Cyclical Meanderings........... part 5

Just realized that it's been eleven months since I started my hormone treatments. My first pill and patch were taken and applied on the 27th of March 2013. I guess I was going to write something like this at the one year mark, probably will anyways, but well, a lot can happen in eleven months.

A lot has happened in eleven months.....

It's as if I've lived more over this relatively tiny period of time, less than 3% of my overall life, than I have up to this point.

When I started my treatments, I was hoping life would improve, I knew that my life as I knew it was going to end, not just my marriage and the story that I had been struggling for for so long, but that everything would change. At the same time, I was so terrified that I would slip into the same depressed, angry, empty life that I had been living up to that point, just this time as a woman, or at least the best approximation of one that I could be, or thought I was.

That hasn't happened

Even when I was going through some form of depression at the end of last year, the months in which I wasn't writing, it was difficult, it really was, the pain in my back was holding me down, and at the same time I was letting the pain hold me down, I'm accustomed to avoiding life due to pain, and it risked becoming a vicious downwards spiral. Even with all that, I was still more alive than when I was him. I could still smile at myself in the mirror in the mornings, forcing myself to actually live wasn't as difficult, and it was easier to forget that everything had crumbled not so long ago. All things considered, I was still doing pretty good, I just didn't really see it at the time.

Like winters often do, they slow life down, and the almost fantasy book life that I had been living during the summer ground to a halt. I don't think I was entirely expecting that, and I definitely wasn't ready for it.

I met countless people last year, realized that I was in love with my best friend, yet once the cold came, I felt alone, he wasn't really there for me anymore, and so many people that I connected with just shrunk into their own shells. I had become dependent upon them without realizing it, counting on them to help me feel the joy that was so easy to find during the warm months.

But through the cold, and the snow, I realized that I did have a couple of people that remained, our connection was strong and still is, and I count these girls as my best friends, and they feel the same about me. We can talk about anything, they have supported me over the past week as I dealt with the loss of my first love, as I have supported them over the past year when they needed it and reached out.

I also began to realize that I had the most important person that anyone could have, which was myself. Even if you are married for decades, the first person you need to be able to count on is you, anything else isn't fair to those that support you.

Feeling like I had lost so many people made me forget that the ones that counted were still there. Even though pretty much anyone can feel comfortable and open up around me, it doesn't mean that we will continue along our paths together, it just means that we connected, our lines came close for a brief flash, and then drifted apart again, both of us, hopefully, the better for it.

But I made it through the first part of the winter, re-grounded myself, and as the dreaded holiday season approached, I began to find companionship. A man who is still my occasional lover, a new friend who introduced me to the one who would become my first love, or perhaps I should move into the third person briefly and say Dawn's first love, I don't want to lessen the experiences I've had with the women I've loved in the past, it was all real, but right now, the way I feel about it, he was *my* first love, not just another love of mine.

I notice now that I began to live another fantasy with him, one in which I ignored the bad so that I didn't have to work on it, and only focused on the good, and one that he encouraged with his behaviour. I saw a future, I saw possibilities, and he did as well for a time, but like everything that burns too hot, and burns from a source that is still wounded, it flared out. Another line crossing mine, twisting around it for a short period of time, tightly, intimately then poof..... gone.

But I've beat that horse to death already, and it has ended, and I'm moving on.

I had started to live for myself though, even before he showed up, thankfully my depression did not lift due to meeting these new people who I would share my heart and my bed with, otherwise, losing him would have been far worse than it was. The strength was coming from within me, not from without. Before my previous birthday the clouds had begun to lift, and now, three months later, the clouds are still at bay, they darken my life from time to time, but my spirit can push them away. As I wrote earlier in one of my Synchronicity posts, when you open yourself up to the possibility of new experiences, they will begin to present themselves.

You still have to go for it though....

I changed my look, I finally got the courage to get my tattoo, I began to open up sexually, I took risks, chances, and like always happens for me, I was rewarded. I've experienced hope, love, passion, countless orgasms, a tantric experience, sexual experiences that for me had always remained in the realm of fantasy, lovers, friends, connections, but of course, pain and loss and fear and anxiety, but without the risk of these things, there is no chance for true joy.

It's also getting harder and harder to see him in the mirror. The only time where he shows up, and no longer every day, is when I get out of the shower, my hair slicked back over my head, face scrubbed clean, the still-kinda-male receeding hairline clear as day (at least it's not getting worse!), but then I smile, and I am back, the true me is back.

I get dressed, and look at myself in the mirror in my bra and underwear, and I'm stunned at the woman I see, she is so beautiful, and when I'm fully naked with a lover, I still feel just as beautiful, no shame, no fear, just joy.

I've enjoyed time on my own, twice now, the only times in my life when I was capable of doing so. Fear and apprehension gripped me as I set out, but only calm remained. Enjoying a coffee at Chapters reading, eating a great meal alone, seeing a concert and headbanging like I used to when I was kid, completely alone, and it was joyful, beautiful.

I'm gaining my strength.

I've always looked to my partner to provide that calm for me, that base, that grounding. Once I had that, then I was free to do anything, but now, I'm finding that I can provide that for myself. We all need support, and love, and friendship, but if we can't stand on our own, smiling towards the future, sure of ourselves, no amount of support from others will ever be enough, it may get us through a day, or a rocky period, but eventually you will be alone, even if just for an hour or two before sleeping, and at those times, you need to be your own support. That is how I had lived my life in the past, and how I thought I was living with him, thinking the strength and peace I had was a gift from him, but I've realized that the strength is from within me. And this allows me to be a better healer for others, as well as allowing others to help heal me when I need it, and at the end of the day, I think that is what I am, a healer, a story teller, a confidant, and to me, that is an amazing gift.

As usual, I didn't know where this was going, but I think I need to stop here, still have lots to do to get ready for the kinky party tomorrow ;)

I'll leave you with my eleven month photo, I feel beautiful in it, and that's pretty awesome

Hindsight

A few days have passed, some anger remains, a touch of loneliness before bed and when I wake up, but overall, that's about it.

Good friends can make all the difference in the world. Some of them simply listen to you yell and cry, letting you put the pieces together and finding the lessons within them, and the comfort that you can show your deepest pain to a loved one and not have them look away. Some challenge you on your feelings, forcing you to re-evaluate the reality that you had constructed through eyes of clarity. They provide validation that your anger is justified; shared experiences showing that this happens to all us women at one point or another; realization that I've been guilty of the same mistakes in the past, without malice, just out of fear of causing pain to someone I deeply cared about and letting things continue past their due date.

As I stated in my previous post, my head was in the clouds, it really was. While my time spent with him was beautiful in so many ways that I have never experienced before, there were many occasions, situations, events, which caused me pain, caused me to feel less than, to feel like I wasn't there. His great mistake was to never talk about how he felt about us and where we were going before it was too late even though he always claimed he was happy, mine was similar, to not bring up the little things that irked me, that bothered me, that made me feel invisible.

Stupid thing was that my main intention when I went over to his place last Thursday was to talk about these very things. I had already thought of ending it all over the past couple weeks in all honesty over these smaller issues even though I felt love for him, or assuming they would be the cause of me to walk away from him eventually, but I realized that was just childish, one needs to talk about problems, not just run from them, and I thought our relationship was worth the work, worth the effort. This is also my first relationship as Dawn, stuffed to the gills with estrogen, feeling emotional about everything, I didn't want to be "that" chick who harps and picks on every tiny little imagined transgression, I didn't know where to draw the line, this is all so new that I chose to ignore them for too long.

But when I got there, he beat me to the "we need to talk" punch....

Probably better that way

A big aspect of the pain I felt was the newness of this relationship, as I've mentioned already, I felt things, experienced things, which I had never felt before in a relationship. The biggest aspect, and this may sound odd to some, was being able to sleep easily holding him. I've lived with two women already, and have slept with a few more (like actually slept, not just sex) and one big constant in my life is my difficulty in falling asleep. I would usually cuddle them until they passed out, then rolled across to the other side of the bed with absolutely no contact between us and spend the next hour lying there waiting for sleep. With him, on one of the first times I spent the night at his place, I actually fell asleep on him while we were trying to watch a movie on the couch. Almost each time we slept together I would be cuddling him and would pass out immediately with him in my arms.

This isn't the only example of new feelings, but for me, its the most poignant, the most meaningful, powerful.

I was being taken care of by a great friend Friday night, and this aspect of our relationship came into my head, and I broke down in tears, terrified that I would never feel that again, that sense of safety, that magical anxiety-free place where I can just drift into nothingness. Took me a lot of sobs to realize the truth behind the matter.

It wasn't him. He wasn't some magical amazing creature that could take my anxiety and fear away with a whisk of his hand.... quite the opposite, he caused me a great deal of anxiety in other ways

It was me

This is the first time I've really been with someone as who I actually am, and with someone who accepts who I am (not like he had a bloody choice). The comfort wasn't a gift from him, it was a gift from myself.

The realization of that was very powerful to me, and it spread to other aspects of our relationship which I had originally attributed to him being special, hence why I should overlook those negative aspects.

But in the end, he was a great guy in a bad place, and one of those not-able-to-talk-about-anything-serious types of people, which I know by now I simply can't have anything long term with, who treated me well (a little too well, I forgive him), and showed me some new sights and new ideas and some absolutely mind blowing sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

I felt the things I did not just because of him, but because of me, because for once in my silly little life I am ME.

And I will feel them again.

and the mind blowing tantric sexual healing session I had Saturday night showed me that I can enjoy the same safe, relaxed, anxiety free physical connection with another man.

It wasn't all him

It's within me

He helped me feel these things for the first time, but it didn't make him magical. He was nothing more than a first, and your first is always special in some ways, but at the end of the day, they're just another person getting through their own lives.

I'm moving on

Peace

Another ending, another fork

I fell in love with you because you treated me like gold, except when you weren't being distant and grouchy, which I now understand was you avoiding talking about things we should have been talking about.

I wish you hadn't shown me your family and travel albums so early, and let me into your private life so easily. That you hadn't shown me your childhood video's the day after you supposedly wanted to pull the reins on everything. I wish you had never mentioned taking me to Argentina one day, which you said less than a month after we had been seeing each other. That you hadn't told me I was being silly for asking if I could spend the night, that I should assume I'm always welcome. That you hadn't shown how caring and observant you were by getting me that yoga mat. That you hadn't kept saying that it sucked that we were so far apart because you wanted to see me all the time. That you hadn't given me your keys, christ I wish you had never done that so early, that's a huge step in any relationship and we obviously weren't ready for it. That you hadn't become so affectionate with your text messages at random times, you have no idea how much those lifted my heart, and when you disappeared and ignored my messages, how much it confused and hurt me. I wish that after I told you that i was in love with you that you were honest with me about how you felt, or at least not made love to me for three fucking hours while telling me how lucky and happy you felt to be with me while you were inside me. I wish you hadn't taken me to incredibly expensive restaurants. I wish you hadn't gotten me the absolute perfect Valentine's gift, all the while you were thinking of ending it, ending us.

I wish you had said "Dawn, I need time to think about everything, lets talk or lets take a weekend off OK?".... funny thing is I wasn't even going to see you this weekend, too busy.

To me, these are actions of someone who loves me, maybe not yet fully, maybe they don't know it yet, but this is love in action. I learned a long time ago not to pay too much attention to words but to listen to actions, and that is what you were telling me.

In the beginning I tried to never assume anything, that we were a full couple, that I was always welcome, that you wouldn't be there to miss me when I go on a business trip, and each time I voiced it you told me to stop being silly. If you were never sure, why lead me on?

When I told you I loved you, I knew this was soon for you, I knew you were still scared of me being nothing more than a rebound for you, but I was so completely OK, more than OK, I was happy, more happy than you realize at the way you responded to me, I was never expecting a giant "I love you too" back from you. I knew you weren't there yet, but I couldn't hold it in any more, I was getting sick from ignoring the way I felt, and I needed you to know, that's how I am, I can't hold things in, because every time I have in my life I have regretted it. I'm having a really hard time not blaming myself for the way this turned out, that I should have waited, that I should have backed off, but how could I?, how could I with the relationship that we had built together.

How could I not fall in love with you?

I'm further along the healing path than you are, and yes, I know what I want, or at least right now I think I do but for me, that's good enough, the only way to really find out if what you want is true is by living it, and doing it, and that's what I was doing. I love the routine, especially that what we had wasn't really a standard boring couples routine, hell, we only saw each other once or twice a week. We did our own thing, had our own interests, as well as our shared interests, we never got in each others way when one of us wanted to pursue our own things, or see our own friends, we never made each other feel guilty or less than for wanting to do things without our partner, those are the evil parts of routine, and I've lived them all, and I'll never live them again, and with you, those evil parts simply weren't an issue. But if you're going to be with someone long term, living with someone, etc, how can there not be a modicum of routine?, and since there will be, shouldn't it be comfortable and loving?

Out of all the decisions you could have made, I can't understand the one you chose, unless you're simply lying to me about having been as into me as you said and you've just been acting like you have been.... but I don't think you're that good of an actor, and I think I read you well..... I just don't always listen to what I read, yes, my head was in the clouds. I've never experienced a relationship like I did with you.

I wish you had had the balls to actually talk to me before you let it get to this point for you. You've broken my heart regardless, it would have been less if this was discussed earlier, and maybe something could have been salvaged.

I miss you, and for the time being, I still love you.

But I'll heal, and like I always do, I'll move on.

Chasers

In our world, and by that I mean the world, the reality, that trans people live within, there is a group of people called "chasers".... or "tranny chasers" if you want to be crude about it. Predominantly men (at least in my experience), who are attracted to pretty much only trans women, for whatever reasons they may have.

Now, the vast majority (again, in my experience) are fetishistic about us. They aren't interested in actually dating us, they don't want to take us home to meet their parents, they aren't willing to hold our hands while we walk through the city in broad daylight. They hang around tranny bars, eye-ing us as we chat with our friends, then try to awkwardly, and creepily, hit on us, hoping for a quick fuck.

And in all honesty, it grosses me out.

It makes me think of guys who are into *really* big women, they lust after them, want to fuck them, but they don't dare tell anyone about it. Their friends point and laugh at a fat chick and they go along with it, to appear normal, to appear like they are just like everyone else, but when they get home, or are lying in bed jerking off late at night, all they can think of is a great big woman with them. They fuck them in secret, then feel guilty about it, hate themselves. It's a closet like any other when you're attracted to a type of person that society deems "wrong" or "ugly" or "unfavorable"

And us trans women fit the same bill unfortunately for much of society.

So that's the majority of chasers, closeted men, ashamed of their desires, ashamed of what they are attracted to, not able to be honest about what they want... so when I meet someone who actually *is* open about their wants, who is confident enough to be with a woman like me openly and honestly, why does it still turn me off?

In a recent facebook post I briefly talked about this, my statement was that yes I happen to be a trans woman, but I don't want someone being attracted to me simply for that. I want them them to be attracted to me and not care about my trans status. A guy who is an open and honest chaser replied how is that different than someone being attracted to someone for their strength, or their intelligence, or their joie-de-vivre.

He did have a point, or at least I thought so at the time, I've let this whole thing stew in my head for a bit before sitting down to write it out.

Here's the way I look at it. Strength is a desirable aspect, because a person could just as easily be weak. Intelligence is a desirable aspect because a person could just as easily be an idiot. Being trans shouldn't be a desirable aspect because.... well.... it just is, its not an aspect of who the person is, it is simply what the person is. I could be a strong trans person or a weak trans person, a smart one or a stupid one, a happy one or a depressed one, but in all possibilities I am still trans.

Another parallel could be being only attracted to Asian woman, or Black women, you're not primarily attracted to *who* they are, but instead, *what* they are. I see traits such as strength, intelligence, positivity, as who someone is, not what someone is. When the *what* takes precedence over the *who*, that's where I begin to have a problem with the whole thing.

Someone I know and care for deeply used to be a very very big dude, he was happily married to a man for a good number of years, but at one point the big dude simply had to lose the weight, or die. Pretty cut and dry. He did it, worked hard, took care of himself, and dropped half of his body weight in a remarkably short period of time, and what happens?, his husband leaves him, he couldn't find him attractive anymore as a thin guy and couldn't stay married to him. As if *what* he was was more important than *who* he was. And that seriously pisses me off.

What if I ended up with an open and honest chaser, then did the surgery, then went stealth, would they no longer see me as a transsexual thus destroying their own fetishistic attraction to me?. 

If someone finds me attractive and wants to be with me, it has to be for who I am, not what I am. I don't want to be seen as an object, I want to be seen as a person who that person admires and respects. The fact that my history is a little different than most women, and that my body may be a little different than most women, well, I don't want that to matter. Our bodies all change over time, maybe I'll get bottom surgery one day, although right now I have zero interest in it, and if I do, I want the person who is with me to not care one way or another, and only care about the way that I feel about myself.

I want someone to date me, the woman, Dawn.... not Dawn the transsexual.... Dawn the chick "with a little extra"... just Dawn. Strong, intelligent, anxious, paranoid, obsessive, impulsive, creative, competitive, nerdy, fire spinning crazy woman that I am. I'm not a fetish, I'm a person.

and so far, so good

Cyclical Meanderings.......... part 4

A word caught inside my throat, spinning in my mind, sneaking out here and there

Unknown if it is caught, heard, noticed

......a feeling......

familiar, yet..... new in many ways

so many new feelings, experiences, some built on the old, some.... not

I can't always tell when a need is true, or manufactured.... part of truth.... or part of old expectations

why?

does the word want to appear due to insecurity?, due to wanting that illusion of control... no.... not control.... guarantee?, even though we all know nothing is guaranteed

I enjoy each day, each moment, as it should be

each moment is the only real thing there is in reality.... the past is history and the future is a mystery as they say

no matter the words said, the promises exchanged, it carries no guarantee, no certainty, those are all illusions, dreams, hopes to stay in the now, the now that is so beautiful

my now has changed so much in the past year, my certainties, the promises, the should-have-beens, all dashed against the rocks

so does it make sense for the word to surface?.... I know what is real right now, what will it do?.... I feel that word in every interaction, yet speaking it..... oh lord.... what will it bring with it?

yet it does surface, and it shall continue to do so

.... and once it is said..... which it eventually will be....

what will happen then?

but of course now, I am looking to a future I want, and again, how many of my wants are true, and how many are borne out of fear and a need to hold on to the now?, or even to recreate the path that I had struggled for for so long.... it's said that life is what happens while plans are being made and worked towards

I know how destructive living for the future can be.... been there, done that, doesn't work

but the word.....

oh...... wait.....

perhaps.....

just perhaps..... it doesn't need to carry anything more than the feeling that is the now. The now is the only real truth after all

yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, so if in the now, the word is true, then why not share it aside from the obvious fear that it will change the now, confuse the now, yet it is part of the now, in every touch, every look, every message

is it real

and I'm holding it in.... I should know better by now not to hold things in