A Visit, Progress, and McAfee

Its been such an eventful week.  I got to visit a couple of local friends and catch up, which was so nice.  Plus I've been in a dorky mood lately, and they were in the mood to play video games, and actually suggested one of my favorites that I had not had the chance to play in multiplayer for some time.  It was nice, and very nostalgic too.  

At work, things have been busy, but I've not felt to stressed.  McAfee released a bad dat file that destroyed svchost.exe on Windows XP Service Pack 3 computers.  We use Windows XP Service Pack 3 on most of our machines, and the state has mandated McaFee for every workstation, so the impact was severe in my office, with lots of sudden problems Wednesday.  The cleaning process is tedious. Several services stop working correctly, including networking.  So unless you have some solution to boot to something else to replace files, clean up is completely manual.  That is basically the situation with us.

So from Wednesday through Friday, i've been doing the "sneakernet" thing. You have to strap on some fast shoes and run from machine to machine replacing files.  A bit ago, that would have been terrifying.  In early transition, all the looks, all the comments,  all the wondering what the crowd around me was thinking was too much to handle.  I'd put off work that involved staying in a populated classroom more than a few moments out of fear.  Even just walking the hall, worrying what people were thinking and when someone was going to scream something derogatory, was draining and I'd always have to unwind in my office a moment after a trip.

Slowly I've adjusted to being a bit of a curiosity though and learned to accept it. M my stress level has dropped with that lesson and I've become more efficient.  Its a good thing too, because there was no time to unwind this week.  I've been on the run, but I've enjoyed it.  For the most part, I got nothing but respect, and I've felt calm and focused, with only occasional bouts of social anxiety during the process.  

Also I've got to say this has been a very eventful few weeks in terms of physical transition.  My whole body shape continues to change in subtly feminine ways, and I've had several spurts of breast growth.  It complicates my passing as male, but I'm past caring.  In light of recent evidence it seems I'm very nearly out anyway, and I'm proud of the changes in my body. 

I'm hoping they can tolerate me in this androgynous state just a little longer as I finish laser and get my orchiectomy.  Soon after I'll be announcing my intent, and no matter what their decision about keeping me, I'll be out, and finally free to be myself.  I just hope until then my transition keeps progressing, and they keep accepting me.   JUst so thankful for my progress.  Its all so amazing I can't think about it without smiling. :)

A Suprise

Fascinating week here.  Work was absolutely wild and I've got a lot done.  Things at home have been comparatively tranquil.  More importantly though, my perception of my situation here as suddenly changed drastically.

A bit back I posted that because of some events out of town, that I was questioning how effective my presentation was and how much people around me have guessed or heard at this point.  Since that time, there has been more local evidence that people definitely know something is up, though I'm still left with lots of questions.

Most of the evidence is trivial stuff in conversation.  Students just definitely seem to see whats happening.  More and more, lots of them seem supportive.  Many take the time to say hi every time they see me at this point, and I even get some encouraging compliments from time to time.  Last week I was at the middle school and as I was hastily making my way down the hall to a job, a girl passing the other direction reached out to offer a high five. :)

With adults, things are improving as well.  People who seemed a bit uneasy about me as my appearance started to shift seem to be finding a comfort level with me now.  Maybe they have figured it out and are dealing with it now that the mystery is solved.  Maybe the newness and shock of my unusual presentation has worn off. Really it is hard to know.  But I have noticed that certain people go out of their away to avoid using male titles and pronouns for me unnecessarily.

Last week, I did something I've wanted to do forever.  I apologized to my ex from back in my high school and college days.  We dated for three years after meeting near the end of high school, and then married.  It was all a huge mistake, and a few months later she left and we had the marriage anulled.  Since then we have not been in touch often, but at one point she called to apologize for the manner in which she left, because she was suffering with guilt.

I always felt awful about simply accepting that apology, because really it was all my fault.  I misrepresented myself on so many levels in that relationship, and there was really no chance it could have lasted.  I was the one who should have ben apologizing to her, and this week, I finally found her online and explained everything.

It turned out she already knew.  She saw me on Thanksgiving weekend in 2008, when she came to visit my parents.  At the time, I knew she expected.  After all, she did tell me that at first she thought I was my mom.  She is telling me now that she had it pretty much figured out at that point. Besides that, her mother has since mentioned to her that a relative saw me in London, KY wearing a dress.

I had always thought that I might have been recognized there, as it is one of the closer, larger towns from here and lots of us go over.  As a tech working in a crowded school, there are more people who know me, than people I know.  Besides that, I have worked here for eight years, which means lots of graduates who are out working and living all over south eastern Kentucky could probably recognize me.

Back at one point, I wrote about a cashier asking me why I was in a dress in wig (when I was actually wearing my natural hair) over in London.  One possibility on why I was read has always been that they recognized me from school, and I simply didn't remember them.  Seems likely now that is the case.

So now I finally know definitively that at least some people in my community know.  Something like that doesn't happen without causing rumors when you live in a small town. With appearance changes corroborating  the rumor, I'd say I'm pretty much out on some level.  That thought was scary at first after our conversation, but then I realized, that really that I've always wished people could know the truth, and now apparently they do.

My boss has been complimenting my work, I feel secure at my job, and more welcome in this community than ever before.  Now I'm finding out that is all happening even with people at least partially knowing my situation.  As my contract comes up for renewal two months from now, I find myself wondering what happens next, but with more curiosity than fear. :)

The Weight of My Transgressions

Today, I should be happy. Hormones are working. Laser is working. I'm feeling better about myself than I ever have.  My work day was productive. The weather is pretty. Everything is for once clicking away like clockwork.

And yet, today my thoughts are heavy. Weighted  by guilt, and concern for a dear friend.

I was doing desk work this afternoon, when she logged in to google chat. I asked her how she was and she said she was feeling a little down. She's been having a hard time. Life for a single mother is always stressful. And now her car has been out of commission despite lots of parts being replaced over the past few weeks. But most importantly, she  had to leave a boyfriend  a few days ago; someone she had become really close to.

I found myself wishing so much I could see her and know she's okay. I wanted to hug her. But we are literally half a world apart. For I am here. And she is in South Africa. When she said that she was having a hard day, all I could do was struggle for some encouraging words.  She bravely sent back a little smiley in response.  And then I sat at my desk crying in frustration.

Partly I was just hurt that she was going through this again. Such a loving person, again by herself, struggling to detangle herself from emotions and memories that now cause pain. It was only a short time ago that she had to endure this same process.

But the main reason I cry is guilt. Because the boyfriend before this one, was me.  More than a boyfriend, I was her fiance.  If I had stayed with her until death due us part as I told her I would, she would not be alone.

We met online at a parrot forum.  I was in middle of the most thorough emotional "purge" of my life. What started as innocent flirting quickly turned into a strong emotional connection, growing steadily at both ends. For her, I was the sensitive man who always knew just what to say. Someone more like her than any man she had known; easy to relate to, and so in sync with her thoughts.  For me, she was the first person I had managed to truly bond with romantically in over ten years.  Also she was the most charming and engaging person I had ever met.  She was so caring and open minded in her perspective.  Besides all that she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.  

Her love for me was a healthy and wonderful thing.  And part of what I felt for her was just as healthy. But there were some dark under currents.  She met me at a point where I was trying to prove to myself once and for all that I could be a man. She became the justification for my continuing to exist as male.  She was the center of my life. 

She always said I knew just what to say and just what she needed. But the truth is, I knew how to act because I knew what I would want, were I her.  I bolstered her weak self esteam, and tried my best to make her feel loved, and beautiful.  I was living out my storybook romance, only, from the wrong end.

As our relationship progressed, we managed to spend time toegether in person. I flew to visit her in Cape Town once for three weeks. She came to me here twice. We toured Washington D.C., and Atlanta together.  For three years she was my world. She was the one thing that made my life make sense. And during that time we were both faithful to each other as we waited for a chance to live on the same continent.  My life revolved around our vacations together, and I was forever tethered through instant messaging, online games and phone calls; anything to keep us connected across the span.

But there was always turbulence.  After our first visit in person, my gender dysphoria, which I was denying more thoroughly than I ever had in my life, came raging back. It was 6 months into our relationship and I told her everything of my past.  I managed to keep it mostly at bay, but on higher and higher levels of my conscience I was aware that I was defying my true nature to make this work. 

I was always envious. When we were together in person, it was always so hard for me. She was delicate, smooth, so infinitely feminine.    Lying behind her at night, wrapped protectively around her small delicate form probably would have made a man feel strong, happy, and lucky to have such an amazing mate. But feeling her soft, curvy, feminine body against me mostly made me feel hopelessly disfigured and sad.  Sometimes I was unable to sleep. I would just lay behind her, half wishing I could have what she had and half clinging desperately to the strong, protective role that gave my pitiful male existence purpose.

...

This was written several months back.  At the time I just didn't have strength to finish.  I was cleaning up all my unused old drafts today and decided to try finishing the story.   The visits were amazing in ways.  I lived for them actually, even though one a year is all we could afford.  I have all these memories of us playing in the snow,  shopping two continents, hanging out at restaurants in Cape Town and exploring the city together.   Of course when you have that much emotion for someone all the affection is wonderful too.

In the end we were just not right for each other.  It was never an even relationship.  For her, it was love.  For me it was that and more.  Too much more.  It was a justification for living male. It was the one thing that made some sense of it all.  I was doing it because I loved her, so I was being what she needed.  This made the perfect excuse to keep taking the path of least resistance in my life.

By the end she had started picking up on that.  She started to realize that the relationship was the crutch propping up my male existence.  My life making sense depended on her, and that led to my desperately clinging to her.  With all my insecurities, and this need to defend the relationship combined, I was the most pitifully co-dependant, jealous, controlling creature imaginable.  For her, it was too much responsibility. And, me, I had become something less than human.  I was just her envious little satellite, able to exist only because of her.

I think it lasted as long as it did because beneath all of that, we really did have a lot of love for each other, and the distance was a bit of a buffer from the truth of our incompatibilities.  In the end though, the pull to be myself was too strong, and I came to resent what I had allowed myself to become.  I didn't want to be a satellite anymore, with who I am dictated by gravitation to someone else.  I wanted to be free to be myself.

The split was so difficult.  The memory that stands out the most is sitting in the floor with my back against a wall, with a cell phone in my hand.  I was crying.  She asked the question for the second time.  "So this is it? You're leaving me?" I could hear the pain in her voice. The first time she asked, I wasn't able to find the words.  This time, I managed a weak yes. And we both cried together.

It wasn't an even relationship.  For me, it's losing my orbit, my path, my reason for existence. Because I had become but a moon.  For her, you would think it easier to let go of her pesky little satellite, with its insecurities and its constant calls.  But satellites have their own tiny gravitational force, that effects the tides and a thousand other little things.  Losing one comes with its own pains.

When I answered her question with "yes", it was an agonizing moment for both of us, but something magical happened.  Satellites are supposed to slowly get closer as they orbit, until there's eventually a crash.  But in that moment, a moon lifted painfully and floated into space to find her own path.  All my life up tot hat moment, I took the path of least resistance, content to orbit someone or something else. But though it was hard at first, in that moment planet Shannon started defying gravity.