingrain it in the way you view and live your life, it gives you a certain kind of freedom and relief, and it punts a very annoying (and probably angry and diseased) monkey off your back, clearing the way for you to address more pertinent issues.

And so what I'm re-realizing is:
I am not trapped.
I have things I can do to make my life better.
I best find what they are and get hoppin'.

Be well, everyone.