Brunch. Fear. Burnout. Dead Ends.

I’m not a cross dresser. My dysphoria has absolutely nothing to do with clothing. As proof, I’ll tell you that outside of the sports bra I now wear thanks to the gift the hormones have given me, the only female clothing I own is in storage. And it was given to me against my will by the girlfriend as part of the break up. I thought about tossing (pun?) all of it. But, I guess a part of me realized I would eventually need it. Better to have something than spend money. When it comes to my daily life, I’m pretty much a beach bum. I’m not a slob. And I shower daily. But, I’d rather wear a t-shirt, shorts and sandals (yes, even in the winter) than a suit.

Whether I like it or not, clothing differs by gender. I’ll still be able to wear a t-shirt and shorts. But, I’ll have to buy from a different section. So, when it comes time to transition, I will need to go shopping. I recently had a conversation with a transwoman friend who volunteered to go shopping with me. When she said this, my anxiety immediately kicked in.

I can’t imagine people knowing this secret. I fear death. Sure, you can say I’m being unreasonable. But, I don’t come from a background of acceptance. While I’m grateful for the response I’ve gotten so far, I still fear attacks by strangers. Is it a rational thought? Probably not. Friends assure me I don’t have to fear someone walking up to me with a gun or knife. But, I would rather be safe than sorry. But, that means no movement at all. So, I keep pushing up against my own fears. I’ve come a long way. It took me months (really years of attempts) to feel safe enough to walk into the GLBT Center. I’m no longer afraid to be seen in public with trans friends. And I keep writing in this blog. I’m feeling suicidal while writing this. Every time I stop typing, I get this vision in my mind of putting a gun in my mouth.

This might be rambling, but at least my fingers keep hitting the keys.

What really made me upset was something I haven’t mentioned yet. Back before I sent out the coming out emails, I expressed interest in a sunday brunch group a friend organizes. I haven’t been yet. But, I saw it as a way to break out from my shell. To meet new people.

My left hand won’t stop shaking.

After I came out to some people, the email this friend sends out to the brunch group to see who wants to attend the brunch and when/where it will be, started including my name as Rebecca. I realize this is my friends way of being supportive. But, as I think I’ve made clear above, I don’t live my life in the female role yet. Not even close. Last night, I imagined how this would play out if I go to the brunch tomorrow. Someone I don’t know will say something like “Where is Rebecca?” and everyone in the know will sit silently waiting for me to say something. Only, I won’t be able to.

So, better to just skip out. Walk away.

I don’t want to. I want to keep pushing myself. But, I’ve been pushing pretty hard lately. Life has been moving pretty fast. Maybe a little too fast. I need to take a little bit of a break.

Last week, I had three trans women sit around me trying to convince me that I can pass. And that I have better genetics than what they started with. That may be. I don’t know. I don’t believe it. And honestly, I don’t know where to go from here. I’m on hormones. I continue working on facial hair removal. But, I don’t know how else to push myself.

So for the time being, transition will have to be relegated to staying on hormones and continued weight loss. As you’ve probably noticed, I made a video recently. That’s all part of my “trying new things project”. I’m starting with eating new foods. That’s because it’s easy. And there are so many new foods I want to try. But, I’m not going to confine it to food. There are plenty of other things I want to try. So, I’ll be working on that for awhile. If transition related topics come to mind, I’ll still write about them. But, I realize that there are few places I can go with it right now.

 

 

 

 

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About Frogtosser

A former sailor and pizza maker who is done hiding from the world and is now living life to it's fullest extent. I'm a single speed bicycle commuter who enjoys writing and photography. I'm a voracious reader. And a huge geek!
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One Response to Brunch. Fear. Burnout. Dead Ends.

  1. Alma says:

    I don’t think you’re being unreasonable. You are right to fear death. There are lots of close-minded people in this world, and–like it or not–on some level–transitioning into a new identity means the death of your old identity. That’s scary and heartbreaking…and exciting, too, I bet. But I think it’s really normal to have mixed emotions about all of it.

    I’ve had a very different journey. Not based on my gender, but based on growing up–on being the person I needed to be. A part of me will always mourn the girl my Mama knew. For the longest time, I was afraid of changing because I expected her to somehow return–and I worried she would no longer know me–wouldn’t be able to identify me. But the pain of staying the same–of being a lesser me–a me that needed to be someone else–was too much. It overwhelmed that fear I had. And, eventually, I accepted that…despite my desperate attempts to be recognizable to my dead Mama…I was not the girl she knew. And I could never ever be that girl again. Sometimes, that feels like betrayal. But most days, all I have is gratitude.

    I used to think that I had to constantly be brave–that the strong label everyone put on my forehead had to be my calling card. I used to think that, if I didn’t push myself, I wasn’t honoring my Mama. But she taught me the greatest lesson ever about strength–both in her life and death. She was the strongest woman I ever knew. And in her death, she became someone who couldn’t do anything for herself. And I learned about the grace of leaning. It’s okay to not know how to be “brave.” It’s okay to be desperately afraid. It’s okay to pause to catch your breath and not be ready.

    Sometimes, you need it. Sometimes, that gives you the strength to really be strong. But strength comes from admitting you are really afraid–from saying it out loud–and from letting it be. You will get where you need to be when you need to be–no matter what you do. You may not understand it. You may not be ready for it. You may not know how to deal with it. The only thing you can do is make the choice to stay and get back up every time you’re not sure you can. And when you’re certain you can’t, hold out your hand. Someone will grab it. You aren’t alone.

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