Our community blogs
Reflecting back on the year 2016 I've very pleased with the decisions I've made and new friendships made. Now it's time to see what happens as hormones progress changes to my physical and mental attributes as most know as years go by hormones tend to incrementally change one's behaviorism and I have noticed in the past several months a noticeable change not per-say in moods but how I react to things and events that several years ago I would had reacted totally different than today.
Thinking about assimilation into a female role where many leave the trans world behind at my point in my journey I'm still going to mentor and assist those less unfortunate then me in regards to being able to transition with virtually no issues while the majority are on the opposite end of the spectrum. When not with transgender people I never bring up the topic unless someone else starts a conversation e.g. "I've noticed a surge with transgender people..." and is not directed at me but with a group of people.
Had a conversation with a cross dresser recently who heads up a cross dresser group indicated 99 percent of those who transition in her group leave the group and want nothing to do with them anymore. I said, can you blame them? Personally I rather see them do that but hopefully some will mentor others who's goal is to transition and need someone to assist them.
That brings up an interesting thing, while out with a cross dresser group last weekend one of the girls said her future son-in-law was coming and that he is also a cross dresser and his future wife knows about this, wow, times are changing. I'm learning that many couples are accepting of their cross dressing partners but a few I talked to said if they even consider transitioning they were done with them, in short they married a male and need a male yet accepting of their partner showing their female side.
It's a brave new world emerging.
It's been an extremely long time...but yeah, I'm still here. Nothing much has changed and I lost the ambition to blog because it was an endless parade of the same thing every day. It felt like a waste of time to keep repeating myself. Not sure why I'm here again, but I think maybe on the rare chance that anyone was wondering where I went or, by chance, was worried; I wanted to let everyone know that I'm alright.
Whats New: Just over a year at my job in Security, and nothing has changed too drastically. We had a conflict during my shift between a civilian and a staff member and I clicked back into my pre-training when I wanted to be a State Trooper and handled the situation the only way I knew how. I got in the middle of it. I was able to defuse the situation safely and separate the two individuals, writing a detailed report on time, location, involved parties and descriptions of the would-be assailant. I didnt think anything of it. It's my job, it's what I do.
Well, apparently the higher-ups of the company I work for didnt think it was just "what you do". They called a meeting, held a conference, and low and behold...I was upgraded. I'm now full-time, with benefits (soon, not yet. Paperwork is awaiting) and I was given huge praise from both the Town Police Officers and the Academy I work for. Not only that, but the situation forced them to realize that we, as Security, are vastly ill-equipped for our jobs and finally have decided to listen to our needs and provide us with new supplies. A newer, larger vehicle that we can safely transport clients and students in (we are using a little P.O.S. hand-me-down Ford Ranger right now which is horribly cramped all the time and I hate driving it.). I'm still in work-mode so my typing is kinda professional still Anyway, we're each getting water-proof, theft-proof, USB charging Dock equipped backpacks that will have flashlights, mace, first aid, notebook&pen, a security monitoring computer and etc. We're also all getting new uniforms and much-needed spotlights and gear that we SHOULD have had months ago. It took my situation with an aggressive individual for them to realize "hey, these guys COULD get hurt while protecting these kids...we should gear them up." FINALLY.
So that's work.
(Plus I was at the Post office today ((with my security jacket on....because it's basically the only winter coat I own.)) and one of the postal workers stopped me and said his son goes to our Academy and asked about a drug raid he'd heard about. I explained that one particular student who will remain nameless had supposedly had prescription painkillers in his possession that were not his, and we confiscated them. I assured him that we do frequent and random sweeps of dorm rooms and dorm buildings for anything they should not have, and he seemed happy with that. The last part that got me was just before he walked away, he said "Thank you for protecting our kids. You guys do a great job." Finally....recognition.)
YOUTUBE: Yes, I am still recording YouTube videos! I am HORRIBLY behind on posting them, unfortunately, but life's been a bit hectic atm.
FACEBOOK: I now have TWO pages up on facebook for my Youtube channel so you can stay up to date. One page is specifically for my channel videos, while the other is dedicated to my craft hobby (which just started so its very very slow) where I am selling crafts that 100% go towards my top surgery.
(Facebook.com/dubstepheartbeatYoutube & Facebook.com/dubstepheartbeatCreations)
Oi vey....where to start....So I still havent had my surgery, obviously since I have my creations page to pay for said surgery....I have been fighting continuously with Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield on getting them to pay for my surgery, even if just a portion. They refuse. The reason is this: My LEGAL gender is MALE. My Birth certificate says FEMALE. I cannot change that without GRS which I will not do. Anyway...My ID says Male on it. So when they filed for my surgery, they initially filed it under FEMALE BREAST REDUCTION. Well, since my ID says Male on it, they cannot do that. Because I am legally male. So it would go under Gynocomastia, which I do not have. Which..frankly doesnt matter because they dont cover it anyway.
I've spent a minimum of 4 hours on the phone every time I call, explaining over and over and OVER again that I am Transgender, I am legally male but physically female, and that this is a breast reduction not because I'm transgender but because of spinal damage, pain, interferance with work, and a damaged trapezius muscle. All of which has been noted by my doctor FOUR TIMES, including all the necessary paperwork (and more...) sent to them REPEATEDLY. They either claim that A: they never got the paperwork, B:It lacked a piece of info they wanted, C: They have it and are reviewing it OR......D: They cant find my account at all. I spent TWO HOURS on hold just for them to tell me that the line I HAD BEEN TRANSFERRED TO...doesnt handle what I'm looking for so they transferred me BACK to the people I ORIGINALLY WERE TALKING TO. Absolute, complete, utter flipping NIGHTMARE!!!
With my anxiety & Depression issues, it came to the point where I would completely avoid calling them because it would completely destroy me for days afterwards. I've had people offer to help with with the call or figure things out, but either they offered once and never followed through or they simply werent understanding that everything they wanted to try...I've already done it. No one....GOT what I was trying to say. It started to feel like no one cared anymore either.
I called GLADD FIVE TIMES. I only ever got ONE response, which was "we'll call you as soon as we have more info for you.". That was months ago....nothing.
I called the State of New Hampshire's Offices for Insurance to figure out what to do. "We'll call you back." They never did. Not only did they not return my calls, but every time I called them back and demanded to talk to someone, they'd just keep saying "Ma'am, someone will call you." Misgendered AND ignored. Thanks for that.
I called SIX...ADVOCATES...FOR TRANSGENDER PEOPLE IN MY STATE. Again, either they didnt know how to help, didnt call me back, or simply said "keep trying". For someone with severe Anxiety, the phrase "just keep trying" is like saying "Haha, well that sucks."
I cant keep trying. It causes me such dysphoria, severe depression, anxiety and physical illness that I have to call out of work, take days to recooperate and fight of the HORRIBLE sensation of the NEEEEEEEEEED to self harm. I'd been able to stay sober of it thus far, except for one episode involving a fight with my homophobic, trump loving, transphobic, Democratic-hating sister&mother-in-laws...(Long story short, I had just worked 14 hours, was tired and exhausted; and was accused of abusing her animals. Not by the mother, but by the sister-in-law. Who is basically the princess of the castle. I lost it.) So the insurance company locked me out of my online account conveniently a week before my due date to switch insurances, so I couldnt even access my account to change insurance companies before the due date ran out and....low and behold...I was renewed with Anthem BCBS for another year. I dont have enough swear words and foul language names to throw at them to express how I feel...
I also, by the way, emailed Anthem personally either through Twitter's Anthem Help page or their main help page, which ran in circles up to the point of them calling and leaving a message ON THE ONE PHONE I SPECIFICALLY ASKED THEM NOT TO CALL BECAUSE I WONT GET THE DAMN MESSAGE, then when I called them back, I got nothing. Just an answering machine. FOR THREE WEEKS.
When I mentioned this to them, they shrugged it off. Yeah.....F You too.
(BEFORE YOU OFFER TO HELP ME WITH THE INSURANCE THING:::::::No, I do not need the help right now. Thank you for thinking of me anyway. But with my job title changing, I'm getting new insurance and there is absolutely no reason I can think of to try and pursue Anthem BCBS's jerkoffs when I'm leaving them really soon. Thanks anyway.)
So, anyway....thats life right now. As you can see, not much has changed. New promotion and same insurance b.s.
Oh, and apparently I have dissociation with my chest. Which doesnt surprise me. I found out because I was in the shower, washing like I usually do with my eyes squeezed shut and my heart breaking at the sensation of having to wash those stupid boulders on my REAL chest underneath, and....what's this? I look down and I apparently had a pimple or something that had developed on the underside of my left breast, but had gone unattended to for god-knows-how-long, so it festered and became raw and infected. Did I notice? No....I didnt even feel it. I've always had next to no feeling or sensation in my chest since I was cursed with them, but I didnt think much of it. This made me really realize...I have no feeling in them whatsoever. So I experimented. I ran my hands along the sides, fronts, top and bottom....but nothing. If it werent for feeling it through my fingertips, I wouldnt feel it at all. Absolutely nothing. It's like...I feel the pressure of my hands but that's it. Not a tickle or a whisp of sensation. I have completely, entirely, absolutely dissociated with my chest so much that I no longer feel it. It's no longer 'mine'. Its just...there. That's what kills me even more.
Theyre there, theyre attached to me...but if I dont even have feeling in them, they feel even more alien to me. I'm not supposed to even have them and this just proves it even more. It didnt hit me as hard as it did at the doctors when I casually mentioned it and she was confused. Apparently ciswomen are SUPPOSED to have feeling in them. Like...everywhere.
It's weird. It's like a feeling of abandonment. That I've hated them so much and for so long that theyve finally given up and just died, but I still gotta carry the corpses around. Now, more than ever, I just want them gone...It's almost too much to stomach. I choke up thinking about it. I feel like a part of me has just died, staring me in the face and flipping me the bird before being just completely gone. But instead of leaving, it lingers in the doorway and stares me down, laughing at me and mocking me because they wont go away.
It sound stupid but I feel like theyre taunting me. Like "We know you dont want us, so we're gonna take away any sensation of being here, except you'll still have to carry our dead weight. You cant get rid of us, you will still have a huge lump in your shirt and we will NEVER allow you to touch your real chest underneath. You hate us, and we hate you. So live with it."
I even opted out of my nipple grafts so that the surgery would be cheaper. Not just for a cheaper price, but because I've always had issues with those parts anyway so there's no point in hoping they'll heal and stay where they put them when a huge part of me knows they wont. They dont heal well, never have. I get pockets in them where sweat and crap lingers and I have to clean the areas like pimples. I dont want them anymore. I dont want anything to do with any of them.
But I still have to bind them.
I still have to readjust them in my binder.
I still have to wash them.
I still have to toss and turn to find a comfortable position between suffocation, smothering, pinches or unending sweat.
I still have to put lotion on the extremely dry and chapped skin from binding.
I still have to carry them around on my aching shoulders.
I still have to nearly suffocate with them just to tie my shoes.
I still have to feel them jerk and yank on my sore back when I try to use a treadmill.
I still have to make sure there's no sores because they dont bother to tell me when something hurts anymore.
I still have to try and save up 8000$ to get rid of them because insurance doesnt give a flip.
I still have them.
And they taunt me.
My relentless bully...is my own body.
Yesterday afternoon a rental RV pulled in to the campground space adjacent to mine. I didn't take much notice of it. I glanced there occasionally and was surprised to find that the couple were sitting in the cab of the truck. Kind of odd since the first thing one does is connect up the water, electricity, and waste disposal. I made my dinner and while cooking my pork chop decided to ask them if all was alright. Maybe they were unfamiliar with what to do and embarrassed to ask?
After eating my chop (which was delicious!) I headed over there. The man was in the cab, the woman no where to be seen. He popped out and I explained that I noticed them in the cab and was just checking to see if they needed any help. He was very friendly, in his 60s I think, and said it was just a comfortable place to sit and update his Facebook while keeping an eye on his own BBQ. His girlfriend then came out too, very big blond hair, friendly. I learned that they are from North Carolina, very small towns (about 2,000 people) near Raleigh, heading to Frisco (please, please, don't ever say that. It's San Francisco) today I think. We separated back to our RVs and the evening.
Last night I considered which side of the bathroom bill they are on. My guess is that they are on the trans-phobic side as they also made a small sleight about a minority. So now I'm wondering if I should venture there again this morning and ask them about the bathroom bill. And if they are for the discrimination ask them what concerns them. And regardless, then tell them that I'm transgender, and assure them that while in male mode (which they see me now) neither I or anyone I know who is trans would even consider entering a women's washroom. I could do it, sure. But I'm scared to think what might happen. Probably nothing physical, but emotional? Do I want to deal with that?
Anyway, I left my copy of Janet Mock's book "Redefining Realness" in the campground book exchange area. Maybe someone will read it and learn something. I hope so.
P.S. That couple left the park while I was in the laundry room, so they were unaware of their neighbor, the transwoman. I suppose I'll always wish I'd gone ahead and broached the subject with them. Who knows, we might have had a nice chat over a glass of wine. Given the same circumstances that's what I plan to do the next time. Live and learn.
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Update - 12/6/2016
To say that a lot has happened since I last posted is an understatement. I will post more later.
I am currently recovering from FFS surgery on Dec 2nd. I had a brow reduction & lift. Upper eyelid surgery, rhinoplasty, fat transfer to the cheeks. Chin reduction and shaping and tracheal shave. Tomorrow I have an appointment to hopefully take some of the stitches out and splint on my nose..
I have been off from work since Dec 1st and will be returning to work as Lisa on Dec 19th. I changed my name with the court and my name and gender marker on my SS card. In a few days, I will be going to the DMV and later the passport office to change my name and gender marker there as well.
Unfortunately due to some issues I won't be able to host my content here anymore. I have many reasons. But thank you gentle folk for your love and support. I wish you all the best. If you want to be in contact:
Hear me screaming at the clouds on twitter: @charllandsberg or my Twitter Profile
Come have a look at my weird and wonderful art on Tumblr
Have a look at my cooking and everyday photography on Instagram
I'm all over the place. Be good. Take care of yourselves.
All my love
It's been awhile since I've written anything here - that was partly (largely) because of school and recovery. My recovery from GRS is going well, I've now been cleared for everything (including tennis and sex!), and I'm down to dilating twice a day (until the end of June). There was some granulated tissue, but that's been taken care of. And I've now had the delightful female experience of having my feet up in the stirrups for a medical exam! It doesn't make you feel at all vulnerable (sarcasm). I'm glad that my surgeon's staff is entirely female, I suspect that part of the process would have been a little more uncomfortable if her PA who was checking me was male.
I recently finished co-facilitating an 8-week support group for transgender people, this one was focused on those who had recently come out and/or were in the early stages of transitioning. The most interesting part for me personally was that going in I saw myself as in a very different place than the group members (since I've pretty much come out everywhere, and my physical transitioning is largely done), but there was definitely a common thread that made me very much part of the group (since it's a peer-run support group it was fine that I was sharing as well, thought I always made sure it was after anyone else had shared, I never took a priority position for myself). Specifically, the sense of alienation and rejection that people felt because of their gender identity, that's still definitely a very big part of my life - especially now that surgeries are done and I'm thinking more about the prospects of dating :-(
Trans Workers UK is a Facebook closed group that advances Trans rights in the UK workplace, I'm a member of the group and regularly advice is sought and given by trans workers on most aspects of being trans at work. However by far the most numerous postings are for trans who are still "in the closet" as far as work is concerned, who are wanting advice from those of us who are fully out in the workplace and in life. Most of these folk have come up against the societally conditioned old barrier, that they'll be ridiculed, or lose their jobs and workmates, this is by far the biggest hurdle that we have to overcome, it's our pre-judice, based on experience in society at large. Most don't realise that it's 2016 & not 1975 anymore, and that attitudes have moved on.
Anyway I posted my recent experience to help them overcome their fears;
"Last week my employer (a County Council) sent me on a Fire Risk Assessors course, with a view to my carrying out Fire Risk Assessments for the Council's properties. This sort of fits in with my existing role as a H&S Advisor. Anyway I was kinda nervous about attending the course which was held at the Firefighting College in Moreton in the Marsh. I had imagined it as being a very male orientated place, and half expected to be stared at or have the occassional joke or wise crack made at my expense. I couldn't have been more wrong, I was pleasantly surprised to find that doors were held open for me by smiling young firefighters, who were also very polite. I thought wow, if anyone had told me 3 years ago that I'd be wearing knee high boots, treggings, leopard print top, make-up and attending as a woman at the firefighters college, I'd have said "yeah, in your dreams". But there I was doing it. So to all who are contemplating gender change at work, but think it's impossible, think again, I've done it, it's so much easier than you might think. No, as a male I was not a small built effeminate man, I was a 100 kg 5'10" bloke with wide shoulders and narrow waist, and yeah, I thought it impossible to do what I've done, and yet here I am as Eve, my true self. I hope that this helps to inspire others to to do what they really want and not hang about wasteing time, I regret not doing what I did much earlier in my life. Good Luck to you all xx".
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Today is St. Distaff's Day. Compitalia, celebrating the household Gods. Today we honor Frigg and her followers, the "Freefolk". "Partly work, and partly play Ye must on Saint Distaff's Dayu" the old adage goes. It is also time for me to "shield in place". I need to take a break from the constant ups and downs regarding "my" dysphoria. My affliction. Tired of facing inward and trying to fix something that in the scope of my life? A lot less of an "issue" than it needs to be, considering. What? Well, let's throw out some things shall we? I have recieved some excellent "counseling" from someone who says my dysphoria is NOT my biggest concern. OK. Good to know. My counselor is a pretty decent person. Specializies in helping people who's professional lives expose them to some very traumatic stuff. I was amazed at how good this person was at getting me to talk. Good to find someone I can be comfortable with. A person that is familiar with the "problems" people who work in compartmented "projects" all they're lives can develop. I thought I was lossing it to Paranoid schizophrenia! The counselor just laughed at me and said "No, that's called self preservation. Johnathan Pollard actually existed. That actually happened. Your pretty much screwed for the rest of your life, just stay frosty and relax". Showed me this picture and said if you can balance these? Your mental health issues will be skosh. When I broached "dysphoria"? Push me over with a feather, the counselor replied "You'd be astounded to know just how many people I deal with could use a little clarity on THAT subject". Love them Doc's that don't beat around the bush!
How is your 2017 going to go? I have a good idea of how mine is going to go. Lots and lots of time in medical facilities. Lots of appointments. Lots of testing. I am VERY HAPPY about that. This flurry of medical activity surrounds my Soulmate and not me. She is FINALLY going to get the medical assistance and screening that she deserves. She is. not me. I am working on my "blackouts" and my manic depression issues, but for now, I am good. I have a mea culpa. I have NOT been a good spouse for a while. My prediliction with my tripartite self. I have been selfish. So, there you go. "Ronnie" is a steady state for me. 50/50. MODLOC. I have a lot of "new" things to deal with. I can NEVER drive a car on public roads EVER again, unless it is the most dire of emergencies. I can't get on an airliner. I wouldn't be able to fly a plane. I'm not even supposed to operate power tools without supervision anymore! But that doesn't mean I have to stop living or caring about the awesome folks I've met here.
I was going to leave this site and then I thought, why? It can help me. Hopefully, I can be of help to someone else. I have 41 and in a less than a month, 42 Y E A R S invested in the person that I DO love most. Violet pretty much is my Universe and she deserves better from me. Sure, some will say that I may be "disengenious" with regard to the "community". That I am not being "true" to myself. Really? I exist in a different "plane" than most people. The person who is my betrothed is also a Petty Officer in the US NAVY, like I am. She saved my life. That's what she does. She can make a towering Marine break out in a sweat by snapping a rubber band, holding a syringe and saying "Need to draw some labs". The only things that can make the USMC hesitate? Godzilla and Hospital Corpsman. Oops, my bad. Hospital Corpsman THEN Godzilla. Got to preserve the natural order of things as the Creator has made them. Nope, for me? This fight isn't about a community. It's about my sanity and I am the ONLY one that can fight it and that means being in it to win it. I may never be "complete", but I promise, I will try NOT to be boring. But I'm not that salty so having a wingman? PRICELESS. I know she always has my back. BRAVO ZULU Doc!
So for this new blog, I chose "Scutum" because I need a shield right now. Something that will insulate me from the Demon I have just gotten to go back to sleep. Scutum is called "Sobieski's Shield" in some places in Europe. Jan III Sobieski was a bad ass. Your writings here and how you look at the World and what you are doing to cope and just the minutiae of our everyday existence can be the exact thing I need to stabilize when I start to get wiggy! 2 anchors are better than one. I have Violet and I have you all. I am blessed. Monsters from the id. They're real.
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Over the past several days, I've been coming out a little more. Back on 2-22, I told my oldest sister and her fiance. It all started when I mentioned that I feel like several people live in me and at least one of them is a girl. The only reaction I got was when my sister told me not to get the surgery, and she believes Bruce Jenner would not look good as a woman. I told her that I'm not sure where this will lead. I couldn't afford treatment, anyway, and the pain would really make a cry baby out of me.
Just yesterday, I let my one friend from church hear more about it. This is the same one I told back on February 8 and I wrote about it in the first blog about spilling the beans. I let him know this is far from over, because I spent so many years trying to deny this thing, swearing up and down that I cannot be this way. My friend believes I might have to receive my sight in order for this to go away. He reassured me that I'm still part of the body of Christ. This friend dreamed, several years ago, about me receiving my sight. He strongly believes it's going to come true, someday. In the meantime, he's keeping my transgender confession between us. Any time I'm alone with him, I feel I am going to have to keep pouring this stuff out and getting it off my chest. I cannot even open up to my parents about this. It will give them more of a reason to call me a weirdo and tell me I just need to grow up. I've heard that stuff, all my life, for other reasons. Anyway, a key confession I told my friend, yesterday, is how, when it comes to needing someone to lead me to a bathroom, I prefer women to do it instead of men, never mind my biological designation as male. I am more concerned with what's between my ears and what's inside this shell of flesh and bones. The friend never criticized or warned me I will go to hell if I don't straighten up and fly right. He just listened. He's at a loss as to what to tell me other than his belief that it would have to come with divinely receiving eyesight through Jesus' healing power. I am a firm believer in miracles, and I ask God, all the time, to heal me, as I am created by Him and for Him. As long as he leaves the thorn in me, he will give me the grace to deal with it. That's especially comforting when I often have to deal with unexplainable physical discomfort I get in the manly region. Doctors haven't been able to figure out why I burn down there. I don't always empty the bladder, and that's a mystery. All they can say is I just need to learn to live with it. I told the friend of this bizarre connection between the feeling female around men, something that's been there since I was 4 or 5, and the burning sensation I've had for several years. We just leave it up to God. Only he knows what good is possibly going to come from all of this. So, as for now, I am blind and I am transgender, and there's nothing I can do about it. I cannot deliver myself. It's up to God, and if he's at all offended by the way I am, he alone will change it. It is what it is. He knows I long to be saved in the end.
Hi there all
I thought that my migraines would be a thing of the past seeing that it is testosterone related, but hey it the first I had in a few months.
The sensation of getting nauseous and disliking the way light makes my eyes and head feel is one thing I dont like. It aggravates me to a degree that I would just want to punch a hole through a wall just to focus the pain on something else.
I know when my estrogen levels are higher with my intake it deminishes. So I will definitely be talking to my endo about lifting the dose so that I can actually demish this sensation, seeing that after this operation it was dropped to 0.625mg to maintain my body. Not mentioning what I am taking as I am not prescribing medication for anyone and this is lower then what the international doses are, and yes I also know that I shouldn't be comparing South Africa with any other country, but when it comes to administering certain medication, we are following a totally different set of rules.
Majority of the time I'm feeling better. But the hematoma has gotten me down a few more times this week too. Did I mention, that the surgeon told me initially after the first week after the surgery that the hematoma would disappear after about 6 weeks, and 9 days later when I went for a followup again, that it looks as though my recovery will take about 2 to 3 months. What a bummer, right. I was thinking that I would be good and running about by now.
Okay, seeing that I'm giving an update, here goes. I can walk short distances and then I'm sore, which a long distances (endurance) walker doesnt want to hear right, precisely. I gained 2Lbs in the first week, lost 6Lbs a week later, and then gained a pound the week after that only to go down and he pound I gained. I know that this is due to the hormonal fluctuations caused by the operation, but now I'm wondering if this fluctuations aren't only effecting my weight, capabilities to eat and also possibly this onset of the migraine.
The reason I started the blog was to check how my mood and everything would change.
Talking about my mood changing, I've come to find a difference in the way I handle stressful situations. Normally where I go through the sensation of wanting to smash, meaning punch things when I'm angry, I release it through tears. Yes, I've become a cry baby of sorts. But I still tackle things head on first.
But if I didn't mentally change throughout this hormonal fluctuations in my body, as the chemistry in my brains are normalizing I wouldnt be human to start with right.
So be prepared for changes and keep holding on. We are all strong individuals, and we should all learn how to be vulnerable as well as the heroes we might be to others. Because being strong doesn't mean we dont have weaknesses, it just means we have learnt how to deal with those weaknesses that were flung unto us.
Stay strong, be beautiful. And above all, what does aphrodisiac beauty mean, as I've been told I am that, any good explanation please, as I dont see myself as a knockout beauty queen.
Cheers for now
Somewhere around here, I've shared the fact that my mother is NOT accepting of my transgender being. She was. At first. But then something changed, and she wanted to hear no more about it. She let me know she bore only ONE son [and that wasn't me]. She's also gone so far as to say that there is "nothing 'wrong'" with me, I was just adversely influenced and affected by my work environment and the people I worked around and with - all men. She refuses to accept that I wanted to be in job where I felt comfortable, and felt more myself - that being, with other men.
I already knew that my mother was a "girly girl." She was the kind of girl growing up that laid across her bed, looking at fashion mags and dreaming of a big wedding, a husband, children and a family. In fact, my mother did not leave home until she was married. My mother also used to draw and water colour. What did she draw? Women in all the top fashions of the day. She could have been one of those people that illustrates the envelopes that women's sewing patterns come in.
A few years ago, I learned that my mother is perhaps (I hate to admit it), a bit on the vain side. In a rant one day, the rant that pretty much shut down all future conversation about me being a transgender man (and despite that the topic really was irrelavent to a degree about me being trans), she talked about how any man she had ever dated had to be physically fit (no pot bellies, for example), had to be a good dresser (that didn't include jeans, or as they were most often called back then - dungarees), had to have neat [appropriately short] hair, and be the quintessentially perfect gentleman. She went on to let me know that my father was a very nice dresser and a gentleman.
Now, yeah, nothing wrong in dressing nice when the occasion calls for it. And nothing wrong in a man being a gentleman. But my mother was the type of woman that expected and demanded those qualities to the Nth degree. Of course on the flip side of that coin, she expected that women should dress a certain way with strict attention to whatever the occasion was, AND there were things she felt that only [bio]men should do, be able to do, know how to do, and that unless you are a [bio]man, you don't know jack about those things. In those things, she would and still does defer to men and take only the word of a [bio]man.
Example: cars. Doesn't matter what I know... if I try to tell her something, suggest something, advise her of a problem, give an opinion, offer to repair something...she will invariably ask me what do I know about it, how do I know it, who told me or how did I learn it. If it's something very minor, she may accept what I suggest or recommend. But anything more than minor, she will wave me off saying, "I don't know." Later, she will make it a point to ask a man about it whether that man is a mechanic, burger flipper, surgeon or pencil pusher.
In fact, I have learned since my dad died that there are things my mother does not know how to do. Doesn't have a clue. Things that, if she'll let me, I do for her 'cause... she doesn't have a clue. She will let me know, "you father always took care of that - I didn't have to do those kinds of things." It's not that my father didn't let her do these things, it's that in my mother's world, those things were his job to do, and she expected him to do them. My father, being the quintessentially perfect gentleman, acquiesced.
And so now, we come to the present. Over breakfast the other day, mother was telling me that she had stayed up a little too late the night before - she had been watching a movie that "had Madea in it." She couldn't remember the title of the movie and was describing some of the characters. When it came to Madea, she stumbled over what to call the character choosing instead to say "Tyler Perry." I said, "Madea." She said [paraphrasing], "he, Tyler Perry, he plays Madea." Then she went on trying to describe a scene, referring to Madea as "he." I retorted with, "she. Madea is a woman." My mother came back with, "but Madea is played by a man." This was supposed to justify her referring to Madea as "he" and "him."
My mother is so steeped in a strict male/female society, that she can't even refer to Madea as a woman, like most people apparently seem able to do, though I'm sure for many it's only because it's entertainment. It hit me then -- how will I ever expect that my mother will see and accept me as a man, when she can't even use the proper pronouns for a fictional character in a movie?
Today I received a call from a trans center; the person on the phone invited me to a group meeting at 4:00pm to 6:00pm. I called them about a month and a half ago, and didnot here a thing till today, 2/6/2012. So I got ready<as best I could> and I drove over to the adderess I was given.
I arrived a little before 4:00pm, about 10min early; So I desided to sit in my truck and see if I saw any other transfolkes. The reason I did this is, because I learned to be cautious as a serpent, yet mild as a dove.I also, know this area very well, and know it is a known hood for gang members; I grew up there.
So I sat there ......I didnot see one Transperson; I said to myself, "if I see one of them I go in the building." I waited till the clock read 15 min past 4:00pm; all I did see was a family come out of the place, and many gang members go in; not one of them looked to be trans/nada!!
So I left then I decided to right this experience down....Be Careful!!
When you look for a center on line.
Thats where I found this one, I didnot like the area...Call me a chicken, but I'm a live one!!
This was nothing like the LGBT Center I belong to!! So in short I just don't want to read in the news paper about another transgender person getting hurt, or worse. I don't like anyone taking advantage of one of us. In my eyes if one of us gets hurt we all get hurt!! I really mean this; it's how I feel.
Peace Out!!...>^.^<..and be smart & safe!!
Magnolia flowers as with many plant flowers have perfect flowers or another term bisexual flowers. This means the flower has both a functional male stamen & a female pistil flower part. Also in nature some plants are mono-ecious, meaning male & female flowers are found on different parts of the plant. This is extraordinary to me because in nature it is so common place for organisms to posses both female & male qualities. A magnolia tree could be called transgender, without an...y other conditions or stipulations. If there is such evolving happenings taking place in nature all the time. Are we as human beings not part of this earthly experience? We are so caught up in female & male identities when in nature adapting to ever changes of environment is just all about preserving life. As long as the conditions within the environment are right, nature seems to find a unique way of reproduction.
All my life I sought a life-long relationship, and, yes, I found true love for ten years, (in my forties), only to lose it for my refusal to marry her (back then, a Holy Union), for fear of losing my Disability benefits and bankrupting her as a result.
As I approach my 60's, I realize I have become more complex, because of all the life experience I have been through, making it more difficult for me to find someone with whom I am compatible. What brought this home to me was my experience with four Lesbian dating websites, (from my mid-fifties to the present), where the women my age (59) were more complicated and had more complex demands on a potential partner.
Slowly, it gradually occurred to me, that if I didn't find an alternative way of looking at love and companionship, that very likely I would remain single and have no romantic love and companionship for the rest of my life.
Gradually, I realized serial brief relationships (with the possibility of a relationship growing into a friendship or even a long-term relationship) would be a lot more realistic.
Here are my reasons:
WHY IT'S BEST I LIVE ALONE
- Am set in my ways.
- Needs to use the bathroom on short notice.
- Terrible odor when I use the bathroom.
- Never shared my living space (not even with my lover of 10 years).
- Can not share my apartment and finances due to being on Disability.
- Needs to live in HUD Public Housing (if anyone wanted to live with me, they, too, would have to be "very low income," too).
- Allergic to horses, dogs, cats and birds (most Lesbians not only have cats and dogs, but sleep with their pets).
- Am actually happy with my apartment (and I am unlikely to find as good an apartment - especially HUD Housing - anywhere).
- Only negative where I live is some residents in Beacon and many residents of my apartment complex, I don't like. Avoid them and save money to take trips every three or four months.
- Love my building.
- Management treats me humanely.
- Maintenance treats me humanely, and does an efficient and thorough job maintaining and cleaning the building as well as making repairs in my apartment. (Most HUD Public Housing properties are poorly maintained.)
- Very low crime rate where I live. (The lowest crime rate I have every seen at a HUD Public Housing property I have ever seen.)
Here are what I think are the advantages of short-term relationships:
The Advantages of Short-Term Relationships
- Due to very low income (some would call this a "budget income," I can not relocate quickly to continue dating a woman (in order to avoid a "U-Haul" situation where I would move in with her, and hope for the best!)
- Most women do not qualify (very low income) and are uncomfortable dating a woman who lives in HUD Public Housing, especially if it is poorly maintained and is in a dangerous neighborhood.
- Able to enjoy the relationship before the drama and games begin.
- Can't find a woman locally to me because of homophobia where I live. (Most women are already coupled before they move here.)
- Both parties should be single out of respect for other relationships and for themselves.
- Sex is not the primary reason for such a relationship, but companionship.
Of course, there are many other reasons people may choose short-term relationships rather than long-term or lifelong relationships.
Would like to hear from others if they resonate with this in their own lives (especially if they are 60 +) and how realistic they think this is.
Am I selling myself short? Or am I having realistic expectations for a 59 year old, average-looking woman, who is kind, compassionate, supportive and has many interests?
Thank you in advance for your comments!
Wow So much has happened in the last year (since 5/1/2014) the day first saw my therapist and she said those fateful words “oh it sounds like you may be transgender.” I’d never heard those words before. But those words that have turned my world upside down. No actually they have turned my world upside right, but have turner everyone else’s upside down.
So here’s what has happen since I heard those words
On May 31st came out to my wife
Sometime in July, finally said I might be transgender.
August 29th went to my first Trans Support Group
August 30th came out to my health coach
October said that I am transgender
November 2nd came out to my colorist
November 10th met a trans friend
November 17th came out to my doctor
November 17th started wearing nothing but women’s clothes every day
About November 20th stopped having migraines
November 19th came out to my nail girl
December 3rd came out to my massage therapist
December 3rd through January 31st came out to about 25 sales women
About January 1st stopped taking all medications, sleeping pills, muscle relaxers, or antidepressants
January 10th saw new therapist
January 11th got fitted for my first bra
January 31st told 2 women at blood bank
About February 1st totally accepted and even embraced the fact I am transgender.
February 2nd came out to friend in Texas (1st guy)
February 18th told my new doctor
January 28th told 2 more women at blood bank
March 16th came out to my cousin
March 28th came out to my daughters
March 28th through April 30 came out to 10 other sales women
April 22nd met a new friend and she totally accepts me for me
April 25th came out to my best friend (2nd guy)
So now today I don’t hate myself. I don’t hate the fact I am transgender. In fact I love me for who and what am, and that’s a transgender woman.
On the day you I firs heard “you may be transgender” and there was a magic pill I could take to make me not be trans, I would have taken it in a heartbeat.
3 months ago I am not sure I what would have done. Today I am not taking it and there’s no way you can force it down my throat.
I used to look at it as a curse, but now see it as a blessing. I would not want to be not trans because I would not just lose part of me, I would lose me.
I am so much a peace with who and what I am I have not taken any numbing medications(sleeping pills, muscle relaxers, or antidepressants ) in over 4 months and have only had 1 migraine in 5 last months. I think that’s really awesome. It’s not that I feel better than I ever have it that I feel alive for the first time.
So today I say I am transgender,
YES I AM PROUD TO BE TRANSGENDER!!
“oh it sounds like you may be transgender.”
PS by the way the translation “oh it sounds like you may be transgender.”
for me is "of course you not a sick disgusting pervert" which is what I thought for most of the first 55 year of my life" So in essence those words have freed me from my self made prison I spent my whole life in.
It’s an odd feeling, hoping that there is something wrong with you. Really hoping that you’re sick, and that you can use that to explain what’s happening. I’m loathe to book the blood tests though, not only because they’re a nuisance that involves me taking time off of work but because I fully expect them to reveal nothing.
The phlebotomist will take the samples, I like her; she’s a friend of a friend and always asks after him and what he’s been up to. Then the samples will disappear for a couple of weeks. Finally the surgery will send me a letter.
It’ll look something like this:
“We’ve had the results of your blood test. We can confirm that your cholesterol levels are very high, putting you at risk of serious health conditions, including stroke and heart attack. You’ll be pleased to know, however, that we found no other abnormal readings. Please make an appointment as soon as possible so we can discuss the results and your options.”
My symptoms are weight gain, which I don’t mind as I like being heavier, depression, high cholesterol and very high fatigue. It’s the fatigue that’s ruining my life, it feels like every other day I have to ask to work from home because I can barely keep my eyes open.
The cholesterol is also worrying, mostly because I know I’m fat but I’m happy as I am. I’m already a vegetarian, I don’t eat dairy (apart from chocolate and cheese) so that actually cuts out most sources of dietary cholesterol.
In essence, I don’t want a formal confirmation of something that I can already hear in my head (naturally, in my father’s patronising, sanctimonious, calculating voice):
“You’re depressed and have cholesterol problems because you don’t go to the gym and don’t eat like a nutritionist. If you got off your fat backside you would probably feel less tired, too.”
My symptoms have all the hallmarks of an underachieve thyroid, which my maternal grandmother also has. The fact it’s such a perfect fit seems to make it all the more likely that it won’t be the culprit.
I’d love an easy answer, for once. Something that explains why it’s damned hard to even get out of bed. Why my eyes are stingy and dry. Why just housework tires me out. Why I have such acute bouts of depression. Why my cholesterol is high enough to actually make the doctor raise their eyebrows (which is not a fun feeling).
So, I’m on the sofa. I’m remoted in to work. The telephone is nearby. My coffee is slowly going cold. It’s nearly noon. I can’t bring myself to book the blood test. The coffee feels like it’s in another room. I’m too bleary-eyed to start work; I almost expect to be fired for working from home too much. The telephone feels like it’s in another country.
Just like Gwen. I wish she were here. I wish Cloud was here too, my best friend in all the world. My girlfriend is in the Netherlands, and has gone radio-silent again. Cloud is in France visiting his family. It’s okay: Cloud will be back tomorrow, and I’ve learnt that Gwen being quiet doesn’t ‘mean’ anything (much as my neuroses try to twist it into one). She’ll be back soon enough.
Work isn’t going anywhere. Not really. They need me, and my working from home is only just an inconvenience. In my defence, I also remoted in over the weekend and did a load of extra work for them just because I felt like it.
I’ll start small. Coffee first. Everything else in time.
When an adventure requires its central character to play the role of hero and damsel the plot becomes very confusing and at odds with itself very quickly, this was an experience to be savoured and suffered. I finally took the final step on escaping the cross-dresser skin that had wrapped me up so tight. I stepped out of this all-encompassing cocoon and tip-toed delicately and naked in the free air as woman for the first time. Gone was the awkward, exaggerated mannerisms and grace and beauty was found. For the first time I blushed at a mans affections rather than acting like a man in a dress, I felt like one of the girls and discovered just how different and real my situation is now.
For the first time I belong. The outsider is in from the cold.
It may not have been as realistic as the picture dictates but for the first time I had a place to call my own and my confidence blossomed into a powerhouse that was a runaway steam train on fire. I strutted my stuff, wiggled my arse and other revellers called me miss and sweetie! Arriving at this monumental part of my life has excited as well as humbled me, freedom has never been so close, the jailor had forgotten to lock the cell door and my escape has begun.
With all my strength my cell door has been broken and I breathe free air for the first time.
While all this excitement was happening inside me some very real experiences also cropped up that I had not considered before. Using the little ladies room for the first time was very surreal and I actually felt fear as I fumbled with makeup and tried to smile with the other girls.
Now, any man will know that using the gents is normally a quiet experience, a place of reflection, you think about how to get home, what you are going to say to the pretty girl next, and so on. It is a generally peaceful place, where men clear their throats and spit in the trough, they may joke with one another very briefly about how liberating that first mighty piss is. But what hit me like a tidal wave upon entering the ladies was absolute chaos, girls huddled in groups nattering like a mothers meetings, tissue and makeup gunk everywhere, and I am surprised there is not a sand shortage with all the mirrors lined up one after the other. I think a few of my fellow toilet dwellers could sense my anguish with this strange world, one actually asked if I was okay, I brushed it off as being a little tipsy but on reflection I wish I had explained my inexperience.
Another aspect that I have to improve on very quickly is applying makeup while standing up. I have practiced and practiced at my make shift dresser at home, but nothing prepared me to have to stand, with others watching, and make myself beautiful.
I had visions of the chaos but no imagination could have prepared me for this!
Later on in the evening, after I had become rather drunk, I was now stumbling about as opposed to gliding like a flower on the breeze, my next experience is one that has taught me the biggest practical lesson to being a woman. Whatever is going on, where ever you are, no matter who you are with, never, ever under any circumstances lose your handbag.
I was trying to make my way through an overcrowded corridor of the club and as I passed through a doorway another clubber hooked onto my handbag some how and it was ripped from my shoulder and back into where I had come from. At first I could not actually believe it. I started searching furiously around me and started to panic. Phone, money, cards, not to mention the cost of replacing all that makeup! I was like a damsel in distress and while at the time all I could think about was to not start crying, the actual emotion has added to my overall experience and made me feel more like a woman. Luckily my handbag had ended up with some lovely doorstaff who not only gave me back my little bag of tricks but comforted me to some degree, again adding to my feeling of real womanhood.
I am liberated and cannot wait for more days like this.
One of the members here recently was feeling down (I hope that you feel better today:) and discouraged. One of the things was that men are sending her unwanted friend requests and messages on social sites.
This is such an annoyance for transgender women and makes us all to aware how we can be objectified as fetish objects by a certain type of guy who don't really see us as real people, let alone women. Sometimes you just get so fed up with it, and at the wrong time, it can really get to you. They all seem to say and ask the same or similar things which can run the spectrum from ignorant, to insulting, to just so creepy that you feel like you need to take a shower after reading them. I'm thinking why not have some fun at these creep's expense. I'm going to list some of the typical things, usually the opening line from a message that I've gotten. Tell me if it sounds familiar and add some of the ones that you've gotten, ok? Of course, I can't include the more X rated comments that I've gotten.
1. You a tranny?
2. I'm curious and want to "try" a tranny, you want to be my first?
3. Do you Skype?
4. Text me. 555 555 5555.
5. Send me pictures.
6. Send me naked pictures.
7. Do you still have "it?"
8. Is 67 too old? (I'm 19)
9. Give me your number. (like I'm going to give a complete stranger my phone#!)
10. Give me your phone number and I'll send you a picture of my.....
11. What are you wearing?
12. Do you have boobs?
13. How big is your....
14. Hi, do you like me?
15. I'm on he down low, do you want to be my secret thing? (yeah, I want to be somebody's "thing")
There are so many more that are probably worse, and many too creepy to say here on tgguide. These are a few that I've heard over and over. On a dating site that I tried recently, some of the user names tell you right up front what these guys are all about. I also can't write most of those here, but for example, how many girls are looking to meet a guy that calls himself "freakdude69?"
It can be so frustrating, I so understand why this gets to other girls. At first i was actually a little flattered that guys were (I thought) interested in me, but I got onto what they were about and really got so sick of it.
So girls, are there any particularly weird, clumsy, funny or bizarre things that guys have said to you? At least things that you can say here, but nothing to "graphic."
Again, I'm leaving out those that are too creepy, sexually graphic or disgusting....which are most of the comments that girls like us get.
La la la:)))
well today has been another day.... I mean what are we here for? to think the way we live is a choice---really the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I pluck my facial hair because I don't want stubble....let a man do that---lmbo----he would cry like--ironically a girl---- I live for me and refuse to live for whatever society thinks I should. I say once and forall deal with me world because I am real and I am here.
"Leelah Alcorn, born Joshua Ryan Alcorn, walked in front of a tractor trailer in Warren County, Ohio and scheduled a suicide note to be posted on Tumblr after her death." - http://www.christian....suicide/45253.
I don't usually start out this way, on a sad note, but no matter how many times I play these words through my head, there is nothing but the same sad song coming out.
As a person who has lost multiple people to suicide, I am going to say what needs to be said; the living be angered and the dead be damned. It needs to be said.
I am angry with you, kid. Maybe other people won't say that to you, because you are dead, but I will, and I can, because you aren't here to defend yourself, so I can say what ever I want. I have read your note time and time again. I mourn you loss with the rest of the world of people who know what you have gone through, and felt your pain at one time or another, and some who maybe even today, this very moment know exactly what you went through.
I am sad that you are gone, and angry with you. You are not a martyr. I won't follow suit behind the people who say you died for a cause. No You died because you had some Romeo and Juliette romantic fantasy about changing the world by walking in front of a truck. Great. Now you're dead and some innocent semi-driver has to live with knowing he was the one who ran your body over. Didn't see that one coming in your attempt to change the world for the better, did you.
When you were a child, you realized you were different. You told and no one believed you. You said the words and others refuted you. You KNEW WHO YOU WERE.. a gift that so many don't ever get to receive, and instead of staying the course, and hanging on just a little longer, you left. Took your life and ruined the lives of the driver and the people who depended on him. You were suffering, and you made others suffer because you were too selfish to hang on just a couple more years until you could get out of your parents home and live a life of your own.
No, I will not be more kind to you because you are dead. It's the harsh reality that the kids I work with and talk to on a daily basis who feel like their lives are twisted tragedies of maladaptive behaviors and undesirable, unlovable masses of waste now feel like they have an 'out'.
"Leelah did it" [speaking of your suicide] "And people are noticing her!"
My response started out as one of compassion for you when I first heard your story, Leelah. But now it is compassion wrapped with truth. None of this candy coated "Poor Leelah". Rather "Yep Leelah did it and now she will never have a chance to tell her story to other kids going through what she went through, or how she made it out, and really learned to change the world"
A martyr dies for a cause he believes in, and goes to his or her grave with the full knowledge that nothing more could be done on their part, that they fought the good fight until the very end.
You, Leelah gave up.
And now you are a misguided symbol to the transgender kids I work with and talk to; that if things get too tough, their fifteen minutes of fame and admiration will come through their death... NOTHING CHANGES IF YOU GIVE UP!
How many years will people know who you are? How many months will your name roll off the tongues of the youth? People know who Martin Luther King, Joan of Arc, Jesus Christ, Buddha, and Nelson Mandela (Who suffered greatly for his cause though not put to death) because they stayed through the hard times, fought for their freedoms, fought for their rights, and the rights of others.
The problem is not that you were a transgender woman that no one understood. The problem is that you decided you would walk away, take the easy way out. "Mom and dad fuck you" are not words that can be held in high regards. Nope, they didn't listen to you. Nope they didn't treat you with the respect you believed you deserved. Yep that does make them sorta shitty parents. Nope, I don't agree with their actions, nor do I completely condemn them. As parents they did what they felt they could do to make their family whole on a level that they understood. Nothing more nothing less.
Socrates was a man who could have avoided death. There were people on the ready to give up their wealth, their families and their homes to help him escape prison. Other People hated him because he told the truth, and made people see their own hypocrisies. He was the snarkiest man of his day.. He chose to fight the good fight and follow through with the right thing to do. People listened to him, thousands of years ago, and even today. Newsflash.. he was a shitty parent, too and is rumored to have been a terrible son. You were not a terrible son, or a terrible daughter. You were a kid who needed to take more time to grow up.
You had a voice, you gave it away. The last words you wrote were words of deep emotional sentiment, and anger, and hurt, and mistrust. Your words wont last, because there will be another, and another and another who will follow in your footsteps of giving up. You will be in a long sad line of quitters. No one ever remembers the runner up. If you wanted to change the world, you should have stuck around, used your beautiful emotional talent to encourage others to be strong, and go on. Change comes through proactive measures. Not by giving up.
I am sorry you are gone, you had a lot to offer the world. You were obviously someone who had powerful things to say, but now, you can say nothing, and I have to contend with your actions through the kids I work with who say "But Leelah did it".
To everyone else who would read this, I say this to you. Hang in there. Today may be bleak, and full of sorrow, but you are not alone. As trans people, we have all experienced the feelings of isolation, loneliness, and maybe the shame put on us by others.
If you know a youth going through a hard time physically show them this website:
http://www.thetrevorproject.org/ The Trevor project is for LGBT youth who see no other way out. If you are the one having a hard time there are a number of ways to get help.
On Facebook, there is a group 'Tri-States Transgender Group' it is a private group- Contact: Emilie Jackson Edney.
There is always another way. Suicide is not the answer, no matter how bad things get. Ask me someday and I'll share my story. Today though, it's about you.
You matter on every level of humanity. And somewhere, you are the single most important person in the world, to someone else. Don't give up. Don't give in.
So as I mentioned in the Introductions area, I wrote a letter for my teachers to have and/or hang in their classrooms. Here it is:"Hi there! If you're reading this, then you're my teacher. Good for you! I will warn you though, I can be a bit of a handful.Allow me to tell you a bit about myself.The school "knows" (has me listed as) -------------------, and my gender listed as Female.I will tell you now, this is wrong.I identify as Male and prefer the name Andrew ------------HOWEVER.My family has yet to call me Andrew, so if you'd be so kind, use the name -------- and Female pronouns around them.What the term for this is Transgender, or gender dysphoria.Also, I'd like you to know that I am open for any questions you may have, any concerns, and anything else you'd like to know. I'd also like you to know that I am not Google, so up your knowledge a bit before you dump questions on me.Lastly, if you would like to, you can hang this letter in your classroom for other students to read. If you do, please black out my names.These are some points of reference you may use to better understand your Transgender student.Transgender 101: A Simple Guide To A Complex Issue ---- $9.99 on the App Store, may or may not be available in the Public LibraryThe Transgender Child: A Handbook For Families & Professionals ---- $9.99 on the App Store, may or may not be available in the Public LibraryBe Yourself: Questions & Answers for LGBTQ Teens ---- Free on the App Storewww.tgguide.com ---- A forum where trans* people share their stories and offer advice to trans* and cis people alikewww.transstudent.org/teachertips ---- an advice page for teachers of transgendered studentswww.gendertalk.com ---- A page about the Gender Spectrum"
I recently received an e-mail notice from here that someone had wanted to start a personal message. The e-mail stated that the individual wanted me to use their hotmail account to do so. Under some circumstances I would not mind. Under some I would.
The person used a screen name and the hotmail address gave no indication who they were. The names did not appear familiar.
I do not blame people for using screen names. Safety, workplace discretion and families all may play a part when one is transgender. I can understand that.
I typically do what may not appear to be the brightest thing in the world. I use my real name and tell the truth about myself. I personally do not care what anyone thinks. I have my reasons for what I do and if that offends some so be it. When I am offended I tend to forgive as I would hope others would forgive me.
I do not try to hide the fact that I am a heterosexual cisgender male minister. That alone causes some to have preconceived notions about me. Some may even hate before knowing anything about me. Sort of how people treat some of you as transgenders.
Neither do I hide the fact that in accordance with the word of God I do not agree with transgender views.
You will note that I never openly use the word of God to slam any transgender posts. Neither would I do so in private.
Some may wonder why I am here then. Not only the transgenders here but people who may know me in real life both in workplace and ministry.
The truth is that even though I am in disagreement with transgender views I still know that I would want people to treat me right. That means that if I was not sure about anything and questioning I would hope someone just might be around that could help and have the guts to go where some may not.
That is part of the basics of Christianity. While I may not agree with the views here there may be that babe in Christ that is wondering about some things about what the word of God says. In such a case I would hope that I could give the right answer.
Not to agree with everyone. Not to disagree with everyone. Just to be honest and tell the truth.
There are those however on any site that would just love to ask a question so they can set someone up. Run back and tell all that guy is a trans basher or whatever when it isn't the truth.
I have gay friends and co-workers. I also have some co-workers that I suspect to be transgender but not out.
I would never out any of them nor embarrass any of them. I merely try to treat them like anyone else. What they are or how they feel about straight, gay, cisgender and transgender issues means nothing at work. If they wish to reveal they are such and such to me at work they will. If not they won't. I'm there for a job and not to please people or gossip.
The reason I say all of this is because naturally I won't answer e-mails if I do not recognize the person in one way or another.
If people realize that I am here and open about who I am they should be open about who they are to me in private.
Anyone in ministry has their life a rather open book to the world. Many watch just to see if they can find fault. Sadly some try to find fault so they think they have an excuse at the judgment seat of Christ. "Well he did this or that" or "Well he said this or that" or "Well he was on such and such a site."
The truth is that we all give account of what we do and say in this world on that day. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. If someone sees me here let it be known that it is in the hope that should there be a babe in Christ and that individual wants to ask someone that is willing to be here about scripture that I am willing to help.
I am not seminary educated but then neither were Peter and John. They took note they were ignorant and unlearned men but they were with Jesus.
I guess in conclusion what I am saying is that if a person ever wants to send an e-mail be honest about who you are.
I probably have enough enemies and people wanting to either set me up or gossip about me just like you all.
I don't have any ill will towards whoever sent the e-mail. They evidently joined and sent it and then left. A search of members revealed nobody by either names. The link on the e-mail showed it could not be found here even though it brought me to this site.
As I said, even though I do not agree with transgender views I hope that the vast majority of my blog posts show I do not judge you all. How you live and what you believe is between you and God. I only drop in from time to time as on other sites I have had people send pm's asking questions about scripture and such.
To me the most important thing in this world isn't whether or not I am liked. It isn't what I possess or what the Lord gives me.
The most important thing to me is that even though the Lord shared all glory with his Father before this world was created he chose to come into it and die for the sins of people like me and you who could never repay him.
He lived a life of poverty and being hated by all men for what he spake and what he did. When he told the truth and rebuked those that were wrong they wanted to kill him. He knew that when he returned and drove the moneychangers out of the temple they would want to kill him. Yet today nobody wants to believe that he will get angry when people insist on doing that which he hates.
He was so poor that it took a miracle for him to pay his and Peter's taxes. Two hundred pennyworth is not a great wealth. I'd like to see some of the rich ones try to live on $2.00 today. It's a far cry from a mansion or jet.
He was blindfolded and beaten and his beard was pulled out and yet he stood there silent for those he would soon be butchered alive for.
They debate if he was white or black when scripture shows him to be the olive tree in the garden of the Lord God. A scourge removed much of that skin and I wonder as they pulled his beard out how much flesh came off with it.
All fled and nobody was there to even give a word of encouragement as the all this happened and he went to the cross.
Still he spake forgiveness and forgave the one thief that repented.
He finished the building of the house of God and gave up the ghost. He never once railed out against those who mocked, beat, scourged and crucified him.
He was the perfect witness of what Christians should be.
He was honest and it caused him to live in poverty and being hated of all men.
I would hope that more would try to be honest.
Even in a worst case scenario it would never be as bad as what he went through.
Having said such should anyone lurk and know me or be a member and want to send an e-mail all I ask is that they be honest about who they are.
It should be clear that would not out nor hurt anyone.