Bad at Updating

Alright. I'm awful at it.
Infact not only am I awful at updating, I don't feel like I'm very good at writing in the first place so why did I even think that starting a blog was a good idea?

I didn't really. I don't particularly like writing (mostly because I don't feel I'm very good at it) also I find it more difficult than talking out loud. That I'm an expert at. I could run my mouth all day if you let me and there was someone to pretend to listen. I sort of started this blog at the suggestion of my therapist who thought it could be a useful tool in venting frustrations or analysing some of my feelings about transitioning. I think it can be; for some people. People who are drawn to writing as a tool of expression to begin with. I, however, consider myself to be a visual artist. What that means in my case is; I can paint or sculpt or draw or be generally arty and creative or destructive depending on what the job calls for, heck I can write informally too if its just casual like this and I'm trying to avoid doing something that might in some way be emotionally taxing like I am doing right now. That is until I'm told I should write something.

I am currently supposed to be writing a "Written life story regarding my gender identity history and goals" I cannot begin to describe how frustrating it is for me to be requested to write something. This just feels like I need to qualify how feel about myself to prove to "the powers that decide" that I should be taken seriously about my needs to transition and that am seeking top surgery and need assistance attaining it because medical fees are expensive if you go to a private surgeon to have this procedure done but if I go through "the powers that decide" and they decide "yes" then I can have the government pay for this for me which means I can continue to pay the government what little money I have for letting me go to college so I can have enough education to have an entry level full-time job in a field I didn't go to school for so I could pay the bills.

That being said this life story thing is essentially what I've told my therapist and only a small handful of people. I wouldn't even say a handful really... my therapist... one close friend... my ex... No one really knows as much about my childhood except for my therapist and one of my close friends. Some other close friends know bits and pieces but no one knows everything like I do and its really hard telling people those things because they have been kept hidden and quiet and ignored and buried for so long because they are hard to deal with. And mine to deal with. They aren't for other people. I don't like... asking for help. I deal with my own burdens because I don't feel its fair for other people to have to deal with mine as well as their own.

I realise it seems a little hypocritical to then go asking "the powers that decide" for help but I don't feel like I really have a choice. I need the ability to just... be. To not have to explain to people why I feel the way I do or how I knew I was trans-man or whats in my underpants or be mistaken for being a really impressive trans-woman. I just want to exist and be comfortable with my body and until I pass I will have to continually qualify my existence.
The truth is it was transition or shut down completely. I was becoming a shell. Someone else. Someone who existed but had no insides. Hollow.

So I guess I will have to explain to "the powers that decide" just like I explain to every well-meaning, ill-informed, curious, sheltered person who asks.

"Oh... your name is John? I've never met a girl named John before. Is that short for something?"

"John huh? I've noticed a lot of girls are going by the male short-form of their names now a days. What's your full name?"

"Yeah but what's your real name?"

"I'm sorry I'm going to have to ask you to leave the men's room. you can't be in here. Leave the men's room or leave the bar. What does your ID say?"

"So... like... do you have a penis?"

"Do you think you'll get the surgery?"

"Wow, you used to be a boy? Cuz you're like... really pretty!" (I would like to say "fuck you" on behalf of Trans-women, you ignorant cow!)

"Why would you want to be a boy when you are so pretty as a girl?"

"This is a man's haircut. I will give you a similar ladies' haircut. Very pretty, you would make some boy very happy. Boys like girls with short hair."

"You know your... johnson right? Isn't it true you could just... get one as big as you like? Why wouldn't you just do that? I mean... why would you want a small one??"


By the way, as of August 21st I started T and have been on it for 16 weeks. I am still misgendered fairly regularly but the other day at the mall my cashier at Tim Horton's called me "Miss" and then called me "Sir" for the rest of my order and the guy in the HMV called me "man" and "dude". I'm fairly sure I've begun passing on the phone, hopefully I'll be able to find my mic for my XBox soon and I'll be able to put that theory to the test on XBL.

P.S. - My girlfriend is awesome!