I've thought for sometime now that Nate has an internal clock that tells him when his beloved Patty Lou is due to arrive home from work. Around 2pm he gets all antsy, goes and sits on the stool for awhile, runs to the door, then goes back to the stool to look out the window some more. Let her be late and this will last for hours. Patty Lou gets home about 2:10, (unless stops have to be made) and when he sees her pull into the driveway he goes running to the door in a fit of ecstatic ecstasy. (Her getting in the door is a trick in itself.) Today I caught on as to what triggers his alarm to ring telling him it's almost time for her arrival.
He was playing by himself, not a care in the world, when the introduction song for the afternoon soap opera General Hospital started playing. He looked at the TV, he looked at me, looked back at the TV, then at the window, then back at me, jumped up all excited and started bouncing around like he'd gotten a new lease on life. Seems the song is his alarm! This is one smart dog! Now all I have to do is get smart enough to train him to do something, .....other than eating snacks!
41yrs ago, (seems like yesterday sometimes) I thought I was the only boy in this world who felt like I should have been a girl. I was 14 and alone with my thoughts. Then I read about 2 men who had become women and I was three. There were at least three people in this world who had feelings like I did. You can just imagine my joy at knowing this, I wasn't alone anymore.Through my aging years, shall we say, I learned that there are many more who are like me, but not until the Internet did I realize that there are so many. (we could start our own country! Hmmm lol) With me living in a smaller town, that feeling of being alone still lingers. I've only met one other girl transitioning that lives here, and we are so opposite from one another that after 3 meetings we drifted apart. Two others that I've heard about don't what to be contacted, so I'm still alone, in a way. That's why YOU! ..get so much of me. ...Betcha wish I'd find someone else to bother sometimes! lol Ah, well your wishes may have come true! One of my bar friends, C. J. (he works at a convenience store), told me he had a girl come in the store the other day that was going through transition. Telling her about me, she seemed interested in contacting me, but had to get her phone turned on first. That's maybe an excuse, maybe not, there's lots of maybes involved. But just knowing there is someone else close by that I may have a connection with is somewhat satisfying in itself. Who knows, she may need me as much as I need her, so I've decided to make it as easy as I can for her to contact me. With all my info on a card, I'm giving it to C.J. today to pass along. I'm really not expecting to be contacted, I understand about being afraid to come out. Fear paralyzes us sometimes. Maybe she needs a girlfriend to sit with her, (and SCREAM!) on this roller coaster ride of transition. I know I sure do sometimes... Stephanie
We read all the time about how bathrooms can be a nightmare for trans girls. Employers don't what them in the ladies room, making them feel like second class women by demanding that they either use the men's room, a unisex bathroom, or a single stall one. Here's another bathroom story that happens to me at least twice a week. Since I have 7 multi stall ladies rooms to clean, it is inevitable that someone will come in to use it while I'm in there cleaning. It happened again tonight, only this time it caught me while I was having a happy moment about myself. Thursday, I'm almost always in a good mood since it's my last day of the work week. Tonight was no exception. I was listening to Cher singing ancient disco through my headphones, grinning at myself in the mirror, still amazed that I'm able to be myself and have a job. In walks a woman who I know, but we don't talk other than to say Hi. I take a little time to clean up the spray on the counter top, it being painfully obvious that she is going to stand there watching me, and certainly wasn't going to go into a stall while I was in there. I wanted to scream, 'I'm a girl, go ahead and pee!" But no, I hurried up and left, feeling the knife in my back penetrate my heart. Sometimes it doesn't matter that I have to leave like that, but tonight it caught me with my heart open. I went from a joyous beaming to misery in about 3 seconds. And the woman didn't even realize she'd done it to me. Yep, life in transition is a hormone induced, emotional roller coaster ride. You better buckle your seat belt, it's going to be a bumpy ride. Stephanie
My Florida daughter, Cindy, is coming for a visit. YIPPEE! She's bringing my granddaughter, Stormy, with, the son-in-law staying at home to work. He wouldn't have come even if he didn't have to work, but, so be it. They're coming on the 18th of June, (mine & Patty Lou's anniversary) and going to stay 3 days, staying here with us instead of renting a motel room. I imagine her sister, Shelly, will be trying to get her to stay in her big new house, but it's nearly an hour away in a very small town and Cindy can't understand why she's moving there. (I haven't figured out that one either.) Her mother told her that I wasn't going to change my look just to suit her and she said that was OK, she didn't have a problem with it. I guess it took a couple of years for her to realize that I was serious about this transition, that I wasn't going to live two lives anymore. I hope in the three days she's here, she sees how me and her mother are happier together. Patty Lou has that week off so they're planning places to go, things to do. I have two of those days off, so I'll be right there with them. Another YIPPEE! I know, it's nearly two months away, calm down, plans can change. But, ... yippee! Stephanie
I'm walking down this wide, wooden stairway, the sun beaming through a window over my left shoulder. It illuminates the landing where I stand, the rich wood tones from the stairway and the bright orange of the sun complimenting each other. I recognize this stairway, it is a mirror image of the one at my old grade school. Three landings, I'm on the second. I'm wearing a long summery flowered print skirt, a red blouse, and sandals, my hair a brown wig I owned back in the 80's. I'm in my early twenties, carrying school books in my right arm, children running everywhere. I'm smiling, descending the stairs, staring straight at me, but it isn't me, there is no substance to this watcher. Just a dark entity, being watched from behind. ......I wake-up.... Stephanie
Dear Reader, I have been cheated, but just important, or maybe more so, you have been cheated too. When I was born transgender, it set into motion a pattern of failure for me. It isn't that I'm not intelligent enough to have been a success, on the contrary, I let myself become engrossed with the constant thoughts of wanting to be female distract me from everything that would have helped me be a success. I never studied in school, and still was a 'B' student, but I quit before I graduated because I couldn't take anymore ridicule from my classmates. (In a crazed fit, I'd plucked my eyebrows into the thin lines you see today and wore a little make-up. Showing up at school was nearly the death of me.) I joined the Army with the intention of learning a trade and not being in the family business of masonry work, which I hated. I quit the Army before my 2yr enlistment was up, because, on a 30 day leave, I let my trans issues sneak into my life and I had to tell, (too much plucking again) and they were glad to see me go. My work history was sporadic, to say the least, again because of having to try and satisfy those trans issues. This is why at age 55, I don't have the resources to transition completely. My trans issues kept getting in the way. So why tell you this. In 1969 I was taken to see a psychiatrist. Granted, back then they didn't know much about transgender issues, but too, we were poor, and when they wanted more money than we could afford, I couldn't go anymore. (after the Dr. felt me up, I didn't want to go anyway.) This is 2009, they know a lot more about being trans than before, but still, if you are poor there are no resources for help. (our community counseling center charges $60 for 40mins.) I wonder how many grew up like me, and how many more will grow up like me, an intelligent individual that never reaches their full potential because, being poor, they can not get the help they need to control the gnawing in they're head telling them they are in the wrong body. Here in the USA, we need services provided by other governments that deal with this issue. Who knows what contribution a well adjusted, intelligent trans person could be making to the betterment of society today. Stephanie
"Ain't nothin' gonna breaka my stride. Nobody gonna slow me down. Oh no! I gotta keep on moving."
...All of that heavy gray fog of mine decided to lift today. The problems are still there, but they've been shuffled to a lesser priority. They'll be back on top when the fog rolls in, in about six weeks. Crazy life, huh? And I'm transgender TOO! ...sigh
Along with all of my frustration about being stuck in place with my transition, the age thing pushing those buttons, now I can add to it a totally pissed off anger brewing at my daughter. You may remember back in Dec after finding out that my big increase in pay was only going to be a dollar an hour more, I was pissed because I had been promised it would be more. That was all she and my a** hole son-in-law could afford was what I was told. Since then, money seems to be no problem for them, having bought all kinds of toys to play with, including a new car. Now I find out they're buying a house too, which means since my tiny raise, they have added payments to their monthly bills which total more than what I make in a month. I was told, Sunday she is going to ask me to do more at my job so she can be somewhere else working. This will be the second time I will have been given more responsibility and receiving the same amount of pay. If I can hold my tongue tomorrow, I will still have a job.
When I was 5,6,7,& 8yrs old, I shared a bed with my sister, her at one end, me at the other. When it was deemed that we were too old to be sleeping together, I got moved to the fold out couch. Being in the living room, I had no privacy, pulling the blanket over my head was the best I could do. I slept there until I was 11 when a house was built and we moved out of the small trailer we were living in. All of the house was complete except my bedroom, so I slept on the couch for about another 3yrs., head under the covers. (Seems me in my own room didn't have much priority.) ... Anyhow ............Even when I did get into my bedroom, there never was a door, so privacy was at a minimum unless I went under the covers. It was calm under there, no parents arguing , no sisters yelling, no TV blaring, just me............ .... and my sisters panties, and my mothers slips. .... There IS a calm under there.
I spent too much time this 3 day weekend doing nothing. It gave my mind time to wake-up those little talking voices in there, all of them babbling about transgender issues. Snickering, snide little creatures questioning about all of those what ifs and can or can't do's that I have no answer for. They're worried about timetables that were never set because I knew I couldn't follow them, screaming a deafening '55yrs old, better hurry' at me all the time. Admonishing me for being such a screw-up for so long and never planning ahead. Wondering why in hell am I doing this to me, even when I know why. Evil little beasts. ...I wish they'd shut-up. .....At times, it's almost as hard coping with this girl's life as it was with the boy's life. ........Almost Stephanie
While reading through every ones blogs, you girls who have had your SRS recently, having written about the months leading up to it, written about your recovery time, and then write about your life after, are hurting me. You do not mean to, it is not your fault. My inquisitive (nosey) nature is what causes my pain, reading on when I know that in doing so I will feel even more pain, the pain of longing to be whole and knowing that I will probably never reach that goal, that need. ... I long to be one of you girls, ... I wish, ... I pray. ... I read on, hurting myself. ........ Keep writing, I hope to join you.
Other than it being Thursday and my last night of work 'til Monday, I had an urgency to get home last night. I had heard the weather radios going off with warnings all evening. I had talked to Patty Lou twice getting updates as to how she was doing at home, she didn't sound worried so I wasn't panicking, yet. Done at 8:30, (it's usually around 10) I left for home. The radio was issuing still more weather warnings which were getting closer to home as the clock ticked on. About 10 miles from the house it started raining, no, RAINING! The wind was calm, but mixed with the rain was golf ball sized hail pounding on the car, me thinking the windshield was going to break any minute. I kept going though, I Had to get home. About two miles from home the warning came over the radio that a tornado had been sighted 5 miles west of the house. I pulled in the driveway, Patty Lou is standing under the carport smoking, it pouring down. I never even shut the engine off. I yelled at her to grab the dog and get in the car, NOW! A minute later we were racing away from the storm heading toward the creek where we could get under the bridge and out of the old house trailer we live in. It has been enclosed with a roof over and additions, but it's still no place to be in a tornado. We get under the bridge, sharing the safety with another couple, and listened to the radio tell us that another tornado had been spotted just north of the first one. The rain was still intense, but in 30 minutes it all came to a stop. Easing back home, we found everything intact with no damage. We turned on the TV and found that the first tornado went 5 miles south of us, and the second 5 miles north of us. Over the years of living here, it seems that's the norm for our area, or maybe the big book of fate still has something special that I have to be here for, I don't know. I found out this morning that there wasn't any damage anywhere near us, but the western part of the state was hit pretty hard. Now, the sun is shining, the air is crisp and clear, and everything is clean and beautiful. It's nice how Mother Nature does that for ya. She'll scare the P-water out of you and then tell you everything is just fine when the sun comes up. I'd like to have a little talk with her though. Her timing was just a bit early last night. I'd rather be home before she gets all worked up the next time!
Around this neck of the woods, someone transitioning learns early in their change of life that not all people will accept you, in fact, you come to expect it. Therefore, when someone does treat you with dignity and respect it tends to surprise you somewhat. Patty Lou and I had to go to the clinic yesterday to renew our files allowing for another year of basically free medical service. ($5 visits, $5 scripts,...) Me being completely ignorant of anything having to do with paperwork, with taxes, pay stubs, and forms in hand, we together, and obviously a couple, we went into the volunteers office to get our files updated. He was probably 10yrs older than me, and I found out through conversation that he was a native of this area, which usually means, look for the disrespect to begin. Quite the contrary though, he was very courteous, joking with us, got all the pronouns right,(YEAH!) took each of our pictures, and after complimenting me on making such a brave decision in transitioning, had us on our way in no time. He really did nothing special, nothing that shouldn't be done with anyone who may be a little different, but he made me feel good about myself when it could have been much different. Afterwards, Patty Lou and I went for a burger, and then I went to work with a smile on my face that lasted throughout the evening. R-E-S-P-E-C-T ...I know what it means to me. Stephanie
I'm no different than any other woman. (well, I am in some ways) We are bombarded with the advertising of every kind of product imaginable to make us believe that using said product will make us look just like the women pictured in the ad. Be it clothing, beauty products, even medications, we are told using these is all we need to turn us into perfect specimens of womanhood. Ya right. I'm not so gullible to believe this, but it affects me anyway. Perfection. I see it, I want it, I know I can't achieve it. I am built wrong. Broad shoulders, large hands, a gait that was brought about by the ravages of years living in that previous life left behind cannot be changed. Add to it a closet that when opened screams of a disco era long since passed, (including a small disco ball tucked in the corner!) and you have the recipe for a frustrated, perfectionist, woman longing to blend into a world that praises perfection in beauty to become depressed when trying to achieve this beauty. I must learn to live with my limitations whether I like it or not just as millions of other women do. Those women find clothes they are comfortable with when in a dressy mood, I will too. .....TA-DA, problem solved! ...sigh (besides, I've bitched enough!)
"There's a woman in me dying to get out." If your transgender, you've said that more than once, I'm sure. I have, over and over again, and thought it nearly every day of my life. And guess what? ...I still do. Yes I'm doing the hormones, living that 24/7 thing they call a 'Real Life Test'. (it's not much of a test if you ask me, too easy) ...Anywho...So you wonder why I would say there is still a woman in me wanting out. It's simple, if you knew her. She's nothing like who you've met and seen here. She's the kind of woman you see in advertising circulars. The one wearing a nice dress, coiffed hair, heels, walking through malls, confident in the way she looks. Oh, she can change into jeans and a tee, (what I wear) and go dancing at the club, but that's the difference between me and her. She can look good in both, where I am limited to just the dressed down version. Me in a dress brings that disturbing thought of "man in a dress" to mind. In the past, I've put all of the blame on my hair problems, but truth realized, if that was all it took a wig would solve my problem. It doesn't. Time and time again I put on a dress only to take it off before leaving the house, only to get depressed upon seeing the first woman, or even a pretty crossdresser, looking beautiful in her dress. I'm having a hard time accepting this, the woman in me wants out. In my old crossdressing years, it didn't matter as much, but then I never dressed the pretty woman style, opting for the pretty slut look. Plus, enough drugs and alcohol and your eyes see only what they want to see anyway. That's just one of the risks of sobering up. ...sigh I will either have to come to terms with knowing that that woman will never be able to come out, or I will have to find a way to bring her out and not care what others think. My options spelled out. Not much to choose from. Stephanie
Well, if I would have wanted some sympathy yesterday, all I would have had to have done would have been to take a pic and posted it. I looked like death warmed over. Friday I was feeling fine. Saturday I felt real tired and my nose was running. Sunday at work, I couldn't breath, my chest hurt, everywhere hurt, I thought I'd never get through the day. I went to the doctor Monday thinking it was just my allergies, which apparently he did too. He prescribed Flovent ($146!) and Singulair ($126!) and said I'd feel better soon. (How do people afford this stuff? Thankfully, I'm poor enough to go to the free clinic!) But I still had to go to work Monday night, so off I go, feeling terrible, looking worse, dragging every step of the 6hrs I was there. I made it home, read here for about 30min, and then slept for 10hrs. And sure enough, I felt a whole lot better today. Yeah! Now this blog isn't about getting any sympathy, it's to show you what 'full time' means. It would have been real easy to have kept the makeup off, no bra, earrings, painted nails, all of that, but that is what distinguishes me from being gendered male. I made a decision 2 1/2 years ago that I was going to present the female that I believe myself to be to the public to see, and come hell or high water that is going to be ALL the world sees. No going back, no here today gone tomorrow, not even for one day, full time means full time. It isn't easy at times, but as they say, nothing worthwhile is ever easy. So when you get ready to go full time remember this. There will be days when you don't feel your best, or look your best. Your going to want to say, "Not today, just for today." But you know what? I could have taken it all off, still felt bad and looked bad, and been gendered male. And that would have made me feel even worse. Stephanie