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Emma

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Everything posted by Emma

  1. Emma

    New Haircut!

    My hair was getting pretty long and I liked it. But it occurred to me that the ends likely needed trimming back a couple of inches to even it out, the bangs trimmed, and I wanted my stylist (whom I adore) to see about adding some framing around my face. So yesterday I saw her and after, she snapped this photo. I am loving my new haircut! Oh, and I started a diet last Sunday to lose what looks like some sort of baby bump in my belly. No alcohol, very light on the carbs, all that stuff. I'm committed to doing it until Thanksgiving, about 70 days from now. So far so good!
  2. Jokes are good, anytime. I like to say that I lay claim to three letters of LGBTQ, the first one and the last two!
  3. Well said, Jess. Not only do we know what most others don’t, we have a deep appreciation for authenticity, which most take for granted.
  4. Dee, Our bodies tell us truths about what our heart feels. I know exactly what you mean about wearing the nightie and knickers, and whatever else. It just has the “right” feeling. I have no idea what I’d say or do if I have dementia. Legally, I’m a woman with Emma as my name. If I was to start speaking about my past I guess the staff at the hospital would just chalk up my utterances to the dementia. Good job trying to lose weight. That will be very important for HRT as well as surgeries. The doctors may be there for you but cannot perform their work if you’re overweight. Also, of course, your health and other things will be improved too. Best wishes.
  5. Awesome story, Jessica. Transition is a huge spiritual journey too, isn’t it. Everyone’s is difficult but there are many common denominators. It’s good to hear from you. I hope you’ll keep us posted!
  6. Emma

    How To Be A Lady

    Thank you, Jess!
  7. Hi Jessica! Congratulations on completing your physical transition journey. It’s all up and to the right from here. Well, much of it, speaking for myself. I’ve been amazed at the emotional journey, not only being more at home in my body and presentation—which has taken me about three years. Also, I’m having to undo and address so much emotional baggage. Ive spent so much energy in life until transition trying to establish and maintain a steadiness, always on guard and afraid. I didn’t know exactly what I was afraid of although now it’s obvious. So good on you Jessica. The grass is Much Greener on this side of the hill!
  8. My grandfather was also a racist. I well recall how he’d complain and use the n-word in the 60s as we saw Black people on TV. But he also just adored Ernie Banks of the Cubs. Go figure. I wasn’t sure how to be around my grandpa. Should I — I asked myself — emulate his behaviors? I don’t think I did. I might have said something less committal like “yeah” when he commented on who he saw on TV. Thankfully none of his prejudices stuck to me. As I grew up and my experiences and exposures to all sorts of people around the US and the world expanded I finally came to understand: all people (and I’m including Russians, Chinese, Palestinians, ...) are simply people trying to get by and live their lives. Many are delightful; some are not. I choose to hang out with the delightful ones.
  9. Life's good for me here in Seattle. Friends, acquaintances, ... so many delightful connections and living in such a wonderful environment. I occasionally have an internal struggle (maybe too strong a word) with my being trans. On the one hand, everywhere I go I am greeted and interacted with as a woman. My lesbian friends assure me that I'm certainly accepted and seen/heard as a woman. And yet about a week ago I was at a (cis woman) friend's house and I mentioned that I missed being able to travel due to Covid. I said that I wondered how I would be accepted and treated outside the Seattle area "bubble" that we live in. Through her body language and expression she confirmed that it was at least somewhat evident that I'm trans and that yes, she also wondered how I'd get along outside of, say, the West Coast, as compared with her. I thought about this off and on for a few days. I've come to recognize that no matter what I'll always be transgender. And maybe I'm loved for that too. I went to ballet yesterday as I do twice a week (they only allow five students per class due to the virus; I'm one of the director's favorites!) and enjoyed the sincere warm feelings I share with the instructor and several of the others. On the train to/from ballet I wrote this in my phone: How To Be A Lady I started my transition three years ago. So many frightening hurdles and self-conscious steps. Some reversible, some small, some irreversibly committed to like a ski jumper launching her downhill acceleration run, but without practice or previous experience. Too many to count. At the start I didn’t have a clear vision of my goals although as I progressed through therapy, presentation refinements, voice and behavior coaching, medical therapies, and surgeries, I found my deep seated need to be fully female internally as well as to the outside world. My friends, mostly cisgender lesbians, repeatedly assured me that I was unequivocally a woman. But these days I am coming to the realization that no matter what I do, how well I pass, I am always transgender. Like ones sexuality, skin color, cultural background, education, or life, being trans isn’t my primary identity. I am a lady then and now. I arrived here by a different route than cisgender women, but I’m here all the same. If I’m going to see the future I want, I need to live and breathe it.
  10. Dee, Here's another wonderful excerpt from "Untamed": "I’ve spent much of my life lost in the woods of pain, relationships, religion, career, service, success, and failure. Looking back on those times, I can trace my lostness back to a decision to make something outside of myself my Touch Tree. An identity. A set of beliefs. An institution. Aspirational ideals. A job. Another person. A list of rules. Approval. An old version of myself. Now when I feel lost, I remember that I am not in the woods. I am my own tree. So I return to myself and re-inhabit myself. As I do, I feel my chin rise and my body straighten. I reach deeply into the rich soil beneath me, made up of every girl and woman I’ve ever been, every face I’ve loved, every love I’ve lost, every place I’ve been, every conversation I’ve had, every book I’ve read and song I’ve sung, everything, everything, crumbling and mixing and decomposing underneath. Nothing wasted. My entire past there, holding me up and feeding me now. All of this too low for anyone else to see, just there for me to draw from. Then up and up all the way to my branches, my imagination, too high for anyone else to see—reaching beyond, growing toward the light and warmth. Then the middle, the trunk, the only part of me entirely visible to the world. Pulpy and soft inside, just tough enough on the outside to protect and hold me. Exposed and safe."
  11. Oh Dee, I'm sorry you're feeling so blue and confused. "Am I scared of pushing them away by embracing Dee, or am I scared of embracing Dee because it seems like pure fantasy to consider myself female at the moment?" Probably both, and more. You're really caught in the middle, aren't you? In between what you fear if you come out to family and all, and your inner truth. Oh, if were only that easy to really know what our inner truth is. As I wrote to Emily earlier today, determining where one is under the trans umbrella takes active experimentation. Without that it's all a mind game, over-thinking, trying to figure everything out in one's head. Truly, this is not only impossible it's also so depressing. Hence weight gain, perhaps on-edge emotionally, and alcohol. Sure, it would be a shock to your daughter once she knew what you're trying to deal with. Your son and ex-wife too, as well as others. The good news is that children—especially younger ones like your daughter—find it lots easier to grasp these kinds of situations. Sure, it might be a bit upsetting, but in the long run... well, who knows. I sure don't. May I suggest a book. You know me, always suggesting another book. This time it's by Glennon Doyle and it's titled "Untamed." I read it slowly, sometimes only a couple of pages each morning, underlining and dog-earring pages to identify so much that really connected with me. Here's a small excerpt: "I am a human being, meant to be in perpetual becoming. If I am living bravely, my entire life will become a million deaths and rebirths. My goal is not to remain the same but to live in such a way that each day, year, moment, relationship, conversation, and crisis is the material I use to become a truer, more beautiful version of myself. The goal is to surrender, constantly, who I just was in order to become who this neat moment calls me to be. I will not hold on to a single idea, opinion, identity, story, or relationship that keeps me from emerging new. I cannot hold too tightly to any riverbank. I must let go of the shore in order to travel deeper and see farther. Again and again and then again. Until the final death and rebirth. Right up until then." I could add many other quotes but you might as well buy the book. One of the themes of the book is that we must be true to ourselves regardless of others, and in that truth our loved ones will witness what it means to be authentic. Then, they can choose either to journey along with you, or perhaps not. Regardless, they are given the gift of learning something so important, a rule for them to live and love by, if they choose. Yes, your ex-wife may fire off all sorts of artillery at you, both directly and indirectly. But, are you going to cede your life and power to her or anyone else? You know that I know from experience that this transitioning is very frightening. Each step felt so monumental. Even all the little things. But as I took those steps the fear melted as I realized that not only was I fine but I was also joyful living more and more authentically. I guarantee that there will be lots of bumps in the road. That's life. Here's another couple of quotes: "Like Jesus, who walked straight toward his own crucifixion. First the pain, then the waiting, then the rising. All of our suffering comes when avoid pain and consequently miss our becoming. That is what I can and must avoid: missing my own evolution because I am too afraid to surrender to the process. To trust that I'm strong enough to handle the pain that is necessary to the process of becoming. Because what scares me a hell of a lot more than pain is living my entire life and missing my becoming. What scares me more than feeling it all is missing it all. There is the me that is miserable and afraid, and there is the me that is curious and excited. That second me is not a masochist, she's wise. I know that when the pain and the waiting are here, the rising is on its way. I hope the pain will pass soon, but I'll wait it out because I've tested pain enough to try it." I underlined and bolded one sentence that speaks so clearly to me. We only have one life to live. This is it. Get the book, read it and take notes, and see if that helps you feel your inner power that I know is there.
  12. Emma

    Back on the rollercoaster

    Hi Emily, sounds like you’re making great progress. It’s so helpful to see (good) therapists. Of course they can’t provide you with the answers though, you have to work those out on your own. I may have recommended this before so please excuse me if this is old news: please read and work the exercises in Dara Hoffman-Fox’s book You and Your Gender Identity: A Guide to Discovery. You can purchase it on Amazon, Dara’s website, etc. I believe you can download a free PDF from Dara’s website. Both Dara and another gender therapist suggest that I try experimenting to determine what the best fit was for me. The first experiments are relatively easy, such as finding a local crossdressing group, attending their social events. See how it feels. (That’s the consistent way to judge the experiment.) If it feels good or right, keep doing it. If not... Try listening to your body to determine what doesn’t feel right. In my case, for example, although I enjoyed myself at their meetings, I felt I needed more, like to go out on my own as a woman. Slowly try new incremental experiments. Always listen to your body: how do you feel? (Fear is very normal, of course.) Maybe at some point you’ll feel like you’ve gone further than you want. That’s totally cool. Take a step back to a previous level and stay there for a while. Maybe that’s what you need. Maybe after living there for some time you’ll feel a need to go further (or back). You see, every trans person is different, just like every cisgender person. As a trans person it’s likely that you feel a pressure to “just know” what you need, right now. That’s not practical. Conducting your own research and experiments will help you achieve some calm because you’re actively working on figuring this stuff out.
  13. Emma

    Back on the rollercoaster

    Emily, this is a good, dare I say great, place to vent about stuff like that. If you could do what you wanted would it be: A. Be happier in your male gender and roll B. Live somewhere under the transgender umbrella, from occasional crossdresser to fully living as a woman, perhaps with or without surgery(s) C. Fully transition, legally, socially, and as physically possible to live as a woman For decades I tried to be satisfied with A, but was very depressed and spent years seeing a variety of therapists. About four years ago I determined that I am trans (after one heck of a lot of research and soul searching), and beyond that had no idea where I’d find myself transitioning, and was in B. Three years ago I started really working on determining where I was on that scale. I had no idea at the time that I’d end up where I am, living in C, for the last 18 months. One thing that surprised me is that (at least for me) my transition has continued even though I’m legally, socially, and physically, a woman. It’s been (and continues to be) quite a journey. I feel tremendous relief and joy by living authentically. The reason I provided all that is to give you some context and perspective in case you find yourself stymied and scared.
  14. BA, We've all made mistakes in our lives. And while yours was especially egregious and wrong your apology to him is admirable, really. As you wrote you still have to live with the shame and guilt. Here's my confession: I have an acquaintance who's about 60yo, black, and a journeyman carpenter and jack of all trades. I've hired him on several occasions and he's paid well! We enjoyed working together, joking back and forth, that sort of thing. He's taught me a thing or two about construction as well as his life being black. As an example, he was almost hung when he was a young boy. Why? Because he walked on a wealthy white man's lawn. Anyway, as I said we joked about all sorts of things. A couple of times I joked that I kept people in my basement for unsaid reasons. He laughed, took no offense. About a year ago I apologized to his face. He assured me that he knew I was just making a joke and it was all okay. Still, about a week ago my "joke" continued to haunt me. I sent him this text msg : Hello _____, I’ve thought of you often, wondered how you’re doing, and hoping for the best. Maybe you won another lottery? (He did, actually, win a $1M lottery! But that's another story.) No, I’m not writing about a possible work project. The reason I’m writing is that I have been and am ashamed how I joked to you about keeping people in my basement. I didn’t have the impression that I’d upset you but nonetheless I wish to sincerely apologize. It’s true that I have no real understanding of what it is like to be black. It’s easy for me to think that I do, but how would I? I well remember your telling me about the man who threatened you when you were a boy, about walking on his lawn. Here we are now, a half century later, still witnessing such abhorrent inequality, disrespect, and violence against people of color. I just wanted you to know that I’m aware of how my words may have hurt. Honestly, I never ever intended them to. You and I were having fun and I joked in a way that I should not have. Be well, safe, and true, ______. Later that day he called me to reassure me that he's fine and while he didn't see any need to apologize he appreciated my note. We then got caught up we each others lives and signed off. As you said, BA, like you I continue to hold that experience in my memory and I've learned from it.
  15. I agree, amazing. I just hope this is the early start of a much much more massive shift away from Trump and the RNC. There, I’ve said it.
  16. First, I can't imagine living in AZ. I visited Scottsdale in mid-Summer 2018: the temp was 108. Literally unbearable. Second, yeah, this whole thing is right out of a sci-fi movie or Stephen King book. As you said, you're retired (as am I), thank goodness. "But I didn't give up trying." That's all we can do my friend. We have to stick it out for the long haul. I'm afraid this mess is going to be with us for a long time, possibly through 2022 if not beyond.
  17. Emma

    Breast form hilarity

    Important safety tip!
  18. @MonicaPz: Better late than never: absolutely! @ScottishDeeDee: Fear of rejection has always been and is still a big issue for me. I will say that my coming into my own authenticity is giving me emotionally stability, calmness, and reducing such fears. When we use the word "transition" we generally think about transitioning from our born gender to another. From my side of that journey I see that transition is lots more, mostly revolving about growing away from those habits, thinking and otherwise, of trying to fit in to the mold we were expected to fit. It's fair to say that everyone has self doubts and self consciousness. But for people like us I think the burden is much greater. I suggest reading Glennon's book and see what comes up for you. Maybe that would provide things to write about in your blog. I'd love to read your posts.
  19. I started reading "Untamed" by Glennon Doyle a couple of days ago. She's putting into words so much of what I know in my deepest recesses to be true for me but have been unable to vocalize. She's not trans, she's a "late in life lesbian, about 45. She writes about how women—especially—are trained from a young age to fit into society's expectations and largely, to passively accept the limitation of their true selves to fit those molds. As trans people we all share this, don't we? Since 4 or 5 years old I struggled so hard to be what I was supposed to be. Such a mess, so much depression, shame and loss. "... good enough is what makes people drink too much and snark too much and become bitter and sick and live in quiet desperation until they lie on their deathbed and wonder: What kind of life/relationship/family/world might I have been if I'd been braver? The building of the true and beautiful means the destruction of the good enough. Rebirth means death. Once a truer, more beautiful vision is born inside of us, life is in the direction of that vision. Holding on to what is no longer true enough is not safe; it's the riskiest move because it is the certain death of everything that was meant to be. We are alive only to the degree to which we are willing to be annihilated. Our next life will always cost us this one. If we are truly alive, we are constantly losing who we just were, what we just built, what we just believed, what we just knew to be true." Of course we're all fearful of losing what we have despite our sacrifices to maintain that "good enough" life. And it's not all about being trans, determining what that means for each of us, and following our gender journeys. It's about learning to listen to our deepest feelings and acting on them. We really do only have this one life to live. Will you accept good enough?
  20. Goodness, BA, I’m sorry. That must be miserable. Like Dee, I don’t think of you as damaged at all. You’re a friend in a horrible situation just trying to make the best of it.
  21. Mike and I are working on an issue where, for some reason, comments on some blog posts aren't included in the list in the POSTS area on the Forums home page. Thus far, no joy, but the first step is to reproduce the problem! Regardless, it's nice to hear from you and I hope you're well. The Coronavirus thing is spawning a fair amount of anxiety here in the Seattle area. Life continues to go on of course but I'm checking myself several times a day for feelings of a cold or flu coming on. So far so good, thank goodness. Late last week I made a quick trip to Chicago for a last electrolysis learning of my face and neck. I'm grateful I was able to make the trip although like everyone I'm sure I was concerned about hanging out in the airport, the plane, and so forth. How are you? How're things in Scotland?
  22. Learning curve... what? Now, almost six years after I started contemplating whether I am trans, I am a woman in most ways except, perhaps, to myself. I have several very good cis women friends whom I love and love me. When we talk about my struggles they reassure me that I am clearly a woman to them. My speech, my mannerisms, certainly my clothing, all speak to the truth of me authentic gender. So what's the struggle? Why am I writing? When I get dressed to go out I always consider will the outfit look nice and appropriate, warm or cool enough, water resistant if it's rainy, that sort of thing. But when I think about wearing a dress or skirt, is it okay for me to wear such a thing, especially if it's warm and I can't wear leggings underneath. I generally don't let those worries hold me back. Appropriateness is the order of the day and after that, well, I just get dressed. Like yesterday I needed to make a run to the local big box hardware store. I had been wearing paint-spattered Levi's and an equally crappy tee shirt while working in my basement. Men go to such stores without changing all the time. But women? Not so much. It was chilly so I wore a kind-of sweater dress, black leggings, black booties, lipstick, and threw on my bright red raincoat. No one at the store commented or noticed me unless they were out of eyesight. In the store, though, I was a fish out of water, clearly a woman shopping in the tool section. How am I supposed to be when dating? I have a non-binary cis-woman girlfriend which is fun and all but I struggle waiting for her to take the initiative when it comes to most anything such as hand holding or kissing. From time to time I go ahead and make a move. Sure, that's how I was socialized. When I attend my ballet class and see myself in the mirror with the other women I can't help but see my broad(er) shoulders and height. Everyone is wonderful to me and I'm wonderful to them. And let's face it, they're no spring chickens either. Still... I guess the bottom line is that I'm only gradually knowing within my being and heart that I am a woman, plan and simple, just going about her life like any other woman. The learning curve is steep but I remain so grateful to be on it. Maybe (probably) I'll aways have some nagging doubts, worries, that sort of thing. But there it is.
  23. Emma

    My New Queer Life

    Hi Rachel, I just now realized you'd made this post. I downloaded your story—which is excellent and sounds so familiar to me. I hope you'll post more hear but in the future I'd recommend not in a Word file. For one reason, I was concerned about infecting my laptop with some virus. Perhaps the more important one is that adding this additional step to accessing your writing seems to be off-putting to many. I see there have been about 30 "looks" at this page but only 5 downloads. Here's a quote from your doc: Am I the only one who feels like this? Did I miss the queer crusade that I should have been on when I was younger, fighting alongside those other trans-pioneers? I feel like I have missed so much in my life that I can never make up for. The sixty-year silence in my closet was deafening. The walls were screaming at me, but I never heard them. You're certainly not the only one who feels (or has felt) like this. I'm 63 now and started my transition almost three years ago as my wife of 20 years and I began divorce mediation. It was only three years before that when I started to finally work on discovering my authentic self which ended up with my determining that I am trans. All of these years have been tough, especially the last three until roughly 6 months ago. Transition is hard and scary. Divorce, and that feeling that one may never fit in with friends or a new romance is very lonely and scary too. I'm also a trans lesbian and found a group of women on Meetup from which we now have about 8 close friends. We do all sorts of things, mostly hiking, potlucks, game nights. They've been incredibly supportive. One even flew out to Scottsdale a year ago to spend several days with me after my GCS. I mentioned that transition is scary and hard. For one thing determining where one is on the trans spectrum is scary. I had no idea when I started that I'd end up where I'm sitting now, basically like any other woman. But I love it. As I wrote on my blog this morning my being consistently gendered correctly is so fabulous. I feel so lucky and grateful. Yes, we both missed a lot in the last ~60 years by not being born female. That sucks so much and yet as you wrote there's nothing we can do about it now. It can be hard to let that go and we probably never will. Overall, though, it's so much fun and energizing to be living life to the fullest. Emma
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