Synchronicity made all the connections.... but is there such a thing even?.... is it simply the human urge to find patterns out of chaos in the end?.... maybe, but does that make it less real?, ultimately we create our realities in which we exist.
When I broke up with Becca I still wanted to maintain a connection, a possible friendship.
When he broke up with me, he claimed the same thing
She could not, would not, was not able to
Neither was I, or should I say, am I; In fact, last week while talking with the one mutual friend we have (the one who started it all), when this was brought up, I cried, something I hadn't done for a good couple weeks at that point. It surprised me.
At the time when I was trying to maintain a contact with her, I didn't realize how much those attempts hurt her, and why she needed to break all little lines of contact, FB, android games, etc
Yet now I understand, as I had to do the same thing, and I felt the hurt at the attempts put towards me
I still maintain guilt over what Becca went through... from what I understand he feels sorry and guilty for the hurt that I'm going through....
I saw our split as necessary, transition or not, she did not, even though she is the one who ended it in reality, if I hadn't started my meds she would have hung on, even though I knew it wasn't the right fit for me, old me, or new me.... he realized the same thing
A couple weeks ago, the Saturday after my break up, on the way to see a buddy, Becca and I crossed paths.... well.... drove by each other. But as I along with a family of four with two little ones were blocking the road, she was pulled over waiting to pass, and saw me far before I noticed her. As we drove past each other, I looked at her, she kept her eyes straight on the road. She looked the same way she did the last time I saw her, on D day, stone faced, pained, hurt in her eyes. My guilt returned, sadness for her, for what I 'did' to her. She has to let go of all of that to be able to really move on.
While exploring my new neighborhood today, walking on St Denis, I see him up ahead of me, coming towards me. I can never be 100% certain that it was him, it's cold, everyone is bundled up, I haven't seen him shaved since the end of December, and he was wearing sunglasses, but I'm so sure it was. The jacket, the glasses, brown cords, satchel, ambling gait, hunched over, all right for him, and once I made the decision that yes, this was him, I just put my eyes to the sidewalk in front of me and kept going. I don't know if he looked at me, or turned towards me, after that decision, I never actually saw him again, I just heard him pass and knew that I could lift my head. I wanted to turn back and look, to make sure, to see him once again, but I didn't. I kept going. This was my neighborhood now.
And as I walked, I decided to visit my tree and see how long it would take me to get to my new place from there. So I did. And walking down Mont Royal, a street that prior to dating him, I had walked maybe three times in the past 20 years, I began to make it my own. I had walked this street with him, or because I was at his place while he was out, countless times, and in my heart it had become our area, the park was mine, but this corner, this chunk of the city, was ours. Today I began to smile as I walked it, spent some time in a used CD store and picked up four albums surprisingly (I never find anything in these places usually), made that place mine, turned his corner heading towards the park, and remembered all the times I had gotten smokes at the dep on his corner, and how on the other corner is the closest branch of my bank so I'll be going there often, and I smiled. I got to my tree and instead of resting against it like I had planned, I took pictures, finding different angles to show different aspects of my tree, here and there, it was fun. I timed my walk back, somewhat apprehensive at the idea of running into him again, but it didn't happen, and it turns out it took me 19 minutes to get one block away from the condo. Not bad, I'll be getting my exercise this year, and I need a non leather purse so I don't have to care about that when I walk back in the rain.
So the neighborhood that was ours, will slowly, day by day, walk by walk, become simply mine. Sure it's his as well, and will remain to be so until the day he moves away, but it's mine as well.
While this neighborhood that I currently am living in isn't Becca's, in that she doesn't live here, it was definitely ours. By the time I had bought the house, Becca and I were serious, and for me it was almost ours the entire time that I've been here minus the past year. Since her cousins still live across the street and I don't see moving any time soon, she will continue to spend time here. I hope she can remove me from the equation of this neighborhood, so it's just her cousins place, not my old place, or our old place.
What I've gone through due to my ex, has been awful, and can still be difficult, yet it was a short and passionate relationship. I can only imagine what Becca is going through, or hopefully, has completed going through
I got it from both directions, and it sucks, but you know what, it's not going to hold me back anymore
Love is worth it
Sunday, 16 March 2014
Tuesday, 11 March 2014
Still angry it seems.....
This is going to be more of a rant than anything....
Yes I'm doing good overall, no I'm not terribly worried about not finding a new partner in the long run, and no, I'm not interested in doing any serious dating right now, more interested in doing some serious fucking
but he still jumps into my head too goddamned often
I can't even enjoy some personal sexual time without him popping into my head and fucking it all up, and with the cold that I got nailed with last week, I haven't had any intimacy in going on 3 weeks. The tantric experience, while wonderful, didn't scratch that very specific itch, and the kinky party which gave me (and a shit-ton of others) a cold was more of a tease than anything else.....
if he appeared in front of me, I'd fucking bitch-slap him, he deserves it
perhaps he's in my head cause it's his birthday today, and I had wanted to make that day special for him, and I knew the gift I wanted to get him, but I'm no longer part of the picture.... dunno.... but last week was easier than this week has been, and I don't understand why
the relationship only lasted eight or nine weeks for fucks sake, and it ended four weeks ago, why the hell is he still in my head?
a friend told me that it's natural, it was a surprise to me, he blindsided me with his bullshit, and I was completely invested.... I had gotten over my fear of what the relationship could mean in the first couple weeks, and that's when I opened up and started playing seriously, and the piece of shit encouraged it all, helped me open up, helped me stop being worried, all the while he was closing in and freaking out
motherfuckingcocksuckingbitchfucker
the prick held my face between his hands, looked into my soul, and told me to "have faith in this relationship". I think that was the moment I seriously fell for him and went all in. A week later when I was curled up on his lap and said "yeah, this still feels right", he laughed and said "why wouldn't it?"... see, on our second date at his place, he was curled up in my lap and said those words first, "this all feels so right"
words have power ....
I kept listening to the words, and ignoring the actions which told me otherwise
.... fucking fool I was
but how do I avoid this next time?, being led on, being taken for a fool, not being swept away by the pretty words and loving actions all the while accepting their faults and their humanity.... and the thing is, I love the romance, the words, the actions, all of that means so much to me, I don't want to lock my heart down and ignore them or make those things meaningless.
how does one still thrill at love and lust and discovery while keeping themselves safe?.... how does one leave themselves open to be swept away without being swept into the garbage?
I refuse to lock my heart down
just means it's going to keep getting broken and hurt
but at least I'll feel the joy as well
I've been asked on more than one occasion, "do you actually know any truly happy people?, without fear, anxiety, doubt". My first answer is always no, then I think about it, and yes, I do think I know people like this, but when I look at their lives, they seem dead, dull, empty. Just pieces of a machine trudging through life with a smile on their faces as if it was put there by chemical means, or too stupid to know any different. A smile that seems to mean nothing.... less than nothing....
I'll take the extreme emotions any day over that emptiness
the risks are worth it
Yes I'm doing good overall, no I'm not terribly worried about not finding a new partner in the long run, and no, I'm not interested in doing any serious dating right now, more interested in doing some serious fucking
but he still jumps into my head too goddamned often
I can't even enjoy some personal sexual time without him popping into my head and fucking it all up, and with the cold that I got nailed with last week, I haven't had any intimacy in going on 3 weeks. The tantric experience, while wonderful, didn't scratch that very specific itch, and the kinky party which gave me (and a shit-ton of others) a cold was more of a tease than anything else.....
if he appeared in front of me, I'd fucking bitch-slap him, he deserves it
perhaps he's in my head cause it's his birthday today, and I had wanted to make that day special for him, and I knew the gift I wanted to get him, but I'm no longer part of the picture.... dunno.... but last week was easier than this week has been, and I don't understand why
the relationship only lasted eight or nine weeks for fucks sake, and it ended four weeks ago, why the hell is he still in my head?
a friend told me that it's natural, it was a surprise to me, he blindsided me with his bullshit, and I was completely invested.... I had gotten over my fear of what the relationship could mean in the first couple weeks, and that's when I opened up and started playing seriously, and the piece of shit encouraged it all, helped me open up, helped me stop being worried, all the while he was closing in and freaking out
motherfuckingcocksuckingbitchfucker
the prick held my face between his hands, looked into my soul, and told me to "have faith in this relationship". I think that was the moment I seriously fell for him and went all in. A week later when I was curled up on his lap and said "yeah, this still feels right", he laughed and said "why wouldn't it?"... see, on our second date at his place, he was curled up in my lap and said those words first, "this all feels so right"
words have power ....
I kept listening to the words, and ignoring the actions which told me otherwise
.... fucking fool I was
but how do I avoid this next time?, being led on, being taken for a fool, not being swept away by the pretty words and loving actions all the while accepting their faults and their humanity.... and the thing is, I love the romance, the words, the actions, all of that means so much to me, I don't want to lock my heart down and ignore them or make those things meaningless.
how does one still thrill at love and lust and discovery while keeping themselves safe?.... how does one leave themselves open to be swept away without being swept into the garbage?
I refuse to lock my heart down
just means it's going to keep getting broken and hurt
but at least I'll feel the joy as well
I've been asked on more than one occasion, "do you actually know any truly happy people?, without fear, anxiety, doubt". My first answer is always no, then I think about it, and yes, I do think I know people like this, but when I look at their lives, they seem dead, dull, empty. Just pieces of a machine trudging through life with a smile on their faces as if it was put there by chemical means, or too stupid to know any different. A smile that seems to mean nothing.... less than nothing....
I'll take the extreme emotions any day over that emptiness
the risks are worth it
Monday, 10 March 2014
I met my Dad
I tried to tell him in person that I was trans during christmas evening 2012, I never see him very often or regularly, and it had been on my mind for a while, especially that I was quite sure transition was a sure thing at that point, and I knew he had to be told before I showed up at his girlfriends place wearing makeup, but I choked, couldn't do it.
So I outed myself to him electronically a week or three later, in Jan 2013, and while I don't have the email anymore, I remember writing that yes, transition was certain, I just wasn't sure when it would start. After a quick back and forth, he pretty much threw his hands up and said "I want nothing to do with you anymore"
great....
My transition began, my marriage ended, and during last year I sent him two emails, one in July after my social transition had occurred, and one a few months later, mid September I think, just keeping him up to date with where I was in life, how I was doing, and the freedom that I now felt. The first went completely unanswered, the second, answered poorly and maliciously.
I heard through the grapevine that if his girlfriend, or my sister, tried to talk to him about me, he would shut down, become an asshole, give people the silent treatment. Lashing out.
not the actions of someone that is angry.... but afraid
He owns a condo that my sister had been living in for the past ... shit... almost ten years I guess?. She recently moved across the country, and as I'm about to put my house on the market, I'll need a place to stay. Long story short, through words transmitted through his girlfriend, he again ignored the words in an email I sent him at the same time, and offered me the place to stay. Another quick back and forth and I accepted.
which of course means I'll meet him.... kind of a long way around for this happen, but whatever, I'll take it
so it happened
first look was somewhat surprised, incredulous, not in a bad way, just a "goddamn, well look at that, sheesh". Idle chitchat was the name of the evening, I mentioned aspects of my transition from time to time, and while I was more talking to her, he listened attentively, he screwed up my name and pronouns most of the time, but usually remembered to correct himself (on the name at least, pronouns take longer with parents), so I can't really complain about that. All in all though, who I now was was not quite the elephant in the room, as there didn't feel to be much tension, but at the same time, my new gender wasn't really mentioned.
the drinks kept pouring, more him than me, a levee was cracking
while discussing the ability to see a problem rationally, and talk to yourself about it, in order to solve serious problems, I reminded him of his inability to do so with me. It had been since Christmas 2012 since we had seen each other last, and within moments, the flood gates opened
What was said is private
just know it was good
I, in all honesty, don't recall the last time he told me he loved me or even hugged me. Both occurred many many times last night.
and it felt good
I have a dad again
and I just really cried about this for the first time, I knew it had to sink in a bit
love to all
So I outed myself to him electronically a week or three later, in Jan 2013, and while I don't have the email anymore, I remember writing that yes, transition was certain, I just wasn't sure when it would start. After a quick back and forth, he pretty much threw his hands up and said "I want nothing to do with you anymore"
great....
My transition began, my marriage ended, and during last year I sent him two emails, one in July after my social transition had occurred, and one a few months later, mid September I think, just keeping him up to date with where I was in life, how I was doing, and the freedom that I now felt. The first went completely unanswered, the second, answered poorly and maliciously.
I heard through the grapevine that if his girlfriend, or my sister, tried to talk to him about me, he would shut down, become an asshole, give people the silent treatment. Lashing out.
not the actions of someone that is angry.... but afraid
He owns a condo that my sister had been living in for the past ... shit... almost ten years I guess?. She recently moved across the country, and as I'm about to put my house on the market, I'll need a place to stay. Long story short, through words transmitted through his girlfriend, he again ignored the words in an email I sent him at the same time, and offered me the place to stay. Another quick back and forth and I accepted.
which of course means I'll meet him.... kind of a long way around for this happen, but whatever, I'll take it
so it happened
first look was somewhat surprised, incredulous, not in a bad way, just a "goddamn, well look at that, sheesh". Idle chitchat was the name of the evening, I mentioned aspects of my transition from time to time, and while I was more talking to her, he listened attentively, he screwed up my name and pronouns most of the time, but usually remembered to correct himself (on the name at least, pronouns take longer with parents), so I can't really complain about that. All in all though, who I now was was not quite the elephant in the room, as there didn't feel to be much tension, but at the same time, my new gender wasn't really mentioned.
the drinks kept pouring, more him than me, a levee was cracking
while discussing the ability to see a problem rationally, and talk to yourself about it, in order to solve serious problems, I reminded him of his inability to do so with me. It had been since Christmas 2012 since we had seen each other last, and within moments, the flood gates opened
What was said is private
just know it was good
I, in all honesty, don't recall the last time he told me he loved me or even hugged me. Both occurred many many times last night.
and it felt good
I have a dad again
and I just really cried about this for the first time, I knew it had to sink in a bit
love to all
Thursday, 27 February 2014
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
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
Monday, 24 February 2014
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
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
Friday, 21 February 2014
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.
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
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
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
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