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For those who've followed the twisting turning path that is my life, caring enough to drop a note, or lift up a prayer, thank you.
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Fortunately, this isn't about drama. Not about rejection, divorce, hostility or any other negative emotion.Nor is it about weight loss or weight gain, physical problems, or the vagaries of my doctors. All of those are present, it's just they've taken a backseat to something I'd nearly forgotten exists.
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Acceptance.
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My soon to be ex-wife and I were introduced to each other by our best friends. A running gag between the four of us was my best friend's fiance was my fiance's best friend, or another way my fiance's best friend's fiance was my best friend. We've stayed close over the years. So... when my wife decided a divorce was in order (she didn't want to be in a lesbian relationship, and I really can't blame her for that), one of the unpleasant things we've had to deal with was how to tell our best friends.
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Now you need one more piece of information to understand this. I've been a chaplain or pastor for many years, and our friends are also quite deeply involved in their church. Yes, we're all part of the hated class of Christians. Sometimes the rhetoric around here can get pretty hostile.
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I've not had a very good track record telling friends about being Transgendered. In fact, I've been batting zero.
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Out of the blue our friends called to let us know they were down here, and when could we get together?
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I felt like part of the Fellowship of the Ring, walking in the mines of Moria, DOOM... DOOM...
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We took a deep breath and invited them over.
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We were sitting around the dining room table, and after the most meager of pleasantries I launched into "You're probably going to hate me for this, it's not Deb's fault. I'll understand if you want nothing more to do with me." In other words, I was being my usual, debonaire, lovable, and positive self.
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Who am I kidding? I told them I was TG, and let them glimpse the perfect hell that can mean. I was expecting the worst, and what I got instead was loving acceptance.
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While I'm writing about acceptance, there are two other's in my life that accept me, as I am. One is a cousin. The other is my mother.
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My mom is in the hospital, she had a very minor stroke that has been resolved, but the doctor wanted to do a workup of all the things that might have caused it. Thursday evening, we sat and talked for three hours. All my life, she has been my very best friend. I learned recently that even when I was very young, she thought of me as her best friend. Not that it would keep me from getting paddled if it was called for. As she ages, her short term memory has started to get a bit shaky, but her long term memory has gotten stronger, perhaps in compensation.
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Mom told me something she had never mentioned before. She knew. From the very beginning she knew I was a girl. I was a gorgeous toddler -> teenager. Every time someone said "she should be a girl, she's too pretty to be a boy," my Mom would smile at the backhanded compliment. She also knew when I was seven or eight I made a choice. I would NOT be the butt of other kids' pranks. After a very memorable session of teasing, I ran away from class to the principal's office at school. I resolved then and there to always choose what I perceived as the most masculine thing to do. I hated baseball (well actually I loved playing, but I couldn't run worth a damn - I ran like a girl. I hated football, but played it. It was expected of me. Mom pointed to these, and others.
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I suppose gender was not the immutable thing culture insisted was truth. Some of that may have been the "pretty" comments, but I suspect part of it was always my Mom. When she was being playful with my brother and I, she'd often say, "Well when I was a little BOY, we did..." Mom may have been F to M in those dark ages before Christine Jorgenson. She was at the very least a tomboy. The fluidity of gender her comments communicated as I was growing up certainly allowed me to conceive of another course of action, besides the one culture dictated.
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|sigh... I know, I'm either long-winded or lecturing again.
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It was an affirming time I spent with Mom in the hospital this week. We talked of things it was probably a good idea no one else heard of. The soreness in my breasts, which comes and goes as the hormones continue to shape my body - she shared hers took three or four years until everything was fully developed.
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I never thought I'd talk to her about half the stuff we talked about.
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In the dark cave which is my life, my Mom lit a candle, and made sure I knew of her love.
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Wow,
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Beth
Comments
Acceptance
Acceptance is always good. I think I have been very fortunate in that so far I have received acceptance from almost all I have told. It would seem that when it comes to mothers our stories are similar. The day I told my mother last month about my decision to transition she told me that she had suspected since 1977 (I was 16 then).
My lasting memory of my mum
was - she'd been quite ill with stroke and heart attack and I went out to Australia to nurse her. She needed a shower but couldn't stand or wash herself and asked me to help her. She was naked, and I tried not to be embarrassed and to equalise things I stripped off to help her shower. I was post op about three years at this time. She looked me up and down and said, "You've got a good pair of thighs, girl," and no more was said about it.
Angharad
Acceptance is good :D
But don't buy into the Kyriarchy's bullshit about females not being able to run right or play sports well. No matter your gender you can rock at sports if you've got the right body type and put forth the effort :D Plenty of gals have done awesome things in sports, don't listen to the jerks who try to tell you otherwise.
Also, since you asked for prayers, I'll make sure to send a prayer to the Goddess and Gods for you.
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D
Running hard and going no place
If I seemed to imply women cannot run, then I surely do apologize. I suppose I could have/should have expanded on that.
My father, while I loved him dearly, could be blind at times. His yelling at me to "quit running like a girl" was, I think, his way of trying to shame ME into running faster. During games, he'd switch his comment to "come on lightning!"
Running and I have never gotten along. When I was little, I was diagnosed as being knock kneed. It was actually far worse than that. My lower legs do not line up with my upper legs. It's about twenty degrees out of line. It wasn't so much related to gender as it was to physics. Running is a deceptively complex motor and skeletal process. In my case, all the pressure was on my instep. It caused my shoes to wear down on the instep.
Ah well. I hope that clarifies things a bit.
Beth
Running , Christians, Whatever.
Just some mixed random & not so random thoughts.
Running:
I am out-toed and pronate, plus have a lazy eye, so traditional sports was never for me, although my parents made me do some as a child. This does not explain why I was never interested in following sports, my sister however is. Go figure!
Christians:
Are good and bad like everyone else. It is the individuals take on things not the basic religion that is the problem or the blessing. One can't help but wonder what God's reaction will be to those what are oh so wrong yet are actually sure they are right when they finally meet him/her.
Acceptance:
One bit of acceptance is more then worth many instances of non-acceptance, treasure them. And Remember To Accept Your Self!
>i< ..:::
Growing up in the 50's
I remember my sister running and for certain, she was much more graceful, and there was lots of stigma in our family if my sister out ran even me. I remember her having to attend deportment class, and Mother chiding her to swing her hips and forcing her to wear a girdle. In our family, that was a woman's lot.
I know there is around 2 inches more distance between the thigh bones on a woman, and the ligaments in the knee are more loose. Many muscle attachments are different ... :)
Weirdly
I have the same sort of knees. Had to have physical therapy as a baby to learn how to walk and running and I have never been pals. I'm missing a piece of cartilage in each knee and some in my hands and feet, too. When I was in my 30s, I was told I would probably need knee replacement surgery before I was 50 but my knees are still OEM. :) My shoes always wore out on the outside of the heel. My mother, brother and nephew all have or had weird feet, too; though none of us had the same oddity. Some timing gene in the development of extremities didn't sync properly, apparently. I understand that this is not that uncommon.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
No
I was saying that gender does not determine the way you run. That's mostly social political cues that society feeds to children. The statement "Quit doing X like a girl" is highly offensive and extremely showing of a patriarchial and kyriarchial society. Misogyny runs rampant in this world, recognizing it is the key to resisting it and being able to take back your power.
Anytime someone says they ran like a girl, that should be a compliment not an insult. Notice how that's a typical type of bullying people do? They just say "Wow you hit like a girl," "Wow you run like a girl," "Haha you act like a girl!" As if that's something so terrible so horrible? Pretty fudged up aint it?
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D
A Wise man once said
" it is better to light a single candle than to curse the dark." that man if I remember right was Confucius. I don't know your friends that well so I can't walk a mile in their shoes. Enjoy your life with those that accept you as you are and ignore those who will try and judge you. Your family here at BC while we may not be blood are here for you.
Acceptance is better
Acceptance is the best thing that a person could give you. The acceptance of strangers is great. Going out, being myself in public and being accepted is a wonderful thing. Even more so when they are people whom you've had to deal with in male mode (IE store clerks) and then when you show up en femme and they don't blink an eye and are super friendly, more so than before.
But acceptance of a family member or friends close enough to be family is even better. The first person in my family to accept me as the true me was my father. I've detailed that in "Silence is Golden" , though I didn't tell that later on, I decided that I needed to test that acceptance and visited him in his latter years totally en femme and he simply took it in stride. I wish now that I'd been totally up front with him from the beginning. (At least from my teen years when my sister outed me to him [long story].)
Since that time, my wife has accepted me en femme everywhere except church and family events. But best of all my oldest daughter (my troubled child, the one who had the most trouble with a transgendered father growing up) has totally accepted me even to the point of going shopping and out to lunch with me totally en femme. :o)
Hugs
Patricia
Happiness is being all dressed up and HAVING some place to go.
Semper in femineo gerunt
my mom is my biggest supporter
I literally wouldn't be here without her in my corner.