Hump Day

May. 10th, 2017 02:14 pm
I am finally beginning to notice more changes to my body. I cut a slender figure now, although I wear a flannel shirt to hide my chest. I must be nearing an ‘A’ cup, and I do not call attention to them to Bethany, who says she is still having a hard time with it. Too bad. Well, that’s what she said last year about how she wanted to increase the budget spent on food and cleaning products. It’s my house. Not hers. I deliberately did not put her name on it for that reason. But back to my body, in part because Bethany has been babbling all morning about this and that and how she doesn’t like that I bought this and that. My legs have certainly become more defined, and I have noticed it takes a lot more effort to life something heavy. It’s likely the lack of testosterone that has caused that, which is fine; it’s my hope that I will eventually weigh less than Bethany, who weighs about 160. I know that is a pipe dream, though. About 165-170, I would look really good, and my aim is on that number.
Been doing more skincare lately, which has enabled me to start seeing a more feminine face. My cheeks are really the only area that need to be filled in, and I can certainly feel them over time. I’ve only been on a full dose for a few months, and while estrogen had certainly been building up in my system, I didn’t have a hormone blocker to suppress testosterone.
Bethany said that she doesn’t want to tell her father about me; she fears he will have a heart attack. I said fine, but on the inside, I am upset. Once again, because other people are uncomfortable with me, I can’t be myself. Story of my fucking life. The list of things that I was not allowed to bring up or talk about to either Sara or Bethany runs a mile long.
Part of me sincerely hopes that my entire family rejects me. I really do. I hope that every one of them says they will not accept gifts or any further contact. It would bring such relief to know that I never meant anything to these people to begin with, never meant anything to my parents, either, I think. My mother’s side of the family have largely pushed me away, which is fine; I am going to slowly unfriend more people as time goes on in efforts to whittle down my social circle. I don’t need people in my life. I don’t. I don’t want that many people in my life, either. I don’t think I’m bitter about that; it’s the truth. These people are toxic, poison to me, and I need to make sure that I do not allow their poison to infect my life.
I was just thinking about this earlier while I was running on the elliptical. When I was a kid I used to have this dream, a reoccurring one, where I had this black cloud that followed me around any time I went out of the house. I am not entirely sure exactly what it did, but this sense of imminent doom seemed to plague me as a child. Could this have meant that any time I went outside I could not be my authentic self? It is an interesting theory, and while I will likely never know, there is a great deal of my life that is up in the air right now. I told my wife that I have been prescribed two patches rather than one; I told her that I was going to wait to start taking them until after she was done with her surgery, but with her surgery done there is little left to stop me from starting them. We talked a bit about how she is always asking me if I am angry at her, which I have now finally begun to understand: I asked my mother if she were angry a lot, and I can only imagine how angry she eventually got. Not only that, but I think Bethany has an issue with anger besides her own: I tried explaining that frustration is a natural thing, as are other emotions, at which point she explained she’d asked me if I could do the two pictures on the wall, and I had said yes. I explained that any project has its setbacks, and to assume that everything will automatically go smoothly is absurd. She still disagrees, but at least I left for work this afternoon in a better mood and it seems we parted on loving terms.
Every day I am reminded by God to hang in there, and realize that there is a reason for this madness. There is so much of my life ahead of me; there are still so many things I have yet to accomplish. There are many things God wants me to learn; there are still so many things I want to learn, both about myself and about God. I have to constantly remind myself that I know the truth, and that while others may disagree with me, they may think I’m lying, etc., I know the truth. I have much to offer the world, and even though I am 37 and only now truly starting to live, I see the sunshine every day. If I can think about the awesome future that God has for me, or just that I have a future, then I will not allow myself to be distracted by the idiots around me who want to steal my joy, steal what little happiness I find in my life, and I will be able to continue to move forward.
My medical records came in today. It says from Bactes Imaging Center. I can only imagine that it is either Lahey or Children’s Hospital. I am terrified. I am terrified by what it is going to tell me about myself, about my life. I think what I fear most is disappointment. I fear that what I have felt my entire life, that I was supposed to have been born a girl, is invalid, just as all my feelings always have been invalid, and that B will no longer support me through my transition. Not that she really is; if there is one thing I have learned, it is that encouragement is rarely, if ever, found in this marriage. What did I see in her that caused me to desire to marry her? Apparently, what I wanted to see in myself. I wanted to be a tough-as-nails person who has a soft spot for a girl. I want to be a woman who is able to stand her ground and stand up to people without backing down. I want to be fearless, prideless, but above all, I want to be myself.
So now, I will open my medical records and take a look and see what is in there.

Hump Day

Apr. 12th, 2017 08:42 am
Yesterday, I finished grading the class that ended Monday. It was a good semester, but so many students did the bare minimum required for the course that it is hard for me to think that this next class, the one that starts tonight, is going to go well, either. I will start doing review quizzes at the beginning of each class; the goal isn't to punish students, but rather, to get them to realize that unless they show up in my classroom regularly they aren't going to be able to pass the class.

There has been an interesting revelation in my life, one which has shattered me to the core. For the vast majority of my life I have been taught to sit there and listen. I have been treated harshly, judged unfairly by my peers, picked on, made fun of, beaten, made to feel unwelcome, and have just kind of existed, My solace, of course, was in my writing. It is my wish I could go back in time and change things, but after reading today’s scripture notes, including Luke 9:45, I am compelled to believe that God deliberately kept all this hidden from me. Why? Because He desires to see me in pain? I don’t think so. I think He did this because He has something special in mind for me to accomplish. Of course, me talking about my purpose at all results in B’s getting angry; just as earlier last year I told her about how Bill and I met, how he had prayed to meet someone whom he could help, and he met me. B’s response, that it wasn’t even Biblical, stunned me to the core, and I think a great deal of people would have said the same, not so much because it is not Biblical, but because it involves me.
So, yesterday I told B that I would eat here with her, at home, in order to spend time with her. I had no idea that doing that would cause so much anger, although I am used to it. I am used to being told that her anger is always justified, and mine is never acceptable. So I was sitting there at the table, and B started opening up with ‘I’m glad you’re here, I’m glad you’re here, but…’ and then she launched into an attack about how she didn’t know I was staying home for lunch, and how I caused all these problems for her. Now, what bothers me is this: if you say that you are glad about something and then use but, it invalidates everything you’ve said before it. I can say that here because this is my journal, and I’m not putting any more filters on for people. My experience has taught me that people watch my words like a hawk. I could say something completely valid and a bunch of people would just jump all over me. It is something that has happened since I was born. I am rarely welcome in relatives’ houses; they do not appear to care or want me over there, really. Someone can spend millions of dollars on a house, etc. I spend fifty bucks, I get yelled at.
After this ‘discussion’ I went to my counselor. I was sitting there in the waiting room when I happened to read an article about a trans woman who had experienced all kinds of abuse, all kinds of unfair treatment growing up. Reading this narrative was eye-opening to me. I’d never thought that the way I’d been treated, from how I walked to how I talked, etc. would be tied up into my gender identity. I mentioned it to B yesterday, who promptly brushed me off and told me that I had to understand: people care about me and they want to see me succeed in life. I remember Jordan, who got a free pass for having long hair, while I was shredded for the same. When the youngest girl cousin had to go to summer school her senior year of high school no one seemed to care; indeed, my hearing about it brought ire from my Uncle, who did not want me to know anything about the family. However, the fact that I was pretty lazy in my parents’ eyes during my senior year of high school has been brought up again and again and again to the point where it seems that will be the only thing I am ever known for.
What fascinates me is that it is only now, at almost thirty-eight years old, that I am realizing just who I am as a person. God hid all this from me. Why? Would it have really changed things had I not been married? I honestly don’t know, but I’m going to guess yes. If I had castrated myself as a teen I would likely have never gotten into these relationships, not that it really would have mattered much to me, anyway, but it would certainly have meant I wouldn’t be sitting here now, having wasted half of my life sitting down and listening to others tell me how to feel, how to act, etc.

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