The End of a Dream

Today, I am in pain. I hurt to the core of my being because a dream I held of being held, of being loved and nurtured, as I try to love and nurture others, is dead.

I knew that things were headed this way. The signs have been clear for some time. But I still hoped that somehow, if I just loved enough, that could be changed. It didn’t happen that way, however, and I am sad.

Things started off with so much promise, so much hope. I felt so loved and cared for. But what I hoped was only the beginning was really the end. Not of everything, not of the friendship we have and the respect and admiration we hold for each other for the people that we are, but, certainly, the end of the something “more” that I thought began that extended weekend of connection.

So, today, I am sad. I sit and meditate, pray and read A Course in Miracles for the hope that it has restored to my life. And I cry.

Life will go on. From this, something new and greater will come. I know, because that is who I am and that is path I have chosen for my life. And it’s hard, it’s extremely hard. The rewards are incredible, but, sometimes, many times, I wish my life was simple, that my life was easy, that I didn’t feel so deeply, that I didn’t have to dig so deep to understand the truth of who I am and how the world works, how we are all connected in the truest and most fundamental sense. Sometimes, it’s simply too much … for myself and for others.

My friend Callie talks about how hard it is being a “too person” – too intense, too emotional, compelled to seek the answers to the hard questions that most people don’t even want to ask. I know exactly what she means.

And, yet, I know I will carry on. I know that this is my path. I just wish that the price of all the rewards I have found in my life – the peace, the joy, the comfort in knowing who I am – was something other than being alone.

Advertisement

Read Full Post »

Thoughts on Change and Choices – and Much, Much More

Yesterday, my friend Callie wrote about the need for change in her life and came to the conclusion that only the “atomic option,” i.e. exploding the status quo that those around her seek to impose, is likely to work for her. I had a pretty powerful reaction to that idea, and wrote her a long comment, which is pasted below, in response. I know that much of what I wrote is about me, not her, and, in fact, directly relates to our discussions about the delusion of the necessity for sacrifice to get what we need during my Course in Miracles study group yesterday morning. (If you want to see what prompted those discussions, read the section called “The Time of Rebirth” in Chapter 15 of the Text of A Course in Miracles, which appears on p. 324 of the second edition, or, in ACIM speak, you can find it at T:15:X (or Text, Ch. 15, Sec. X).) But I also had a lot of other things going on yesterday, all of which led to one of the most emotional days I’ve had in a long time.

Read Full Post »

Trans and Proud

Beginning in the fall of 2006, as I began to plan for my transition and think about what the future as Abby would be like, I always felt fear when I thought of those moments in public when people would realize that I am transgender or transsexual (I use both terms depending on the situation). I felt that same fear when I went out in public as Abby, watching carefully for disapproving glances and listening for rude remarks everywhere I went. As time passed and I didn’t see those glances or hear those remarks, I began to believe that I could live in this world as Abby without “being detected,” in other words, I thought I could “pass” without notice. As that belief grew, I became more and more confident in myself and more and more comfortable with my decision to transition. When I finally transitioned, my fear of being “clocked” as transgender was as great as ever, but, based on my experience, I believed that the risks of that actually happening were tiny, if not nonexistent. Without that belief and the concomitant belief that I could escape the shaming, harassment and even violence that is often the experience of my trans sisters and brothers, I doubt I would have transitioned.

A very curious thing has happened since then, however. Beginning only two or three months after my transition (on May 14, 2007), I began to realize that I am proud of who I am and of the many challenges and the tremendous pain that I overcame to learn the truth about myself and have the courage to live that truth as I do today. Today, I don’t bring up the fact that I am trans with most people. However, when it’s relevant or the moment can be used to teach about trans people, especially that we’re not freaks or perverts but people not so different than most, simply striving to live in peace and with a modicum of happiness, I am willing, and I do, tell people about my past. Yes, I still feel a tinge of fear each time I tell someone for the first time but I have never yet allowed that fear to stop me from revealing the truth of who I am, and I hope I never do. Considering the fear with which I began this journey, I am constantly amazed at the comfort that I feel with the knowledge that I am trans and my willingness to share that information with others whenever and wherever it might help to create greater understanding and acceptance of trans people.

Read Full Post »