Transgender Day of Remembrance, Part III

And Afterwards

After the service, I sought out the minister I met last year (not easy ~ you know about me and faces!).  Remember I went to the previous two years in drab, and I spoke to her each time.  So I almost fainted when I introduced myself as "Meg" and said I spoke to her at previous TDoR events and she said "I remember you!"  That's absolutely the LAST thing I want to hear under those circumstances!

It turns out, she remembered my blog.  I had given her the address and she took the time and trouble to visit and matched me up to my pictures.  Crises averted, although she has met Meg and the other me.  That makes her one of a small but slowly growing group.

From there, Cindy, Charity, Rachel, and I went to a nearby restaurant.  We had some t-chat, some girl talk, and some nice food in a mostly-empty restaurant.  I can't speak for the rest of the girls, but I did not want to leave.  Alas, Tuesday night outings means Wednesday morning work.

Here is a picture of the t-threesome and the program for the event.  Click on any to enlarge.

Meg, Rachel, Cindy (Lucinda)

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Transgender Day of Remembrance, Part II

Remembering

I got there early, but not as early as I hoped.  The church clergy requested a donation of a canned good or clothing for a trans-support shelter in DC.  I brought in several items of clothing that I held back from the latest swap (sorry Kim, but I have *more* ~ I promise).

As I walked into the sanctuary, a pretty girl in the back row said "Meg?" and I met Cindy.  She introduced Joann and we moved up a few rows and sat and got to know each other.  Unfortunately, I didn't get to say more than "hello" to Joann.  I had a nice talk with Cindy and made sure she knew how great I thought it was that she runs this group and encourages other girls to get out.  It felt weird saying that, considering we were in an event remembering girls (and boys) who died just for doing what we were doing.  I will admit that girls like Cindy and Stana and a few others are personal heroines.

At the start of the service Rachel came bouncing in.  Some of us are out.  Rachel is OUT.  I first met
her before she was Rachel (she was Vanessa then) and before she understood herself (she's transitioning now).  Where I am full of doubts about my situation, Rachel is at peace.  Everyone who needs to know about Rachel, knows, and they are dealing with it.  Her orchestra mates are fine, her co-workers and work management are fine, her wife is fine....  I think until one reaches their own personal equivalent of Rachel's level one cannot answer the simple question, "how important is this to me?"

The service was very nice.  I was going to add "but a wee bit disorganised" but until I can do better, I'll keep my mouth shut.  Fingers still.  Whatever.

I enjoyed the readings, and I enjoyed the speakers even more than the readings.

The crowd participated via singing, holding hands, sitting sadly when they lit a candle for each person killed in the past year.

At the end, I was looking over the people who came up to light the candles and the congregants.  I started to make a mental list of how many men were there, how many women, and I didn't.  I realised I'm in a room full of people strewn across the gender spectrum and if we introduced ourselves just by gender experiences we'd probably each occupy a unique spot:

He used to be she and just got married to a woman. 
She is gender-satisfied and gay. 
He is trans but scared and would faint if someone handed him a bra. 
She is getting hormones because facial/body hair is important to her self image. 
He told his wife about his secret hobby because hearing about the TDoR made it important to do so. 
She has a son who's trans, out in California. 
He is deep in the closet, hiding his girl wardrobe, and made up an excuse to come tonight. 
She believes in equal rights, deep in her soul, and came to show support and learn.

I don't know anybody's story.  But I know deep down that every person in that congregation had a different one.  We're all people with a common interest: we're here because other people died for the crime of being themselves.

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Therapy the Thirteenth

Someone is mistaken.  I'm getting a lot of mixed messages.


Monday, I saw an individual therapist, M.  Sorry.  I keep saying "therapist," as if she's her title.  Let me call  couples' therapist is A and my new sounding board is M.  

Pretty?  Wow.  March, 2008, one of my first solo outings

I gave M my background, what's troubling me and my marriage right now, and I told her about my wanting a six months "sabbatical" and getting six weeks poured into my lap.  Her comment: "yay!"

This is a little different than my wife's reaction.  My wife has also been heaping on the guilt by telling me how I am "abandoning" my son and this will ruin his life.  M said "well, if you just frame it as a six week housesitting trip, I don't think it'll do any damage."

(note: M suggested that my wife might be projecting the "abandoned" label on my son.  That's probably on the mark.  She feels each of her parents abandoned her, in different ways, at different times.)

That was my feeling as well, but I'm not very good at people so I try to rely on others for that.  The big problem is, I can't rely on my wife because she's a stakeholder here.  Mixed messages.

I think I understand what she feels.  I don't think she understands what I feel.  I think a break will be a literal lifesaver and a probable marriage saver.

The other interesting thing from Monday's session: after I told my tale, she asked if I was an introvert (admitted) and said maybe I can arrange some time alone inside the house, where I can recharge.  Then I said "there's one more thing you need to know" and I handed her five pictures of Meg from various venues that I brought along.  She looked at the pictures and said "I don't understand why you're showing me these."  I was thinking of how to phrase my response and she said "who is this woman?" and I said "me.  It's something I like to do."  She said "I can see why... you're gorgeous."

We talked a bit about how I have to hide at home and how I can be a bit more open while housesitting and how her time at the beach is often an outlet for me ~ for Meg ~ but not this time because of reasons I told you all yesterday.

Surprisingly, she didn't ask if I planned to transition.  Maybe she doesn't know enough to ask.  If so, that may be a problem.  She admitted to not knowing a lot about gender identity issues.  I'm hoping she'll know a bit more before my next visit (which is still about a week away).

She also said that talking about "this" (I don't think she knows what to call it) seemed to make me genuinely happy.  I didn't realise there was that big a difference in my demeanour, but I guess I'm not surprised.

One odd moment: I had told her that I have to hide all of this at home (which is why the in-house time-alone won't work well) and she said "how do you feel about hiding this?"  Well Duh.  But I put it down to therapist reflex.  "I bought $20,000 worth of cheese."  "How do you feel about spending $20,000 on cheese?"

On Tuesday I saw the couples therapist, A, alone.

I led the discussion.  I asked her point-blank what she thought of my six-week plan.  She said "I mentioned early on that maybe you need a separation to avoid a separation."  I don't remember her saying this; when I recapped with my wife, she did remember.  I told A how I felt my life and health were literally in jeopardy, and that I do understand the meaning of the word "literally."

A also agreed that framing this as "six weeks of housesitting" would be fine and not really bother our son.  She suggested a "date night" (with my wife, not her) which I had also suggested to my wife.  She was lukewarm, but she's also angry.  The thought of my behaviour angering someone make me furious [ha ha] but it's really reached a point where I have to move myself to the front of the "care" line and hope I'm forgiven when it all shakes out.

That assumes I'm also doing the right thing.  I'm not convinced.  I'm also out of ideas.

I also showed her my little stack of photos.  She knew who she was looking at; one picture was Meg and a friend and she asked who the friend was; I told her and gave her a bit of background.  I also told her that my wife got very upset when I told her I wanted to meet with Rachel for coffee last weekend.  I would not be dressed and Rachel is transitioning.  To her, I'm "having coffee with a woman" which is a big hooray! for Rachel, but kind of incomprehensible to me.

Oh... A also pronounced me "pretty" and mentioned a couple of pictures she really liked.  One accompanies this post.  Until I looked at the pictures myself, I didn't realise I was in four different states for those five photos!

Friday, we meet with A again, ostensibly to discuss telling my son about my time out.  No, I haven't told him yet, at my wife's request/demand.  She said "not before school ends so he can focus on his work" and "not before vacation so he can enjoy it" and then her plan was to keep him away until I was out of the house.  When was I supposed to tell him?  Beats me.  But she also said she's not going to do it ~ it's up to me.

Yes, she makes this easier and easier.  Yes, I am being sarcastic.

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