I had a dream last night; one of those half-day dreams that happen near the edge of sleep, when you're not sure which parts you crafted yourself and which parts are from dreamland. I was invisible.. just a watcher. My wife stood on an empty sidewalk, peering down at the figure of a man, walking slowly toward us. She choked back a sob as she realized who it was, unbelieving that it could be true.
The man was me, only, not me, but the person I've tried to be for so much of my life. He was everything everyone thought I was until I told them otherwise, now a complete person; and I was gone. In dreams, you often know things that are known, somehow, to everyone. In this dream, he, and she, and I all knew that this man was real, and that no part of me or my gender was left in him.
He walked slowly up, smiling gently. "I'm back," he said. In two words, all her fears and horrors were dispelled, and all her most earnest hopes and dreams returned. They embraced and cried. She held him so tightly, clinging to every future hope that he represents, knowing that her own nightmare had finally ended.
...
And as I stood there, watching, alone and unseen, I was at once, so very happy, and so very sad. What I would do to buy that moment for her, to grant the girl I love the dearest dream and hope... one that had been promised, but falsely, long ago, and to which we've worked and laboured together for so long. Our Future. Our Life. But in that moment, knowing, and more so, feeling so keenly what relief had swept over her cut such sharp contrast over reality. That man doesn't exist. He's never existed, and I can't give him to her. The only person here is me, and as I walk up a sidewalk, there are no tears of joy... I am, in a terrible way, "half the man I used to be," or likely a bit less. A compromise solution.
So I pause here, keyboard awash in tears, wondering what it is I've done wrong. I've carried this storm with me my entire life, and now that it's out, it's reeking exactly the chaos I always feared it would. How happy my dearest loves would be if I didn't exist, but some other person. But I can't give them what they want, and they must tolerate, rather than love, who is left... my bare heart, aching and yearning for love... just a girl asking to be loved...
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
A Long-delayed Explanation
Anonymous Wrote:
I've known I'd have to write this post for some time, but, as things often go, have tried to delay the inevitable. When I started this blog some months ago, my whole hope was to combat my dysphoria through my writing. I thought, if I could keep reminding myself of all the reasons why transitioning "will hurt everyone," that, through patience and discipline I could keep that hammer from falling onto my brittle life.
So what's changed, since then? I guess it's been a lot of things, some lesser, and some much greater. My line of reasoning for non-transition was really three-pronged, and each of those three ideas have been challenged. Firstly, my wife didn't want me to change. That alone, I thought, would keep me locked up forever. I would die for her, so why not live, albiet as a man that I'm not, for her? Secondly, my kids... How to even begin expounding all the ways society would make their life difficult because of me... and lastly, because, in love, I'd rather be hurt than to hurt; to sacrifice rather than require sacrifice, to cry myself, day after day, rather than cause tears.
What I hoped, was that in reminding myself of these, in clear, plain writing, which has so often helped me focus my thoughts and encourage myself, I might help myself endure, and, with any luck, help other people who are trying the same thing. I'd found nobody else like me, after all, and figured that if we were out there, nobody would know, precisely because we weren't transitioning. I thought maybe, somebody out there, might feel less lonely and hopeless because of me. Vain, maybe, but not the worst kind of vanity... Something inside of me wanted to know that I could be a positive addition to the world, rather than a problem only...
And it is that longing which has finally made the difference. I am afraid, that whether by design, or by some "failure" to endure, that I am not able to keep these weights on my shoulders... I love people, and want so badly to be a good thing to them, but when my whole self, my heart and soul,... all of me, has to be chained up, erased, and forgotten in order for others not to be hurt... it just makes me feel miserable. This word has been used too much by teenagers, I think... What I mean is real, soul-breaking misery. I am not valuable enough to be. The people I love most will only be hurt (and terribly so) if they see who I really am. So went the thoughts. It is unbearable for a soft spirit like me to know that, at best, I can only come out even with the world... add enough good to somehow make up for the apparently horrifying, disgusting truth hidden away inside. But how can I live as a wash? A compromise solution... And so, the old thoughts crept back in.
They are mourning over me already... and as long as I'm here, they will always mourn the loss of the boy they knew, that this "new me" has slain... might I spare them the lifetime of mourning all-together, and myself be free? My death would hurt my family, but I started wondering if it would hurt less, in the end, than my life. Kids, after all, lose parents all the time, and, if they are young when it happens, aren't too much the worse for the wear once they've grown... These are false statements, all, but that's how the mind works...
When I realized I'd become suicidal again, I knew that I'd lost one of my choices. I am terrified of being in that place again.. I've spent too much of my past on the verge of death... and I am terrified of it. I can't lose myself. If I die, even inwardly, then all the things that I am hoping to keep for my family are lost as well. A nice-looking, soul-dead father is not a father at all, nor a husband... I wish I had been someone else, someone stronger, or someone without emotion... someone else... because then I wouldn't be this problem. But, for better or for worse, God was pleased to let His daughter live. He liked me enough to allow this strange life... He knew the tears I'd cry all my life, and was willing to cry them with me, because I was valuable to Him. So, finally, I choose life... in what ever form I can have it, and I will hold up just as many of these plates as I can; maybe once a few come crashing down, we'll realize that the remainder are still quite nice to live with.
A Few Other Things
So there are other aspects of this. My wife realized, fairly recently, that, in insisting that I stay masculine, had lost her position as my safest place. There are defences I have to hold when I'm with her, so that I don't hurt her, and so when she says things that hurt me, even well-intentioned things, that I don't retaliate or make her feel bad for who she is. She realized that, if we take this path, she will always have been my de facto jailer... and the relationship between us could not be what either of us wanted. She wants to be the safest place on earth, for me, but cannot be that place if I have to find other people, mostly other trans girls, to cry with.
Hold that thought for just a moment so to add one more thing. Since I am in my 30's, I am nearing certain genetic cues that will make me very much more masculine than I have been. I will start losing my hairline, my beard will start becoming that "sexy" ash-tray look that the males in my family all have... My forehead and jaw will continue to become more angular. My body is getting hairier. These are horrifying things for a girl to go through... If that girl is already crying about having to live in a boy's body, these changes are entirely defeating emotionally. I cannot face it...
So these two reasons are why we decided that I really need hormones. I will no longer continue becoming more masculine, and that will buy both of us time to process. My wife's also been looking at pictures of post-transition women, and has realized that all her mental images are of drag-queens, which are NOT what most trans girl wants to look like... fairly counter-productive if all your feminine features ACCENT your masculinity, rather than erase it, after all.
Our Current Plan, and Unresolved Issues
So what she's suggested, not without a lot of fear, and a strong agreement not to set any of this in stone, is that I will go on hormones, and, once my body is far enough along to pass well, then start transitioning with clothing and such, but only at home. This is a bit backward from many ladies, who transition socially at the same time, or before, starting hormones, and then letting their bodies catch up. She knows, even though she doesn't like it, that seeing me in a "half-and-half" position will illicit a lot of transphobic gut-reactions, and she doesn't want that. Once I've transitioned at home, we'll also let our Church and local friends know, but not present as female in those places at first. The reason for this are two-fold. First, everyone needs time to decide whether they'll stick with intolerance or not. Forcing something on somebody is a very good way to get their negative counter-reaction, rather than the positive one that may (or may not) come through relationship, conversation, and contemplation. Secondly, and more importantly, it will mean that our girls will not have to be secret keepers. Everyone in their life will already know, even if they haven't seen, that I am transgender. There will be awkward moments, of course, but we hope that this will help reduce much of the shame they might otherwise feel.
We also want the two girls (our son is not yet one year old) to take part in the process. Let them help with things like clothes or hair, things we already do together, but now with me involved as a female. Our oldest, in particular, we want to be involved. Since the hormone changes will be so slow, it should give us a very nice long while to rework our family dynamic. I hope this will help.
What we don't know how to manage, is all of our old friends, churches, and, of course, family... there are some very intolerant people out there, and while most of them are not close friends, many are friends of friends, and will make things very challenging. My wife feels a lot of shame, in this regard. What will people think of her, after all. Will they look down as a mother, for keeping her kids in such a "toxic environment." Will they degrade her in their minds as one of "those homosexuals."
There's just all kinds of wonderful things to worry about in this category...
We also don't know how things will be in regards to intimacy and romance. We'll work on it, and rest assured, I will NOT blog about it much. (quite shy... and private... yeah...) There are religious questions that we are still grappling with as well.
So yeah, a lot of changes. The thrust of it is that I cannot be anyone if I am depressed and suicidal. Since this is not a chemical depression, but one caused by social marginalization, drugs would only help if they made me into a vegetable... so I've lost my choice to stay male. With that option gone, we are trying to make the best of what options remain. It hurts immensely. I know that the hammer is starting to fall... and it will fall on my wife most of all. The pain she feels is unbearable for me to see... but I cannot blame myself like I used to. I just can't go there again.
I am sad for the spouses that may read this blog. I hoped that I could encourage them... as much as the trans girls themselves, their wives face terrible emotional and societal abuse. I want to be helpful, but I don't want to be deceptive either.
Finally, anon, I want to encourage you in your faith. I WOULD NOT BE HERE except for Christ. He was the only one that held my hand through all the suicidal nights, all those many years. He is far more real than many people realize, and has been my ever-present help and encouragement. I would not know how to love, or to bear with, or to sacrifice except that He showed me first. Pray and listen, and He will help you both through this. He designed and chose both of you, and IS WITH YOU NOW. He will not abandon you to this, not ever. You are not alone with your spouse in this struggle, and He, unlike us, DOES see what's ahead, and brought you on this road. There is a reason for it, and it is a good one.
Thank you for your comment. I am sorry it took me so long to write this. Look me up on tumblr (haileygirlme) if you or her would like to get to know me (or potentially my wife, but she's a bit shy online). There are not very many Christian-identified transgender girls and spouses that I have met, but the few that have, have been so very good to know. You can message me through this blog, as well, if you like.
So to all who read this, thank you for walking with me through this. The love and support I've found in some of you ladies has been crucial during this period of my life. All my love and kindest regards!
- Hailey -
Hi Hailey, My husband and I are in a very similar situation. He is a non-transitioning xy tg girl, who lives fully as a man to the outside world. We are also new to our Christian life as well as our tg life. We found your blog about a week ago, and felt like we found kindred spirits in you and your wife. We were surprised to see your post about your hrt appt and beginning the transitioning process. If you don't mind my asking, what changed? And, what about your wife and little ones? How are they dealing with this change of plans? Thank you for being here online. It means a lot to us to have found someone dealing with similar things. You've been a comfort to my husband.
I've known I'd have to write this post for some time, but, as things often go, have tried to delay the inevitable. When I started this blog some months ago, my whole hope was to combat my dysphoria through my writing. I thought, if I could keep reminding myself of all the reasons why transitioning "will hurt everyone," that, through patience and discipline I could keep that hammer from falling onto my brittle life.
So what's changed, since then? I guess it's been a lot of things, some lesser, and some much greater. My line of reasoning for non-transition was really three-pronged, and each of those three ideas have been challenged. Firstly, my wife didn't want me to change. That alone, I thought, would keep me locked up forever. I would die for her, so why not live, albiet as a man that I'm not, for her? Secondly, my kids... How to even begin expounding all the ways society would make their life difficult because of me... and lastly, because, in love, I'd rather be hurt than to hurt; to sacrifice rather than require sacrifice, to cry myself, day after day, rather than cause tears.
What I hoped, was that in reminding myself of these, in clear, plain writing, which has so often helped me focus my thoughts and encourage myself, I might help myself endure, and, with any luck, help other people who are trying the same thing. I'd found nobody else like me, after all, and figured that if we were out there, nobody would know, precisely because we weren't transitioning. I thought maybe, somebody out there, might feel less lonely and hopeless because of me. Vain, maybe, but not the worst kind of vanity... Something inside of me wanted to know that I could be a positive addition to the world, rather than a problem only...
And it is that longing which has finally made the difference. I am afraid, that whether by design, or by some "failure" to endure, that I am not able to keep these weights on my shoulders... I love people, and want so badly to be a good thing to them, but when my whole self, my heart and soul,... all of me, has to be chained up, erased, and forgotten in order for others not to be hurt... it just makes me feel miserable. This word has been used too much by teenagers, I think... What I mean is real, soul-breaking misery. I am not valuable enough to be. The people I love most will only be hurt (and terribly so) if they see who I really am. So went the thoughts. It is unbearable for a soft spirit like me to know that, at best, I can only come out even with the world... add enough good to somehow make up for the apparently horrifying, disgusting truth hidden away inside. But how can I live as a wash? A compromise solution... And so, the old thoughts crept back in.
They are mourning over me already... and as long as I'm here, they will always mourn the loss of the boy they knew, that this "new me" has slain... might I spare them the lifetime of mourning all-together, and myself be free? My death would hurt my family, but I started wondering if it would hurt less, in the end, than my life. Kids, after all, lose parents all the time, and, if they are young when it happens, aren't too much the worse for the wear once they've grown... These are false statements, all, but that's how the mind works...
When I realized I'd become suicidal again, I knew that I'd lost one of my choices. I am terrified of being in that place again.. I've spent too much of my past on the verge of death... and I am terrified of it. I can't lose myself. If I die, even inwardly, then all the things that I am hoping to keep for my family are lost as well. A nice-looking, soul-dead father is not a father at all, nor a husband... I wish I had been someone else, someone stronger, or someone without emotion... someone else... because then I wouldn't be this problem. But, for better or for worse, God was pleased to let His daughter live. He liked me enough to allow this strange life... He knew the tears I'd cry all my life, and was willing to cry them with me, because I was valuable to Him. So, finally, I choose life... in what ever form I can have it, and I will hold up just as many of these plates as I can; maybe once a few come crashing down, we'll realize that the remainder are still quite nice to live with.
A Few Other Things
So there are other aspects of this. My wife realized, fairly recently, that, in insisting that I stay masculine, had lost her position as my safest place. There are defences I have to hold when I'm with her, so that I don't hurt her, and so when she says things that hurt me, even well-intentioned things, that I don't retaliate or make her feel bad for who she is. She realized that, if we take this path, she will always have been my de facto jailer... and the relationship between us could not be what either of us wanted. She wants to be the safest place on earth, for me, but cannot be that place if I have to find other people, mostly other trans girls, to cry with.
Hold that thought for just a moment so to add one more thing. Since I am in my 30's, I am nearing certain genetic cues that will make me very much more masculine than I have been. I will start losing my hairline, my beard will start becoming that "sexy" ash-tray look that the males in my family all have... My forehead and jaw will continue to become more angular. My body is getting hairier. These are horrifying things for a girl to go through... If that girl is already crying about having to live in a boy's body, these changes are entirely defeating emotionally. I cannot face it...
So these two reasons are why we decided that I really need hormones. I will no longer continue becoming more masculine, and that will buy both of us time to process. My wife's also been looking at pictures of post-transition women, and has realized that all her mental images are of drag-queens, which are NOT what most trans girl wants to look like... fairly counter-productive if all your feminine features ACCENT your masculinity, rather than erase it, after all.
Our Current Plan, and Unresolved Issues
So what she's suggested, not without a lot of fear, and a strong agreement not to set any of this in stone, is that I will go on hormones, and, once my body is far enough along to pass well, then start transitioning with clothing and such, but only at home. This is a bit backward from many ladies, who transition socially at the same time, or before, starting hormones, and then letting their bodies catch up. She knows, even though she doesn't like it, that seeing me in a "half-and-half" position will illicit a lot of transphobic gut-reactions, and she doesn't want that. Once I've transitioned at home, we'll also let our Church and local friends know, but not present as female in those places at first. The reason for this are two-fold. First, everyone needs time to decide whether they'll stick with intolerance or not. Forcing something on somebody is a very good way to get their negative counter-reaction, rather than the positive one that may (or may not) come through relationship, conversation, and contemplation. Secondly, and more importantly, it will mean that our girls will not have to be secret keepers. Everyone in their life will already know, even if they haven't seen, that I am transgender. There will be awkward moments, of course, but we hope that this will help reduce much of the shame they might otherwise feel.
We also want the two girls (our son is not yet one year old) to take part in the process. Let them help with things like clothes or hair, things we already do together, but now with me involved as a female. Our oldest, in particular, we want to be involved. Since the hormone changes will be so slow, it should give us a very nice long while to rework our family dynamic. I hope this will help.
What we don't know how to manage, is all of our old friends, churches, and, of course, family... there are some very intolerant people out there, and while most of them are not close friends, many are friends of friends, and will make things very challenging. My wife feels a lot of shame, in this regard. What will people think of her, after all. Will they look down as a mother, for keeping her kids in such a "toxic environment." Will they degrade her in their minds as one of "those homosexuals."
There's just all kinds of wonderful things to worry about in this category...
We also don't know how things will be in regards to intimacy and romance. We'll work on it, and rest assured, I will NOT blog about it much. (quite shy... and private... yeah...) There are religious questions that we are still grappling with as well.
So yeah, a lot of changes. The thrust of it is that I cannot be anyone if I am depressed and suicidal. Since this is not a chemical depression, but one caused by social marginalization, drugs would only help if they made me into a vegetable... so I've lost my choice to stay male. With that option gone, we are trying to make the best of what options remain. It hurts immensely. I know that the hammer is starting to fall... and it will fall on my wife most of all. The pain she feels is unbearable for me to see... but I cannot blame myself like I used to. I just can't go there again.
I am sad for the spouses that may read this blog. I hoped that I could encourage them... as much as the trans girls themselves, their wives face terrible emotional and societal abuse. I want to be helpful, but I don't want to be deceptive either.
Finally, anon, I want to encourage you in your faith. I WOULD NOT BE HERE except for Christ. He was the only one that held my hand through all the suicidal nights, all those many years. He is far more real than many people realize, and has been my ever-present help and encouragement. I would not know how to love, or to bear with, or to sacrifice except that He showed me first. Pray and listen, and He will help you both through this. He designed and chose both of you, and IS WITH YOU NOW. He will not abandon you to this, not ever. You are not alone with your spouse in this struggle, and He, unlike us, DOES see what's ahead, and brought you on this road. There is a reason for it, and it is a good one.
Thank you for your comment. I am sorry it took me so long to write this. Look me up on tumblr (haileygirlme) if you or her would like to get to know me (or potentially my wife, but she's a bit shy online). There are not very many Christian-identified transgender girls and spouses that I have met, but the few that have, have been so very good to know. You can message me through this blog, as well, if you like.
So to all who read this, thank you for walking with me through this. The love and support I've found in some of you ladies has been crucial during this period of my life. All my love and kindest regards!
- Hailey -
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Christmas Dreams
The following is a short excerpt from the book of Hebrews (in the Bible):
I watched Avatar again last night, for the first time in a long time. I'd forgotten just how much the story and imagery move me... and how much dysphoria is the inevitable result. How well I relate to living in a body not my own... of wanting my love to finally hold me in her arms and say, "I see you." Of wandering through the dream, yearning for the world as it should have been, yet is not.
The author of Hebrews probably didn't have much notion of aliens, and certainly would never have dreamed of such a thing as cinema, but the thought in the passage above is the same heart of both dreams. There has to be something better than this... We yearn for it... feel it... need it... some of us breath it... Our deepest dreams and longings are wrapped in cords of beauty, wonder, flight, and kinship. To be free of these fleshly bodies, our minds loosed to live the dreams we have always had, no longer bound by the flesh which so often is mistaken for our definition.
And yet... here I am... This is not my body, and this is not my home... I know that I am designed for something different, for something far more perfect. My humanity makes me want to order and construct.. to design and engineer, to break the world into pieces I can understand and control... but that is not who I really am. But even this creation, marred as it is by our ingenuity, need, and greed, is an amazing place... it just can't be all.
It is Christmas in a few days. For me, a Christian (one who takes it seriously), the season brings nearer a sense of wonder, fear, and immense hope which is present in Jesus' coming. I don't know how I could survive myself, in this half-truth of a body, without the hope Christ has brought to us. "Those who wander in darkness have seen a great light." God with us, dreaming with us, and drawing us on, through this dream (more often a nightmare for so many) to the day when we finally awake, in the country we WERE designed for... His country... floating mountains and beautiful creatures on whose backs we soar through the clouds will be forgotten in the far-surpassing wonder of that place... and I will be free. Free of this schism of my soul.. of the tears and aching.. of waiting, thirsting, and starving for real life, real water, and real kinship.
So this Christmas, awkwardly sitting amongst by beloved relations, still not talking about what they know about me, making merry for the superficial things, and some, for the real things Christmas is about, I will lift my eyes to something greater than my dark clouds of dysphoria, of the real pain caused by this lifelong inundation of testosterone, and dream of what may yet be... This Christmas I will remember that Christ, too, endured a body not His own, and was killed for telling the world who He truly was, and that He did that precisely because He means yet to free us, to free me, His sister, His daughter, from the nightmare. He entered our dream so that one day, we might finally awake, and hear, and say, "I see you."
13 All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. 14 People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. 15 If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. 16 Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one.Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.
I watched Avatar again last night, for the first time in a long time. I'd forgotten just how much the story and imagery move me... and how much dysphoria is the inevitable result. How well I relate to living in a body not my own... of wanting my love to finally hold me in her arms and say, "I see you." Of wandering through the dream, yearning for the world as it should have been, yet is not.
The author of Hebrews probably didn't have much notion of aliens, and certainly would never have dreamed of such a thing as cinema, but the thought in the passage above is the same heart of both dreams. There has to be something better than this... We yearn for it... feel it... need it... some of us breath it... Our deepest dreams and longings are wrapped in cords of beauty, wonder, flight, and kinship. To be free of these fleshly bodies, our minds loosed to live the dreams we have always had, no longer bound by the flesh which so often is mistaken for our definition.
And yet... here I am... This is not my body, and this is not my home... I know that I am designed for something different, for something far more perfect. My humanity makes me want to order and construct.. to design and engineer, to break the world into pieces I can understand and control... but that is not who I really am. But even this creation, marred as it is by our ingenuity, need, and greed, is an amazing place... it just can't be all.
It is Christmas in a few days. For me, a Christian (one who takes it seriously), the season brings nearer a sense of wonder, fear, and immense hope which is present in Jesus' coming. I don't know how I could survive myself, in this half-truth of a body, without the hope Christ has brought to us. "Those who wander in darkness have seen a great light." God with us, dreaming with us, and drawing us on, through this dream (more often a nightmare for so many) to the day when we finally awake, in the country we WERE designed for... His country... floating mountains and beautiful creatures on whose backs we soar through the clouds will be forgotten in the far-surpassing wonder of that place... and I will be free. Free of this schism of my soul.. of the tears and aching.. of waiting, thirsting, and starving for real life, real water, and real kinship.
So this Christmas, awkwardly sitting amongst by beloved relations, still not talking about what they know about me, making merry for the superficial things, and some, for the real things Christmas is about, I will lift my eyes to something greater than my dark clouds of dysphoria, of the real pain caused by this lifelong inundation of testosterone, and dream of what may yet be... This Christmas I will remember that Christ, too, endured a body not His own, and was killed for telling the world who He truly was, and that He did that precisely because He means yet to free us, to free me, His sister, His daughter, from the nightmare. He entered our dream so that one day, we might finally awake, and hear, and say, "I see you."
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Because sometimes... it just hurts too much...
Feeling pretty down today... thinking about the future and wondering, "will it always be this hard?" Probably it will.. or at least, maybe it will... I never wanted to be such a painful person for people to know. It's not my fault that they find me painful, and its not really their fault (at least very much) that they've been so trained and hard-wired to understand gender in binary. Even I am wired that way. I want to be cis- so much that it hurts... actually hurts... I've never been able to square the trans- part of me either, to just happily exist as female + male... so it's not hard to understand that the majority can't square it either... they've never even experienced it.
Still... it means that for the small number of people who know me (and aren't trans themselves...), I am at best, a conundrum to hopefully be glossed over, and at worse, an abominable warping of what could have been a healthy male. In all cases, their emotional lives are hurt by my existence.
If I were a more assertive girl, maybe I'd stick it to them and say, "the world is not how you want it to be, and that isn't my fault." What I really want is to ask, "won't you please love me?... no, not the boy..." Today I feel like I'm dying on the inside. I'm trying so hard to help my wife and kids, and after that, maybe family, by not overturning their world, intolerant though that world may be. That overturning has real consequences, even if the pillars that need to be thrown down are based on the gender-binary lie. I need my family... and they don't want me... I can insist on being me, and lose them, or I can keep them and continue in this half life... invisible and more alone than anyone can really understand.
Even my wife has a hard time seeing the turmoil. She complained, last night, at how good I am at bottling all the emotions... hiding them away so nobody but me can see the lightning flash, and the power of the waves... I break down sometimes, more now than ever before, but it always comes as a surprise. How many whips of hurtful words have cracked over my aching heart... stripes that I've silently borne, since my assailants can't understand the problem... How many time the duplicitous arguments of selfishness, vanity, and unlovingness have been applied to me, and I've not had the heart to show how equally those qualities apply to my accusers.
Shall I always just bear this? Maybe I should... my accounting is with God alone. I don't have to be lauded as selfless, I need only actually be selfless. I need not be lauded as loving, but only actually be loving.
So I'm a sap today, and I know that... just a girl trying to cry on her friends' shoulders. She doesn't know what's going to happen next, and is trying to wait on God, who has always heard her cries and sobs. I'm his handmaiden, even with these genetics... and one day, transition or no, I'll finally wake back up from this terrible dream...
Still... it means that for the small number of people who know me (and aren't trans themselves...), I am at best, a conundrum to hopefully be glossed over, and at worse, an abominable warping of what could have been a healthy male. In all cases, their emotional lives are hurt by my existence.
If I were a more assertive girl, maybe I'd stick it to them and say, "the world is not how you want it to be, and that isn't my fault." What I really want is to ask, "won't you please love me?... no, not the boy..." Today I feel like I'm dying on the inside. I'm trying so hard to help my wife and kids, and after that, maybe family, by not overturning their world, intolerant though that world may be. That overturning has real consequences, even if the pillars that need to be thrown down are based on the gender-binary lie. I need my family... and they don't want me... I can insist on being me, and lose them, or I can keep them and continue in this half life... invisible and more alone than anyone can really understand.
Even my wife has a hard time seeing the turmoil. She complained, last night, at how good I am at bottling all the emotions... hiding them away so nobody but me can see the lightning flash, and the power of the waves... I break down sometimes, more now than ever before, but it always comes as a surprise. How many whips of hurtful words have cracked over my aching heart... stripes that I've silently borne, since my assailants can't understand the problem... How many time the duplicitous arguments of selfishness, vanity, and unlovingness have been applied to me, and I've not had the heart to show how equally those qualities apply to my accusers.
Shall I always just bear this? Maybe I should... my accounting is with God alone. I don't have to be lauded as selfless, I need only actually be selfless. I need not be lauded as loving, but only actually be loving.
So I'm a sap today, and I know that... just a girl trying to cry on her friends' shoulders. She doesn't know what's going to happen next, and is trying to wait on God, who has always heard her cries and sobs. I'm his handmaiden, even with these genetics... and one day, transition or no, I'll finally wake back up from this terrible dream...
Sunday, December 2, 2012
New Difficulties of Being Non-op
Some of you may know that I'm avoiding an outward transition... Plainly, I'm trying my best to do what's best for the hearts and lives of my wife and children, even if that's hard on me.
Last week I came out to my parents (-in-law) and my wife's brother. Someone on tumblr compared the emotional side of coming-out to riding a roller-coaster during an earthquake. Yeah... something like that...
It's not been too bad, as I said in my last post... but a lot of that is due to my family's relief that I'm not rushing into some change that they're not ready for (or accepting of, as of yet). They're still very much in the beginning of the process. What is transgenderism? What does this mean? Is he crazy? Why does he think he's a girl? Maybe it was his parents' fault? We all know he had a rough childhood... Does this mean he's made a homosexual out of our daughter? Is their marriage valid in God's eyes?
You know, the works. They're at the beginning, and I have much faith that they will move past some of the sillier questions soon. They really are good people; honest, and serious about their faith, but loving more than most other things.
But there is an emerging problem that is worrying me. Having told them that I am, metaphorically, locked in a strange sort of tower, but for the world's sake, staying inside for the time being, they are more than willing to say, "no problem, we'll help you keep the door shut! Just tell us how we can help. We love you and will stand by you through this... just stay in there and hang in there!" It's more than a little invalidating, but also, by the nature of my choice, something like inevitable.
I'm worried that having suffered through life as an unknown girl, that now I may have to suffer as a known, but invisible girl. Its easy to ignore a unwanted person who is "happy" enough to stay invisible for you, after all. Furthermore, if I'm willing to repress myself for their sake, it will be much easier for them to view me as repressing an affliction of some kind, rather than what I'm actually doing: masquerading as the boy version they're all so comfortable with.
Difficulties...
So I'll give them time. I have hope that, at the very least, they'll start seeing me as an extremely feminine boy, even if my choices allow them to ignore the final bit.. (I'm not a boy...) That will be worth something. There will be a few of my more imaginative friends that might, someday, realize that we are all just souls, piloting these strange biomechs, and though many of us have appropriate markings on the exterior, such happy coincidental match-up isn't true for all of us.
We'll see where it goes. Time isn't my enemy, for the moment. The dysphoria is shockingly bad, sometimes, and I've cried a lot more than is probably healthy... just afraid that giving them room to breath will leave me with precious little.
Much Love,
-Hailey-
PS Anyone out there tonight? I'm feeling a touch lonely... love you all!
Last week I came out to my parents (-in-law) and my wife's brother. Someone on tumblr compared the emotional side of coming-out to riding a roller-coaster during an earthquake. Yeah... something like that...
It's not been too bad, as I said in my last post... but a lot of that is due to my family's relief that I'm not rushing into some change that they're not ready for (or accepting of, as of yet). They're still very much in the beginning of the process. What is transgenderism? What does this mean? Is he crazy? Why does he think he's a girl? Maybe it was his parents' fault? We all know he had a rough childhood... Does this mean he's made a homosexual out of our daughter? Is their marriage valid in God's eyes?
You know, the works. They're at the beginning, and I have much faith that they will move past some of the sillier questions soon. They really are good people; honest, and serious about their faith, but loving more than most other things.
But there is an emerging problem that is worrying me. Having told them that I am, metaphorically, locked in a strange sort of tower, but for the world's sake, staying inside for the time being, they are more than willing to say, "no problem, we'll help you keep the door shut! Just tell us how we can help. We love you and will stand by you through this... just stay in there and hang in there!" It's more than a little invalidating, but also, by the nature of my choice, something like inevitable.
I'm worried that having suffered through life as an unknown girl, that now I may have to suffer as a known, but invisible girl. Its easy to ignore a unwanted person who is "happy" enough to stay invisible for you, after all. Furthermore, if I'm willing to repress myself for their sake, it will be much easier for them to view me as repressing an affliction of some kind, rather than what I'm actually doing: masquerading as the boy version they're all so comfortable with.
Difficulties...
So I'll give them time. I have hope that, at the very least, they'll start seeing me as an extremely feminine boy, even if my choices allow them to ignore the final bit.. (I'm not a boy...) That will be worth something. There will be a few of my more imaginative friends that might, someday, realize that we are all just souls, piloting these strange biomechs, and though many of us have appropriate markings on the exterior, such happy coincidental match-up isn't true for all of us.
We'll see where it goes. Time isn't my enemy, for the moment. The dysphoria is shockingly bad, sometimes, and I've cried a lot more than is probably healthy... just afraid that giving them room to breath will leave me with precious little.
Much Love,
-Hailey-
PS Anyone out there tonight? I'm feeling a touch lonely... love you all!
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