To stand or not to stand

Pulled from the pages of my written journal

Last week, I had a rug thrown over my head. Well, I thought I did. Amber and I were with Claire in the city and headed to dinner. As we stepped out of Amber’s car, Claire hears some of her coworkers yell her name from across the street. Claire asked us to hold on for a minute before crossing the street to the restaurant so we didn’t have to deal with them. At first I thought Claire didn’t want to be seen with us since her coworkers don’t know that she’s T, but she says it’s because one of the guys is a dickhead. Either way, it made me wonder about the decision to be functionally stealth – where no one basically knows. I left one closet, why go back into another? But if you think about it, it’s not a new closet, but a new world. It made me think, “Do I really want to be labeled a T all of my life? Does it matter what others think of me as long as I am treated equal and respected as a person? Can I ‘disappear?’ Do I want to ‘disappear’?”

I mean, right now, obviously all of my friends and coworkers know about my journey because....well.....I did it right in front of their faces. Will I always be the boy who became a “girl?” Will they always see that remnant of who I used to be to them? Will I always be the boy in a dress? Where do I go? What do I do? Is it important for me that my friends not know my past so that it doesn’t influence what they say and do around me? Does it matter? At this point in my life, I really don’t care, as long as I’m not disrespected.

So, anyway, I’m on another flight – this one to Chicago. It’s a small vacation to hang out with some friends from this one Generation X and Y TS forum.

I just finished watching the in-flight movie, Welcome to Mooseport. It was a cute little movie, and one of the friendlier movies that Gene Hackman has been in for a while. After the movie, I had to go. They had three or four movies on this flight, and at least three of them all finished about the same time. With that unfortunate timing, there was a line for the lavatories. Once into the lavatory, I did the usual wipe-down of the seat, and there was a bit of yuckiness in the back. OK, so when I run into not so clean single stall bathrooms, the debate then becomes whether or not to stand. I mean, I still have about 8+ months that it will still be there – why not use it? The bad part, though, is that the person after me could think that I was the one that left the messy seat. So, yes, I stood in the lavatory. Hey, it’s one of the perks for now, OK? When I’m at home, I usually sit, unless I’m in a rush of some sort. I’ve found, though, that it’s easier to get a more comfortable tuck from the sitting position. OK, so when I am in a public restroom, though, I always sit, no matter what. But if it’s a gross seat in a private setting, I’ll definitely reserve the right to stand. Well, for a little while longer, that is.

A T friend has been discussing a little more of her upcoming SRS journey lately. It makes me ponder my own journey set for early next year. I try to imagine things after surgery to get an idea about how I will react, feel, think, live, breath, and be. How will I be? I know pants and underwear will fit a lot better. Yeah, I can still laugh about it, but at this time, it’s still hard to imagine actually being post-op. I’m going with my friend to help take care of her, as well as to hang out and keep her company. I asked her how she felt about all of it as we drove into the city last week. She said she hadn’t really thought about it, that is, until I asked her. For me, SRS is the only option to a fulfilling life. It’s too hard tucking all of the time. It’s also hard to be in a relationship with it. Yeah, I’m sure “chasers” and a few “lesbians” might like it, but it’s still not me, and it's a huge part of the GID. Plus, I’ll be able to stop taking the spironolactone at that time since there won’t be a need to block the testosterone anymore once the testes are gone. The bad part about all of this, though, and I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, is that it just becomes a vaginal opening. There’s no uterus, no ovaries, no tubes, - no girl - just an inverted boy part. Some girl, huh? Well, I’d rather be an inverted sorta-girl than have Junior. Since I still like girls a little more than boys, though, holding on to Junior is the only benefit in that case. But in the end, having SRS is the only way at getting rid of more of the GID.

It’s funny, but when I see myself in the mirror now, I’m much happier. It’s only been basically three months in a decent presentation, but in that short time I’ve reached an incredible peace with myself. The GID isn’t as “bang-bang-in-your-face” anymore. What’s even more amazing is looking back at old pictures. Yeah, that was my external appearance at the time, but, wow, I can’t imagine going back. I fit back into society now, I just want to fit back into having a life.

OK, well, we’re getting close to landing. It’s sort of a homecoming being back in the Midwest, but of course, I don’t know if the Midwest will ever be my home again.