Top Surgery

Week 2, post op.

Transitions of My Life

Life transitions are always hard for me.  Hell I think they are hard for everyone. Change is just a growing pain of life.

So in December 2014 I had to find a new living area and thankfully I found a friend and have been with them for the past 3 months.

In about two weeks I am going to be 22 years old. Which amazes me that I have come this far. Hell last year I was even more amazed at getting to 21.  Plus with transgender statistics people in my category only live to 23 and I hope I survive longer then that.

My life has been an up hill climb both ways these last three years for me.

So, I guess what I am getting at is that I am amazed that I am still alive and kicking and able to make posts still.

When I keep seeing transgender people getting killed by being themselves or doing it to themselves in the form of suicide due to not having a support net to fall back on which makes me sad and angry at the same time.

Why is our society so messed up that just due to not being afraid to be the real you, can kill you?

Transgender Day of Remembrance 2014 in Riverside,CA

This is what dysphoria feels like

a gentleman and a scholar

Because so many people who want to know more about trans rights, and be supportive, don’t really know what dysphoria is, or what it can do.

Because so many people who want to derail or dismiss discussions of trans people and our existence believe that they can ignore it, or somehow explain it away.

Have you ever broken a limb and had it in plaster? And when you went to move it you couldn’t – when your brain told it to function it failed? When you looked down and expected something – preemptively felt it – your eyes contradicted you, the limitations of your embodied self clashed against the self that your brain expected to be there?

That’s how dysphoria has always felt to me.

It was stumbling with shock when my arms brushed against my breasts (and I struggle to write the word my next to breasts because they…

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Two Spirit

When I have a brand new hair do
Not with my eye lashes all in a curl
I can’t seem to float on clouds of air
And I don’t enjoy being a girl

I don’t flip when a fellow sends me flowers
I can’t drool over dresses made of lace
I can’t seem to talk on the telephone for hours
And I sure as hell don’t wear a pound and a half of cream upon my face

I am not strictly female
Or male at that either
I am a two spirit

And I hope my future will bring
Peace and Happiness
With a couple of kitty cats and puppy dogs, running under neath me

When men say I am cute and funny
I look at them with this most confused look on my face
As they misgender me
And think, and say out loud – EXCUSE ME, BUT IT’S SIR
I don’t enjoy being a girl

I am a MAN
I drool over tuxes and ties
I text for hours at a time
And I look in the mirror every day
Trying to see what hair is growing upon this face of mine

I am not strictly female
I am not strictly male
I am a two spirit

And I hope this future of mine
Will turn into something better then the past
That was hell for me
I enjoy being a GUY

Internal Revolution, External Evolution

My talking my poem out that I did off of a friends tattoos.

Long Distance Relationship

Lately life was looking like it was going down a down ward spiral. But then things started to get better for me.

I meet a really nice young Trans Man that I will just be using the letter K for his name.  K is a sweet heart that lives down in the south.

We meet on an ftm Facebook group and just started chatting about all things ftm . And I was giving him links left and right. He then gave me his phone number to text him. So he could have more information. For he just owns a smart phone and doesn’t have a computer at all.

From there we started chatting and became friends and now are more then just that.

So, my ankle is still messed up from a choir injury that happened a while ago.

But all my activism for the T in LGBT is going well.

And now I have a cutie that keeps me in good spirits as well.

The Lone Wolf

A man lost in the woods. Looking for his pack to belong with. Trying to get back into society of fucked up America that is the way it is now a days. A shaman that knows how to hide deep down inside of his self and his cave and only come out at night when it feels safe.

 

Where am I to go? I ask myself from time to time. Since I turned 18 I became the lone wolf of my family. Kicked out of his pack due to being a lesbian. My family slowly came to terms with that. And then at 19 after coming back home from the Navy and being told I am a failure from my Grandfather. Move to Texas and come out as a Trans* Man.

That was two years ago.

I thought my family had gotten over themselves. But NO!

They have just gotten even worse. Telling me I need to see a therapist, which is true. But hoping it is one that will try to tell me that I need to be a woman and not the man that I truly am deep down inside that I have been hiding since I was around the age of 6 or 7.

I know my Grandparents just saw me as a tomboy and thought it was a “phase”. But it never was a phase for me and is not.

I used to dream that I would wake up with the right parts when I was in elementary school. When I learned about the male and female body I was terrified of the changes I would face with the body that “God” gave me. My hellish temple that I have learned to just live with for the past 21 years of my existence.

Now that I have been out as a Trans* Man for a year. I am slowly going through my emotional transition. To get all my military family bull shit out of my head. It is hard. For the tape recorders and buttons that they installed into my main frame are a bitch to get out with my own personal sonic screwdriver. For I know that I am not the first or the last, transgender individual that has had to go from fire into the frying pan and then hell and back again.

At this moment in time though. It is really a pain in the ass for me. Due to the fact that my gender therapist a month ago took me out of her service due to the fact that I was far too emotion for her to handle in a group setting and that she could not see me one on one.

As well as my Grandmother sicking a group of fundamentalist christian missionaries from my hometown Bozeman,Montana on me when they came down for spring break to do a mission trip. And my grandmother gave them my personal cell number as well as address. So that they could have a trans* intervention on me and take the trans out of me kinda intervention. As well as get me back to Christ.  For my grandmother thinks that I have strayed the path due to being a pan-sexual trans* man as well as pagan. Which is just her own personal craziness. I had to tell the group of the missionaries that tried to take me back to my home state a week before my 21st birthday that I would not go with them and almost had to call the cops on them.

SO the month of March was crazy for me. But it looks like things might possibly be getting better for me. Even thought I still feel like the lone wolf just going threw the daily motions of life and not really knowing where the God and Goddess have planned for my life. In this hellish world that we all live in.

 

Gender Therapy

I though group therapy was going well for me. But bloody emotions and things that have been pushed to the back of my mind for years and then bring it up and all that trauma surfacing to the top makes someone have an emotional melt down. And I know that is far less except able in a group then one on one therapy setting.

I know I talk to much and I just feel so awkward and lonely in group. For I am such a different guy then all the others. I try to not be a man with an audience of peers. I try to keep my urges of wanting to help another threw my personal experiences and just get help for myself. All I wanted was help to get over all my fears and bull shit aka tape recorders of my family and get free of it all slowly but surely so I could let it go and just be me. And have friends from group and be a part of there life as well as them in mine.

And start finally getting through my emotional transition. *sighs*

Gender Therapist 2.0

Well, Therapy seems to be going well for me. Yet, it feels like my therapist hardly cares about me. She knows that I am broke and semi-homeless at this moment in time. I also understand she has to help the other guys in the group. It just feels to me that she hardly wants to get to know me and really help me. It was nice the first time I saw her and it was one on one. But she twisted my arm about  wanting to go on to Testosterone. And stated to me; the way I took it, that she will only continue to see me if I do start on T.

I understand that artificial hormones for trans folk are great and dandy. But, with my family history of mental illness and all my past junk with my family that I have not been able to get through, I am just an emotional mess at the moment.  As well as not wanting to lose my singing voice that the high power above gifted me with.

As my Big Brother told me with his tattoos, it is an emotional evolution for an internal revolution.

You have to get through all the emotional junk in your head first. Then be  110% sure that you wish to medically transition.

Which in this point in time is hard for me to fathom, getting on hormones.

Due to all the personal turmoil in my mind that I have not been able to release and fully conquered yet.

Anyways…that is how I am feeling about hormones at the moment.