Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the "Story So Far" Page above this and the "New Readers" tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Wednesday, 11 August 2021

Yes, I can hear you, Clem Fandango

Today has been weird.

This was me yesterday, popping into
town whilst the family was in the city.

That smile though... I was heading to
return that red blouse, which I did.
I might be a little drunk, I don't know, I have had a 9% ABV stout and I've had it over two hours, so it seems unlikely. I watched hbomberguy's video on why Pathologic is genius (it was quite the trip - I usually watch things of that length on 1.5-2x speed, but I watched that at normal pace) then happened across Joanna's Musings post on Routine.

I'm... Today has been weird.

Last night I picked the middlest up from the big local city and took him and KT with their child to Pokemon at my favourite local vegan game cafe. Tilly warned me a debrief was incoming from the time she had spent with KT and... I don't think KT is trying to romantically entangle me, but Tilly wasn't far off-base. Veronica was also struggling and, because of my outing myself and thus becoming more of a friend, I came in for some of that struggle and... I am not very well equipped to help others through struggles.

Especially when the uncomfortable truth was that, yes, Veronica was in the wrong and needed to be gently told what she was being told, gently, by the people she was upset by for telling her that. Middlest also had a poor night results-wise and needed support. It was, thus, a hard night.

Today... ran away from me. I have got next to nothing done. After taking the middlest home I didn't even fully change and dress - I had intended to go for a walk, but the clouds came in and the temperature dropped and wearing shorts seemed suddenly like a bad idea. So I watched video essays, changed into my black jeggings for tea, ate some Thai-style green curry chicken with rice and... messed myself up emotionally.

Today has been weird.

I like this look, I do, but it would
need trainers to work.

Or some way of not looking like a dick
in heels.
I'm still looking forward to tomorrow night - the chance to meet with the in person support group for only the second time - but I am worried about what to wear. I don't want to wear the same ensemble as last time - a girl can't be seen as a one-trick pony - but I also don't want to be 'incomplete' with my jeans or jeggings but no trainers to match. Or trainers at all, really, I have walking shoes for trails as my choice and they are brown - hardly matching. I could wear my new dress, but I wore that to the Pokemon night and, well, it might be colder. I could wear the dungaree dress but it's really short (being size 12 and I'm more usually size 14) and well... I also don't want to come across as someone who is flaunting or... I dunno. It seems like I'd need leggings rather than tights. But, equally, my t-shirts need something... else if I wear them with skirts rather than jeans or jeggings. Basically, my shoes are... not easily matched. Also, my new dress from Next is- well, it reveals that the designers thought someone in size 14 dresses needed a bigger than B cup bust. My blue dress is from Papaya (I forget which chain that is a designer for, Debenhams?) and struggles to contain B cup stuffing at size 14. Eh, I don't know. My hair is long enough to be annoying but too short to style. My make-up game extends to mascara and lip-stick and we'll be wearing face-masks so only the mascara counts and I don't have any eye shadow (a game I really want to learn, I am fascinated by eye make up and always have been - the ultimate in wanting to be rather than see).

And I've sat here, with a break for tea cooking, since 1300 hours and I'm typing here at 2148. Continuing to punish myself with the dating website, ruminating on how I'm going to maintain professional distance from a slightly worrying KT having had a debrief with Tilly on the subject (yeah, KT was odd last night and... odder today) and not knowing what to do. Last night Veronica asked if I would attend Pokemon soon as myself again. She called me Joanna and... I liked that. No one has called me that out loud in the real world and... I liked it.

Today has been weird.

I also spent last night, and most of today, realising that I sound like Matt bloody Berry in Toast of London at the moment. I'm trying too hard with my voice.


But, and this is important, I'm back to the circling that doubt again. Like, what am I trying to achieve here? Is the aim to socially transition? Am I just a cross-dresser after all, what if I am not a trans-woman? What if I am in danger of embarrassing the real community with my fumbling and failures? What if I'm doing that thing that I know I do when I learn something new and just diving in? That ripping off of the band aid without thought and just doing it can also be seen as destructive and dangerous. I mean, I want to turn up to the Pokemon night after going to see my mother with the eldest two children as Joanna, as myself, I do. But what if that isn't actually me. What if I am just bloody Matt Berry?


You need to watch it around 4 minutes in to get the full effect. I don't know really.

Two days after going to the in-person
support group. Maybe longer.

Before shaving, in case that wasn't
immediately obvious.
In my last entry I was struggling through having watched the video on Envy and ruminating on how that may have coloured my interactions since as long as I can remember. There is something to that, I feel, and there is something in the fact that I view my sexuality as irrevocably linked to my identity and, well, possibly my gender too. I heard, on a video on YouTube granted, that there are people out there who never ever question their gender. They never feel at odds with what seems to them to be a clear fact of life. Not the stereotypes that society pushes, most people question that I would argue, but the very foundation and bedrock of that societal understanding of what it is to be themselves - they never question it.

I remember, at University, reading a site called Brunching Shuttlecocks. One of the contributors would do film reviews, among other things, and make regular references to how all guys secretly wanted to be a princess with the dresses and the frills and the tea sets. It was part of the humour, I guess. And I was always comforted by that. It meant that I fitted the masculine mould, I kinda knew where I fit and I didn't need to worry about it. Real Life comics was similar in that the main character, Greg, would regularly make reference to his masculinity as a burden and joke around about gender switching - making it seem perfectly normal and fine. It was comforting. Well, Mae Dean came out and transitioned in real life and then in Real Life the comic. I do not know what happened to the contributor to Brunching Shuttlecocks. But a similar trajectory was followed by Abigail Thorn (admittedly I only found out in retrospect) and... I got to wondering how much that has happened out there and how much that throws into relief my comfort back in the day from thinking that this was just 'normal male stuff' and that it meant I didn't have to worry about being a trans-woman (or whatever the equivalent terms were back then). Because, of course, it wasn't confimation that I wasn't trans.

But, at the same time, I've lived this long, right? Was destroying my marriage, my relationship, my only real chance of a loving and intimate relationship with a human being I respected and who could grow to respect me - was that not enough? What else can I hope to achieve with transition? I can't afford to go private, I can barely afford the clothes let alone make-up. And the time? Do I really think that a system that made me wait three years for an appointment about ASD diagnosis is going to react anything other than glacially slowly for gender? Hell, there are people going to the clinics in London waiting nine years for a first appointment (which is: fill in form, see you in six months) and... I'm 41. What in the name of all that is holy am I expecting here?


Today has been weird.

4 comments:

  1. "...Am I just..."

    I don't think anyone is 'just a X' - whatever X is. People are, IMO, beautifully complex and rich.

    Plus, so what if you're happy switching between different modes? Who is to say what's right or isn't? Just .. there's that word again... do what works for you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Lynn.

      I know, rationally, that you are correct. I think my worry about embarrassing a community, in the style of dc Talk's "What if I stumble", speaks more of the irrational fears of someone who has always felt like they didn't fit in. Hence my fixation on labels.

      That and the unfolding comments over at Clare Flourish's blog post on the Bible when I was writing this - "FIRE the Nu-Killer weapoNS!"

      One thing I know helped (in case it wasn't obvious) was the in person support group meeting the following evening to this (in case you'd like to know more).

      DOWN Peris-Scope.

      Delete
    2. A friend once said to me: "you can only do your best with what you know, what you have, and where you are right now. It may be different later."

      So, FWIW, just do what you can with what you know now and please don't worry about embarrassing a community. I think we all wobble a bit when we start off or when we push ourselves. It's just part of the learning curve.

      Delete
    3. Sage and powerful words. Thank you.

      Delete

All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!