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!

The Beginning

This'll be quick. I just wanted to post something so I had a better idea of how things would show up on this page after I start messing around with the design.

Sometimes you get an idea in your head and it becomes the most important thing for the few minutes it takes from conceiving the idea and executing the idea. I have had the idea of writing a blog for a few months now but today it took hold of me and would not let me sleep. A fact made more unfortunate because I happen to be working nights and it is hard enough to sleep during the day in the land of the living.

I am not a particularly skillful writer. In fact my grades in high school English were fairly mediocre. So be aware this is not going to be some fantastic work the likes of which the world has not seen since Orson Scott Card or Philip K. Dick. Actually this blog will be mostly non-fiction and with a healthy dose of hyperbole like any entertaining blog.

I know this blog will not speak to everyone. I know this blog will not reach many people (if any at all) for quite some time. My hope is not to have some super successful internet-sensation with followers and fans from around the world and in all walks of life. Although it might be a little more fun to know people are reading; I feel like that would put a lot of expectations on me and I don't think that more stress is what I need. What I do need is a place to express my thoughts, share some art, vent some frustrations and open up a bit more. Perhaps sharing with the anonymity of the internet will lend me the freedom to do so. Maybe my thoughts on my situation will help someone else who has found this page.

I am Transitioning. FtoM.
Maybe you are too, or maybe you are MtoF, or maybe you have a friend who is/has/will be. Maybe you just have some gay friends or are gay yourself. Maybe you're just curious. You could be any number of things, and that's okay too.
If you think this blog might help you, or someone you know, please share it. Feel free to comment too. I'd love to hear your thoughts. I hope to keep this a friendly, supportive and understanding place.

If you've found it; it's called Y Not? Being an X-man.
I'll explain why I chose this.
Speaking by way of chromosomes (btw: a subject on which I am no expert)
XX - Two "X" chromosomes denotes a female.
XY - One "X" and one "Y" denotes a male.
And if you're living in the Marvel Universe, a third "X" or a second "X" respectively, would mean you were a mutant and therefore awesome but persecuted. (X-Men)

Y is also a question on its own. "Why?"

Why was I born the way I was? Why do I feel wrong in my own body? Why was I born without this "Y" chromosome? Why am I a male inside a woman's body?

Tongue planted firmly in cheek: Does this finally make me an X-Man?