Number 45

Potpourri

I’ve had a lot of little ideas running around my head. Here they are.

surreality

For most of my life things have been about other people. I’ve had no major illness’s or surgeries, but my sister had major surgery for scoliosis. My brother’s the one that learned to fly a helicopter, not me. My friends in high school went to Yale, Harvard, and the Naval Academy. My friends from college became professional musicians, lawyers, and professors. I watched Rebecca be pregnant twice, and I got to watch her die once. In other words, big important things happened to other people , not me. Now, however, I am the one undergoing a significant life change, and it’s a little weird. A person new to celebrity often comments about how strange it is when they first begin to get noticed in public. I’m not a celebrity, but there are many new experiences a person has while transitioning, and I find myself oftentimes thinking, “wow. this is all happening to me” (and not someone else). Getting used to that is a bit unsettling.

bras 

Back in the day, when all I thought I was just a wannabe, secret crossdresser. I would very occasionally underdress. That is when a trans person will wear the undergarments of the other sex. It felt so sneaky wearing a bra that no one else knew about. (Under a t-shirt, regular shirt, thick sweater and a coat, how could they?) Of course the feeling of wearing it felt so particular, I found myself wondering if women ever got so used to wearing bras that they kind of forgot about having them on. I now know that the answer is “yes”. I’ve also learned that an ill-fighting or uncomfortable bra sucks, and that being able to take it off at the end of the day is a wonderful feeling. But, yes, I do forget about it; and the thrilling wish I used to have about being able to wear one all the time has become a somewhat hum-drum reality.

Imposter syndrome (I.S.)

I.S. is a feeling trans people often have where they feel like they’re only pretending to be a different gender, as opposed to feeling legitimate. This entry is a bit of a fake, because it’s not just something for me to explain away in a single paragraph. It’s a more or less constant thought/worry. But I found myself thinking the other day that I feel much more authentic than I did two months, six months, a year ago, etc. I’ve got a long journey yet, but I’m no longer just starting out, and that feels good.

Donald Trump cheats at golf

I suppose it will shock at least 0 people to learn that I loathe our current president with a deep and abiding passion. Rick Reilly has written a new book, The Commander in Cheat, which lays bare in horrific (and jaw dropping) detail every way that golf is a microcosm of his overall awfulness. The shameless lying, self-aggrandizing behavior, cheating, bullying, sexism, racism, and all around, unrepentant, boorishness of this man defies explanation. That he is president of our country is a national travesty.