Roles
It doesn't seem to matter how long you've been away, does it? If you were the funny one all those years ago, you're going to fall right back into that role, even if you haven't told a joke in years. In family settings this happens all the time. My father, the youngest of four brothers was the "Goddamn Baby Brother" for years, which irked him, until that 'honorific' was retired on his 50th birthday. In high school were you a jock? A stoner? An arts geek? In part, these roles reflect our individual personalities, so it's understandable, I guess, that it's hard to move past them as we get older.
In college there were nine of us who rented a house together. Most of us had already known each other for a couple of years, and, sure enough, we had our roles. There were a couple of rapid fire quipsters who were much quicker and wittier than me. I tended to specialise in esoteric references, word play, and the more bizarre attempts at humor. I'd receive a perplexed look as often as a laugh. I had heart and soul, but not to the degree as a few others, so I didn't fit that role. I was reasonably smart, but a few others were brilliant. I was only an ok student among a group of hard core grinders. In truth, even though I was the oldest in the group (by one whole day), I often felt like the kid brother.
In any event, we're all getting together this weekend for the first time in 17 years. I'm very excited. But I'm also a little bit afraid. For you see, these wonderful people only know me as a cis-gender male. I played this role so well, I fooled even myself for close to 50 years. They haven't met the real me - a trans woman named Nora, and I'm afraid they won't get the chance, because we'll all fall back into the roles the nine of us have played all those years ago.
Perhaps I'm just being silly. After all, when I came out to this group one year ago, they all embraced the 'new' me with the same love and compassion that they have always shown. But we can fall back into our old roles so seamlessly, it's not until afterward that you realise it happened. I think that ultimately, what this is about, is wanting their validation for my new life, and that if I act like my old self that won't happen. Which is, in fact, silly. Human, but silly.
What the hell, break out the Uno cards and wine coolers. The 181 gang rides again!
Thursday, May 23, 2019
Tuesday, May 21, 2019
Number 50
A Trip To The Woodshed
According to a 19 year old genius that is a part of my daughter's friend group at college, gender dysphoria is a mental illness. Ergo, he thinks I'm nuts. I became aware of this, when my daughter (bless her heart for not keeping me secret), told her friends about me and my transition. Thankfully, he didn't respond, "Eww, Yuck!" But he did indicate that he thought that pursuing various gender confirmation surgeries and procedures was inappropriate. Apparently this Socrates in sneakers thinks the correct treatment is a therapeutic one that will help me realize that my gender dysphoria is not a real thing.
Now, I may very well be mentally ill. [Insert your own smart-ass comment here] My choo-choo may have already left the station or I might be a few bricks short of a load. But I don't think so. In fact I feel the exact opposite. I feel as mentally healthy as I've ever felt in my live. Coming to terms with my dysphoria and moving forward with transition fills me with and inner calm and peace of mind that I've never felt before.
Which is why I'm so annoyed by the opinion of this pint-sized Plato. Of course he's not alone in his thinking, and at least he's sympathetic towards me, and not abusive. But this is where the little twerp allows his uneducated, prejudicial opinion get the better of him. He forgets that I'm already pursuing therapeutic and medical treatment. And these alleged "experts" (otherwise known as almost the entirety of both medical and mental health practitioners), think gender dysphoria is a real thing, and that gender confirmation procedures are an appropriate course of action. In my mind, I can (hopefully) hear this generation's answer to Aristotle saying, "Oh, I didn't think about that."
Of course gender dysphoria can cause mental anguish. If a person has been brought up to believe that trans folks are a few slices of bread short of a loaf, it makes sense that this person would be disturbed by their own thoughts of gender incongruency. I'm not one of those people, though. As I stated above, acknowledgement of my dysphoria resulted in a feeling of contentment and calm.
Look. I know I've been a little harsh with a young man I've never met. But it gets weary after awhile facing the same old misconceptions and prejudices masquerading as informed fact, and sometimes you just need to take someone out to the woodshed for a little paddlin'. Consider it done.
According to a 19 year old genius that is a part of my daughter's friend group at college, gender dysphoria is a mental illness. Ergo, he thinks I'm nuts. I became aware of this, when my daughter (bless her heart for not keeping me secret), told her friends about me and my transition. Thankfully, he didn't respond, "Eww, Yuck!" But he did indicate that he thought that pursuing various gender confirmation surgeries and procedures was inappropriate. Apparently this Socrates in sneakers thinks the correct treatment is a therapeutic one that will help me realize that my gender dysphoria is not a real thing.
Now, I may very well be mentally ill. [Insert your own smart-ass comment here] My choo-choo may have already left the station or I might be a few bricks short of a load. But I don't think so. In fact I feel the exact opposite. I feel as mentally healthy as I've ever felt in my live. Coming to terms with my dysphoria and moving forward with transition fills me with and inner calm and peace of mind that I've never felt before.
Which is why I'm so annoyed by the opinion of this pint-sized Plato. Of course he's not alone in his thinking, and at least he's sympathetic towards me, and not abusive. But this is where the little twerp allows his uneducated, prejudicial opinion get the better of him. He forgets that I'm already pursuing therapeutic and medical treatment. And these alleged "experts" (otherwise known as almost the entirety of both medical and mental health practitioners), think gender dysphoria is a real thing, and that gender confirmation procedures are an appropriate course of action. In my mind, I can (hopefully) hear this generation's answer to Aristotle saying, "Oh, I didn't think about that."
Of course gender dysphoria can cause mental anguish. If a person has been brought up to believe that trans folks are a few slices of bread short of a loaf, it makes sense that this person would be disturbed by their own thoughts of gender incongruency. I'm not one of those people, though. As I stated above, acknowledgement of my dysphoria resulted in a feeling of contentment and calm.
Look. I know I've been a little harsh with a young man I've never met. But it gets weary after awhile facing the same old misconceptions and prejudices masquerading as informed fact, and sometimes you just need to take someone out to the woodshed for a little paddlin'. Consider it done.
Sunday, May 19, 2019
Number 49
Anti-Abortion / Pro-Choice
In a search for common ground where an intelligent conversation about abortion might occur, I offer the following thought: Nobody likes abortion. I doubt strongly that any woman who has ever found herself unexpectedly pregnant has thought, "Hurray, I'm so excited. Now I can have an abortion." And, once we all agree that nobody likes abortions, maybe we can all work together to have as few of them as possible. Fewer abortions is a good thing, right?
Now I am fully aware that all those right-wing politicians currently straining their shoulders while they pat themselves on their backs will exclaim, "NO, nothing less than a total ban on all abortions is acceptable!!" But they are mistaken if they believe their actions will accomplish their stated goals. As long as there is fucking, there will be unplanned pregnancies. They'll just drive abortion procedures underground, where it is inherently less safe for everyone involved. I suppose when a few women die because of this, they'll exclaim that the sluts got what they deserved.
In the land where rational people dwell, however, we can all agree that fewer abortions is a good thing.
Personally, I'm against abortion. If either of my daughters came to me with news of an unplanned pregnancy and they wanted my counsel, I would encourage them to see the pregnancy through. As a parent myself, I'm fully aware of how such a course of action would change their lives, but that is the way I feel. However, I would support my child and her baby to the best of my ability fully accepting that my life would change a great deal, too.
But, on the other hand, if my child still felt that the best option was to end the pregnancy, I would continue to support her. If it came to it, I'd go along with her. Because here's the thing. My daughters were raised to think of intercourse as more than a recreational activity without consequence. Their mother and I had those uncomfortable discussions with them. While we encouraged them away from engaging in sexual activities during their teen years, we also made sure that they had real facts about sex, and knew how to protect themselves if that was the choice they made. And that is the key. Documented studies demonstrate over and over that realistic sex education reduces unplanned pregnancies.
Abortion has always seemed to me to be the ultimate 'close the barn door after the horses have left' issue. If you want there to be less abortions, wouldn't it be smart to keep the unplanned pregnancies from happening in the first place? And the best way for that to happen is to ensure that young people (males, too, please) know the real facts. It might also be smart if our culture stops treating intercourse as casually as it does.
We all want less abortions. And there is a small part of me that appreciates the fervor of the people who protest against abortion rights (in legal ways). But when the social conservatives also try to police sex education by championing 'abstinence only' sex education programs, (a contradiction in terms, if I've ever heard one), a couple of things become abundantly clear. (1) They're delusional, and (2) They're more interested in controlling the behavior of others than the sanctity of life. If that wasn't the fact, all these bills would be full of language on how mother and child would be supported by the state after the birth takes place.
One final thought. I've been responsible for three pregnancies in my lifetime (Rebecca had a miscarriage, at one point). I observed what a mother's body goes through during that time. It is extraordinary. I was right there the whole way, and I still don't know what it feels like to have morning sickness, feel the baby kick, etc., etc., etc. It's all intensely personal and a blanket prohibition against abortion makes me nervous. No one is omnipotent enough to render judgement on every unplanned pregnancy. As much as our country claims to venerate individual freedoms it seems that deciding on something as personal as an abortion needs to be left to the person who is pregnant. If you don't like abortion, don't get one.
In a search for common ground where an intelligent conversation about abortion might occur, I offer the following thought: Nobody likes abortion. I doubt strongly that any woman who has ever found herself unexpectedly pregnant has thought, "Hurray, I'm so excited. Now I can have an abortion." And, once we all agree that nobody likes abortions, maybe we can all work together to have as few of them as possible. Fewer abortions is a good thing, right?
Now I am fully aware that all those right-wing politicians currently straining their shoulders while they pat themselves on their backs will exclaim, "NO, nothing less than a total ban on all abortions is acceptable!!" But they are mistaken if they believe their actions will accomplish their stated goals. As long as there is fucking, there will be unplanned pregnancies. They'll just drive abortion procedures underground, where it is inherently less safe for everyone involved. I suppose when a few women die because of this, they'll exclaim that the sluts got what they deserved.
In the land where rational people dwell, however, we can all agree that fewer abortions is a good thing.
Personally, I'm against abortion. If either of my daughters came to me with news of an unplanned pregnancy and they wanted my counsel, I would encourage them to see the pregnancy through. As a parent myself, I'm fully aware of how such a course of action would change their lives, but that is the way I feel. However, I would support my child and her baby to the best of my ability fully accepting that my life would change a great deal, too.
But, on the other hand, if my child still felt that the best option was to end the pregnancy, I would continue to support her. If it came to it, I'd go along with her. Because here's the thing. My daughters were raised to think of intercourse as more than a recreational activity without consequence. Their mother and I had those uncomfortable discussions with them. While we encouraged them away from engaging in sexual activities during their teen years, we also made sure that they had real facts about sex, and knew how to protect themselves if that was the choice they made. And that is the key. Documented studies demonstrate over and over that realistic sex education reduces unplanned pregnancies.
Abortion has always seemed to me to be the ultimate 'close the barn door after the horses have left' issue. If you want there to be less abortions, wouldn't it be smart to keep the unplanned pregnancies from happening in the first place? And the best way for that to happen is to ensure that young people (males, too, please) know the real facts. It might also be smart if our culture stops treating intercourse as casually as it does.
We all want less abortions. And there is a small part of me that appreciates the fervor of the people who protest against abortion rights (in legal ways). But when the social conservatives also try to police sex education by championing 'abstinence only' sex education programs, (a contradiction in terms, if I've ever heard one), a couple of things become abundantly clear. (1) They're delusional, and (2) They're more interested in controlling the behavior of others than the sanctity of life. If that wasn't the fact, all these bills would be full of language on how mother and child would be supported by the state after the birth takes place.
One final thought. I've been responsible for three pregnancies in my lifetime (Rebecca had a miscarriage, at one point). I observed what a mother's body goes through during that time. It is extraordinary. I was right there the whole way, and I still don't know what it feels like to have morning sickness, feel the baby kick, etc., etc., etc. It's all intensely personal and a blanket prohibition against abortion makes me nervous. No one is omnipotent enough to render judgement on every unplanned pregnancy. As much as our country claims to venerate individual freedoms it seems that deciding on something as personal as an abortion needs to be left to the person who is pregnant. If you don't like abortion, don't get one.
Monday, May 13, 2019
Number 48
By The Way, "A" Does Not Equal "B"
An annoying thought has been rattling around my brain for awhile. I try to ignore it, because I know it's not true, and to acknowledge it implies that I care, or could be hurt by the thoughts and feelings of others. It should be enough that I know the truth, and to heck with what other people believe, right? I mean, I hate when celebrities are asked questions about their sexuality. Whatever the truth may be is a private matter; and such questions always have a whiff of judgment about them.
But the thought persists, so I'm choosing to address it here. I'm not really sure why. I suppose it has something to do with the notion of not wanting to be misunderstood. Whatever.
No. Rebecca's death did not lead to my transition. Identifying as a trans woman has nothing whatsoever to my wife's passing. I did not "lose it", or "go off the deep end". What I now understand as gender dysphoria has been with me all my life. What is true is the fact that I worked very hard, both consciously and subconsciously, to suppress any dysphoric thoughts for most of my life. Trust me, I did that really well.
In any event, it's actually a coincidence that my "coming out" occurred near the time of Rebecca's death. In previous posts, I have wondered whether or not I would be transitioning if she were still alive. I stand by what I said then: "Who the f*ck knows?" That's not the life I'm living, so dwelling on that thought is a useless exercise. All I can tell you is that I had already begun to peel back the layers of my self-identity prior to February 14, 2016. And that's the truth.
An annoying thought has been rattling around my brain for awhile. I try to ignore it, because I know it's not true, and to acknowledge it implies that I care, or could be hurt by the thoughts and feelings of others. It should be enough that I know the truth, and to heck with what other people believe, right? I mean, I hate when celebrities are asked questions about their sexuality. Whatever the truth may be is a private matter; and such questions always have a whiff of judgment about them.
But the thought persists, so I'm choosing to address it here. I'm not really sure why. I suppose it has something to do with the notion of not wanting to be misunderstood. Whatever.
No. Rebecca's death did not lead to my transition. Identifying as a trans woman has nothing whatsoever to my wife's passing. I did not "lose it", or "go off the deep end". What I now understand as gender dysphoria has been with me all my life. What is true is the fact that I worked very hard, both consciously and subconsciously, to suppress any dysphoric thoughts for most of my life. Trust me, I did that really well.
In any event, it's actually a coincidence that my "coming out" occurred near the time of Rebecca's death. In previous posts, I have wondered whether or not I would be transitioning if she were still alive. I stand by what I said then: "Who the f*ck knows?" That's not the life I'm living, so dwelling on that thought is a useless exercise. All I can tell you is that I had already begun to peel back the layers of my self-identity prior to February 14, 2016. And that's the truth.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)