Emma

Now, I suppose the title of this post may sound like I'm having a bad time but no, just the opposite. I came across these book covers recently - aren't they cool? I just love them. They bring up all kinds of thoughts and feelings for me. I'm going to look around eBay and elsewhere and see if I can get my hands on them. (Postscript: It's on Amazon for $2 (Kindle version. Yay!) But really, my life is going pretty well recently. I never thought I'd say this but the SSRI medication that the psychiatrist prescribed actually seems to be working. I was promised that "we have new ones" that would work better with fewer side effects. I wasn't a believer by any stretch having gone through so many trials and errors in the past. I've been on the medication for about four weeks and wow, I can tell that I'm much better than I was. It's a subtle thing - most of the time I don't even think about it, which is good. I don't want to even be aware of it. My wife and I are doing very well together, too. I'm sure we'll still have our ups and downs but maybe with the med I'll not go into a crashing end-it-all depression whenever she makes some comment that I misinterpret or can't deal with. It's seemed that way thus far so my confidence is building. Work. Well, not for much longer! We had a 1/3 of the company layoff two weeks ago and they asked me to stay for another four weeks to transition my responsibilities to others. Why not? An extra four weeks of pay. But really, it kinda sucks given that they don't know who to transition my work to, and the others in the company know I'm Dead Woman Walking. (Well, I guess they'd not refer to me as a woman but hey, it's MY blog!) Lest you be worried about my losing my job, please don't. I will likely just go into full time retirement. Which is kind of scary in that I've spent the last four decades using the busy-ness of work and my rather strong work-ethic (thanks Dad!) to avoid some things and to feel needed. As an old friend once said many years ago, I get a lot of emotional groceries by staying busy. A lot of satisfaction too. But I have some things to look forward to. I recently looked on Amazon for Julia Cameron's book "The Artist's Way" which I was thinking about re-reading. If you haven't read it and are looking for any kind of inspiration - it's a gem. Really. But you know what? Just one month ago she published a new book: "It's Never Too Late to Begin Again: Discovering Creativity and Meaning at Midlife and Beyond." How cool is that? I'm hoping off buying it until I'm truly unemployed. I don't want to spoil the treat. I also signed up for a one-day class at Stanford, "Happiness: Gumption, Gratitude, and Grace" which my therapist suggested. Looks like it will be interesting. Who knows what lies there or what will come up? I am looking forward to exploring further. There's more, of course. My wife wants me to build a tiny house for her in our backyard as a kind of retreat space. Not that we have a very large lot... pretty much no one does in the Bay Area. I was initially concerned that she plans on moving into that little house but no, she doesn't. Heck, maybe we can have sleepovers. That'd be fun. So it's all good, my friends. Emma

Ren, Veronica says it all, so well, and I'm not at all sure I can add more but I'll try. First, I'm sorry to hear you're in such anguish. It's horrible to feel that way, I really know, first hand. And, when we experience that pain it's so hard to even move, let alone dream that someone cares, or that we'll ever be out of that pain. Obviously I don't know you're situation in detail but I do recall your boyfriend, your sister, and probably others, do truly care for you. We do here as well. So keep talking, writing, and pounding your keyboard. But it is important to move forward even the tiniest fraction every day. Progress, no matter how small, begets progress. It feeds on itself and feeds our soul. I can't tell you what to do and there may not be a clear path that has certain success. All too often I see people struggle when they can't be certain that a course of action will produce results, or provide those results quickly. So they stay stuck. But the fact is that we can't predict the future. And we can't know the options and paths that will open up to us as we move forward. That's the adventure, my friend. It's like exploring a forest or a new territory. You march through the trees, turn, and a beautiful meadow appears. But then, you see a bear in the distance and turn in an alternative path. On and on. I know you can do it. You're strong, forthright, and brave. Love, Emma

I'm happy for you, that you had such a blast, and that your so pooped. That's a good thing. My wife and I met for a beer ( okay, I had two!) and, isn't it wonderful to feel good about each other? We did, and I can tell you did too. Best wishes to you both. Emma

Happy anniversary of your first date. I wish you both have a great day, too!

Like our friend, Michael (Usernameoptional) advised: keep pounding it out on your keyboard. I think what you write makes a lot of sense. Good on you to know what you're feeling so you can write about it. Keep it up. Emma

Dear Leo, I think you're awesome. I love your photo and am happy to have you as part of our community. Hugs, Emma

I am always so amazed to hear how some people can be so deceitful and treat others so poorly. And, I can also well imagine how much you would want that relationship to work out. Most of us need a tender connection, a partner. So we keep allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. I think that is in our human nature. But it can sure be painful. I'm sorry to read your post Monica, but I'm glad to hear from you. Emma

Interesting metaphor. I tend to prefer thinking of myself as a butterfly emerging from her chrysalis, free to fly among the flowers.

I came across something you may appreciate on Joanna Santos' blog: Musings from my everyday life...

Behind Blue Eyes Pete Townshend, The Who, 1971, from the album “Who’s Next” No one knows what it's like To be the bad man To be the sad man Behind blue eyes No one knows what it's like To be hated To be fated To telling only lies But my dreams They aren't as empty As my conscience seems to be I have hours, only lonely My love is vengeance That's never free No one knows what it's like To feel these feelings Like I do And I blame you No one bites back as hard On their anger None of my pain and woe Can show through But my dreams They aren't as empty As my conscience seems to be I have hours, only lonely My love is vengeance That's never free When my fist clenches, crack it open Before I use it and lose my cool When I smile, tell me some bad news Before I laugh and act like a fool And if I swallow anything evil Put your finger down my throat And if I shiver, please give me a blanket Keep me warm, let me wear your coat No one knows what it's like To be the bad man To be the sad man Behind blue eyes No, I don’t have blue eyes although I wish I did. “Blue eyes” came up recently when my wife and I met with our therapist. I said to her that I’m normal, like anyone who is left-handed or has blue eyes. Sure, part of a smaller segment of the population but normal nonetheless. Our therapist then said that although she loves me deeply that she might not be physically attracted to someone with blue eyes. Later, privately, she told me that she’s fearful that indeed, blue eyes may be a turn-off for her. Worse, she worries that she might find herself drawn to someone who doesn't have blue eyes. I understand what she’s saying. But it does hurt. And worry. I just have to trust that we will work it out. P.S. I don’t mean to brag here but I just have to share… I saw The Who in the summer of 1972 at the San Francisco Civic Auditorium during their Who’s Next tour. My friends and I had fantastic seats about 20 rows back from center stage. The music was so loud that it felt like blood was trickling from my ears but of course it was not. Such fantastic memories of Roger Daltry whipping his mic high into the air only to catch it perfectly in time with the beat from Pete Townshend’s guitar and Keith Moon’s drums. I was 16 and had driven the family station wagon about 50 miles from the South Bay. The previous evening my father asked if I knew how to get there, and of course, I hadn’t thought of that. Together we looked at a map to plot a course. We made it to and from okay but also remember feeling so disoriented and scared trying to find my way back to the 101 freeway after the show.

Hi Bree, No, I don't get the sense at all that Nikki is bad in any way whatsoever, and I'm glad you asked to confirm. I share (and so does my wife) the "chaos in your head" that comes from all this. I think that is a common denominator for both the trans person and partner albeit of course experienced very differently. I've read and said this before that we transgender people need to have patience and support our partners. Unlike us they have not lived with and likely explored and considered so much about gender for perhaps most of their lives. From our (trans) side, after we come out we're kind of in a euphoric state of unburdening but also of deep sensitivity and worry about rejection that mirrors our partner's uncertainties and worries both for us and justifiably for themselves. So we all need to communicate as much as we can in loving and caring ways. The communication is vital, I'm sure of that. But also vital is at times stepping back, taking a nap or a drive, to take a break. Emma

Dear Bree, You write so well, so articulately, and with such emotional expression. I do understand what you're saying and I wish Nikki did too. Maybe she does and maybe she's dealing with so much crashing down on her shoulders that she is truly doing the best she can. I think that is quite likely. Do something for yourself. Take the car out, go drive and see the scenery, or have a picnic by a quiet stream. Or cry on the shoulder of a friend. You and Nikki are perfect for each other and need each other. Some day this will all seem so small. And keep writing and letting it out. It's good to hear from you, Bree. Hugs, Emma

Yay! Good for you, Chrissy! I'm very happy for you. Emma

Chrissy, Good on you, girl. Good on you. Emma

How many times have I apologized to my wife? Countless. She shares your feelings I'm sure. She tries to be here for me. Most nights we watch a Seinfeld episode before I go to bed. Never fails to get a laugh out of me. You're terrific, Bree, Nikki is so lucky to be married to you. Emma

Hey Warren, It does suck, I'm sorry too. I do truly know how much it doesn't feel worth it anymore. You have your boyfriend? Have him give you a hug. But if it comes to it, please call a hotline. You're cool, we love you, and accept you always. No matter what you do or what you say. Emma

I agree with Mike's sentiment, that she may very well accept you now. She might not, and I truly know how scary and devastating contemplating that can be. Please don't take this badly, but 24? Goodness! I wish I had come as far as you at... 40! Or 50! Live your life, my friend.

Yeah, I know how you feel. I pretty much do the same thing.

I tried that, once, with my wife. I wrote a rather long letter that I thought "covered all the bases" and upon reading it she'd understand my situation, have compassion, and be fully accepting. Not. It was a disaster. Too much information, too quickly, without warning. Don't forget, you've been living with this gender uncertainty and later, knowledge, your whole life. Cisgender people might consider their gender at times but not nearly as seriously. Honestly, I don't think most of them get it. My suggestion is to tell one or two, separately, verbally, and in private. Face-to-face is best so you can each see each other's body language and modulate the discussion accordingly. The good news is that you've done your research and know what you want to say - in your letter. So you're prepared. But don't expect instant acceptance and "good for you" all around. Your friends and family love you and want what's best for you. They may think that trying to steer you away from being transgender is the right thing to do. So, be patient, gentle, and stay calm. Hugs, Emma

Hi Bree, No problem about deleting my reply! And, like you, I love purple. In fact, I'm going to use it myself here and now. I'm glad that you're not contemplating hurting yourself. Please read carefully what Veronica and Monica wrote. They both have a lot of wisdom. BTW, I was not happy to read that people have said you have an "addictive personality." I think that is nonsense. Sure, you might be addicted to something and need to work on that. But having a "type" of personality like that? I hate labels, I really do. Especially when it's from people who likely don't know what they are talking about or what you are experiencing. If you only knew what's been said about me over the years: "You're too sensitive." Okay, well thanks very much. Now, what am I supposed to do with that? Veronica's correct: it's often a defense mechanism that we use to protect ourselves by closing ourselves off. And that defense is learned in our amygdala way back when we are small children, and triggers a fight or flight response. If you're like me, it's all flight and withdraw, and then, I turn those feelings on myself. Over and over again. Who wouldn't be depressed in such a situation? It's hard to break those patterns, I'm working on it. But that's especially when we need help from our therapist(s) and hopefully, spouses. With respect to being more open with your wife, I was lucky in that my therapist agreed to seeing the two of us. There were certain conditions in that he didn't want to play favorites or have her feel like he was only there for me. It was fantastic as, gradually, I was able to tell her what was and is going on for me in a much safer environment. It is stressful and emotional, but I really could not do it without his help. So that's an idea. Warm hugs, Emma

I'm sorry to hear more about your cat. Goodness knows, we love our cats too. And we have several boxes, too. I think of them and miss them. Not the one we have now, who only loves my wife! She's no fun, at least for me. But for you, I hope you'll feel better soon. I know you know this, but these feelings will pass and you'll have fond memories. All animals touch us. Most people do, too.

"Be free and allow the world to love you the way we deserve to be loved." More perfect words are rarely said or heard. Back atcha Michele. Back atcha. Hugs, Emma

Fudge is indeed, magical. Go for it, girlfriend! In moderation, of course.

Dear Bree, You are a strong, wise, and beautiful woman, and your feelings are all understandable. Nikki is going through a rough patch too. It'd be easy to say he should be nicer to you but, believe me, my wife and I alternate on that too. It's okay to be a turtle, tortoise, or like me, a kitty. Just be yourself and you'll be fine. Like a woman friend suggests, when times get tough... take a nap. Hugs, Emma

Bree and Nicki, I echo Veronica and Stephanie's support and love. Amazing how those little furry things get under our skins, isn't it? We lost a dear kitty last year. I used to love the way she'd jump on my bed, walk up my chest, and gently bump her head on my chin. Really made me feel special, I'll tell you that! I also hope you find some relief from wearing the corset. Maybe in the context of your needing spinal and core support calling it a "corset" is a misnomer. That word brings up connotations (Victorians, fetish play, etc.) that are so unrelated. Think of it as a big Ace Bandage and give it a try. Sure might help you, I hope. Hugs, Emma