Shooting Rapids Without A Paddle

Apartment Hunting

2012-02-11T10:44:00.001-08:00

I have been in my current apartment for more than 2-1/2 years -- the longest I've lived in one place as a single person. It's a nice little apartment; it fits my puppy, Xena, and me really well. When I came out this was the place I moved to. The location is really good; easy access to the freeway and shopping.

But my life has evolved with new activities and new friends. I am now spending $350-$400 a month driving to the Eastside to see my Second Daughter and other friends. So I am looking for a new place to live, hopefully between Redmond and Issaquah.

I have to be a little smarter about what I'm looking for. The apartment must have a washer/dryer hookup and must have a bathroom bigger than a postage stamp. A nice kitchen with lots of cupboard space and electrical outlets is something else I'm looking for.

I know I'm going to spend more money for anything I find and I will probably eat up the savings in gas with the new rent. But a perq of the new place will be much less time in the car and more time with my friends.

- Shannon Tucker
"It takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are."
e. e. cummings

Location:132nd St SW,Everett,United States

I'm a Lucky Woman

2012-02-07T22:18:00.000-08:00

The weekend had been painful; mostly self-inflicted. The therapy session had been helpful, but I managed to turn it into another tool of self-torture.

I walked in to her place, gave her a hug and a kiss onna cheek like I always do. And like always, I started to pull away. But she didn't let go of the hug. If anything she held me closer, held me tighter. Surprised, I sank further into her arms and started to choke up. I started to have those little pre-sobs. Somehow, for no good reason I could think of, I managed not to cry. Eventually [much too soon] we broke the embrace and moved on to more mundane things.

When the [too short] evening was over, we started our good byes. Another hug and a kiss onna cheek like we do. And again, she doesn't let me break off. She holds me tight. And again I start to cry on her shoulder. When we finally let go, I said, "I am a lucky woman!"

And she replied, "So am I!"

I love my daughter and will forever thank Poppa for her warm, loving presence in my life.

Wanting to be Wanted

2012-02-07T21:47:00.000-08:00

So … at my therapy session yesterday we talked about the years of being a woman in her prime that I gave up for my First Daughter and Son, that they might have as close to a "normal" childhood or, at least, a childhood that they didn't have to deal with their father the transsexual.

And what did I give up?

I was in better health in those days and it is reasonable to think that my transition would have been different. Perhaps I could have had hormone replacement therapy I wasn't diabetic then and wouldn't have had other health issues that would have held up my GCS.

I gave up a dynamic and powerful time in a woman's life; a time of being attractive, desirable and vibrant. I would not have been beautiful or glamorous, but much more attractive; someone who would have caught the eye of somebody who wanted to know me better.

I know I am a catch. I am not hard to look at for a woman of nearly 60. I am a sweet, sensitive, caring and kind person. I have a nurturing and empathetic spirit.

At 60, a woman with my qualities makes a great … Mom or Gramma.

I have a card on my door that asks, "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?" My answer has been 36 and sometimes 43. And because I haven't been living my true self very long, the middle 30's isn't an unreasonable description of my spiritual and emotional age. The women I hang out with most of the time are in their 30's. Women in their 30's are who I am attracted to. But these wonderful people, that I love dearly, don't see me as a peer. They see me as a middle-aged Mom. A mom they love and cherish and respect, but a mom. Or an older sister-type of person.

The women, attracted to women, more my age see me as a woman and respect me as a friend, but when it comes to dating? They see me still as a man.

It would seem that the people I want to date either see me as a mom or as a man.

My dating pool resembles a mud puddle in the Arizona sun.

What I Did For Love ...

2012-01-31T09:11:00.000-08:00

I visit my Second Daughter on Monday's. Tonight, she made a simple salmon dinner with brown rice, which works well with my diabetes. It was a very good dinner. After dinner, she showed me the proofs of her photo shoot. She's doing some amateur modeling and she's very excited about it. She should be. She is a very, Very beautiful young woman. The proofs she showed me were outstanding!

I haven't had the best day. I'm feeling old, forgotten, unlovely, and undesirable. When I was Debra's age, I wouldn't have been anywhere near as beautiful as she is, but... but... It doesn't really matter.

I gave up my best years so my First Daughter and my Son could have something like a normal Dad.

Tonight... tonight I am feeling the loss of those years, the times when I might have been beautiful and desirable.

It hurts...

It aches...

Debra and Families of Choice

2011-09-19T13:44:00.000-07:00

Dr. Kathleen Roberts wrote a short article titled "Family of Choice" in early September, 2009. [Another good article is "Families of Choice" by Cynthia W. Lubow, MFT.] At the time she posted this article, I was in my second week of living my life as the woman I always wanted to be — after 54 years of trying to be the son, brother, husband, Dad, and man everyone thought I should be. It is not just GLBT youth who suddenly find themselves without the family structure they’ve always known. My wife, who remains a friend, and my daughter and my son did not want the me I truly am in the family anymore.

It is my opinion that family, the support, continuity and love of those around you, is critical to good mental and spiritual health. In the "Queer" community, where so many of us are denied the love and comfort of the family we were born into, "Families of Choice" are common. For some it's a conscious creation and others just gravitate to a family of choice. But it's not just the Queer community. Runways and disaffected youth, street kids form their own families. And it has been going on for years. Charles Dickens wrote of it in "Oliver Twist."

Debra and I at Tully's 2009

I muddled through with the support of people in my gender support group, the Washington Gender Alliance. In late October, a young woman, newly out, showed up at a meeting. She told her story -- she’d been locked out and disowned by her family the night of her 28th birthday. Debra and I connected and we would hang out at our favorite Tully's coffee shop. I would give her what wisdom I could and jokingly call it “Motherly advice.” We continued to hang out, txt, and IM for the next couple months. I told her that I kinda thought of her as a daughter and was that ok? And yeah that was ok — by the end of January she’s calling me “Momma.” At the time it was still a light thing and somewhat tongue-in-cheek. I woke up one morning in February to a request on Facebook to include her officially as my daughter and I did, honored to do so. When I scheduled some minor genital reassignment surgery, she made it plain that she wanted to go with me to keep me company. Since that time there has been no question that she is my daughter and I’m her mom. When someone asked recently if we were related by blood, I simply told the truth, “She is the Daughter-of-my-Heart!”

My First Mothers Day

We have been through a lot together. We have both been hurt by our respective families of origin and we've both been there for each other in those times. She has had her setbacks dating and I've been there for her. I have had my setbacks with finding work or with my hormones for my transition and she has been there for me. When either of us is out late for some social occasion, we always txt each other "Home safe" when we finally get home.

I love to cook dinner for her and she loves my Chicken Adobo! Debra makes the best enchiladas I've ever eaten. We have had a lot of quiet evenings just watching a movie together, or she would do her cross-stitching or her scrapbook and I would write on my laptop. I looked up at her on evening and said, "I love our little family." And she replied, "So do I."

Oregon coast Road Trip

She's taught me to love Mexican food and we have both come to really appreciate a good Sangria.

We went on a road trip together last year to the Oregon Coast and almost never left the Tillamook Cheese Factory. We watched my puppy, Xena, run all over the sand at Cannon Beach. In August, we went to Leavenworth, Washington for a weekend getaway and had a marvelous time.

She was there for my first Mother's Day and my second. We have shared Easter together. We shared Black Friday, which was a tradition in my family, last year and will share Thanksgiving and Black Friday again this year. She stayed overnight Christmas Eve and we watched "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation," a tradition in her family. She spent Christmas morning and breakfast with me. We are planning a pre-Christmas trip to Leavenworth together.

Leavenworth

She asked me to go with her to San Mateo earlier this year when she had her Gender Confirmation Surgery. And when I have mine next year, she will go with me to help with my recovery.

Through all of it, there have been all of the moments that make up family: the tears, the laughter, the heartbreak and the joy, the hugs, the smiles and, always, always, always, the love.

And there are others that I now count as part of my family. Johanna, Kayla and Amy will be with us for Thanksgiving. Annabelle is new to the family but a dear place in my heart. Maddie is my best friend. Zoey is an original in "My Girls." Lisa is a brand new sister to me.

Easter 2011

I am a survivor. I muddle through. But I have no imagination of how I would have come through the last 18 months, almost 2 years, without Debra. Recently, after I told an Aunt about Debra and what she means to me, my Aunt wondered how I could come to a place where this new person was equal in my heart to my two blood children in such a short time? Beyond simply telling her that my God, Poppa, brought us together, I knew I had to write about Families of Choice. For Debra and I came to a place where our hearts chose each other to be a family together. And our family just is.

A Season to Reflect -- Thoughts On Surviving Suicide

2011-09-14T10:59:00.000-07:00

August-September is a time for me to think back on many parts of my life.

I was married to a wonderful woman in August many years ago.

My First Daughter, my Pride and Joy! who I miss so dearly, was born in September.

I separated from my wonderful wife in August 2 years ago to begin my life as my true self.

I went to the hospital to treat blood clots in my lungs in September 2 years ago.

And a young woman I had not yet met tried to kill herself because the men in her church told her she would be better off a dead man than alive as a woman. By Poppa's Great Grace, she survived. Many, too many, of us do not survive. In a study released this year, a little more than 4 in 10 transgender and gender-nonconforming people are suicide survivors. Survivors! I have not seen any statistics of how many of us did not survive. Sometimes I wonder how it is I survived.

I have never been someone the psycho/social professional community would classify as actively suicidal. But that community discounts or only gives passing acknowledgment that addictive, self-medicating behaviors are ultimately a form of suicide. There are other ways to die than to stop breathing or have the heart stop beating.

I am an addict. A recovering addict, but still an addict.

On another level, I knew I could have been actively suicidal. And I believe I would not have survived if I had made a physical attempt to kill myself. This is the very good reason I won't own a gun. It would be my method of choice to kill myself. I have imagined it too many times in my low points to have any doubts. I would put on a pretty dress, do my makeup, do my hair, put on my jewelry and my heels, sit down in my rocking chair, put the pistol, a military 9mm, to my left breast and pull the trigger. There would be a note, "Sorry for the mess I've made."

More than that, though, when my constant prayers that Poppa take this "curse" as I thought of it then, away and cure me seemed to be unfulfilled, my prayers turned to "Please take me Home!" I wanted to die. I asked Poppa to end my suffering, to end the suffering of my wife, to end the suffering of my children and help me die, to take me Home. I made this prayer to Poppa nearly every night for many, many years. And I prayed it almost as often during the day.

Poppa did not see fit to grant that prayer.

Sometime after I began to live my life as my true self, I met the young lady who had tried to kill herself. We became very good friends. She, Debra, became my Second Daughter. We have no secrets between us. I told her about my prayer and she made me promise never to ask Poppa to take me home again. She said she needed me for the next 30 years. And I promised.

So I have survived. Still, I sometimes wonder how? But more I wonder why Poppa has kept me here. What is it I do or have yet to do to show how much He Loves us?

It has been a very great Grace-thing Poppa has given me to have had a small part in Debra's very beautiful story. She's been every bit the butterfly!

One of those days in my life …

2011-09-01T06:50:00.000-07:00

I am going into see my therapist later this morning. We will do some catch-up. It has been since early April since I saw her last.

But the big thing that will happen tomorrow is we will talk over my decision to have Gender Confirmation Surgery (GCS) and she will write a letter to Dr. Toby Meltzer recommending me for GCS. When that is done and I have sent Dr. Meltzer a down payment, I should get a date for my surgery. I should get a date to make my body right with my heart and mind.

This hasn't been a trivial decision. I do not need to have this surgery to continue living. I can, literally, live without it. But it would cost me. It would cost me a satisfaction with who I physically am. It would cost me the continued disconnect between who I am at my heart and the way I have to present. Yes, no one sees my penis anymore than the would be able to see my vagina. But I would KNOW! And I would like to live my day walking around and not remember, not think of what was between my legs... or not.

A difficult blog to write...

2011-08-24T10:30:00.000-07:00

Last October, when I had to go on insulin, I asked my endocrinologist [for my diabetes only] if I could go on estrogen. He sent me to an Everett Clinic hematologist who ran like $3500 worth of labs on me to determine why I had blood clots before and if it would be likely I would get them again if I was on estrogen. Most of my blood tests came back clean. We discovered that I am heterozygous [the only way I am hetero] for a gene that promotes clots in the veins or Deep Vein Thrombosis [DVT's]. That means that of two genes that I could have that would increase the likelihood of DVT's I only have one. That translates to a increase of 2-8 times the probability of DVT's compared to people who don't have this gene. The hematologist was not concerned about this and any estrogen therapy I might start. She was concerned about an indication of particular antibodies that can cause blood clots in the heart which are much more likely to travel to the brain and cause strokes. Antibodies can go away. We tentatively scheduled a retest for the Spring of 2011. I have no medical insurance and a lot of my health issues took a hit this year to save dollars; this test was one of those things that got put off. August 10th [my Mom's birthday] I went in for my lab draw for this antigen test. I was told it would be 3 to 5 days before the labs came back.

The weekend of the 13th, my 2nd Daughter and I went to Leavenworth, Washington to have some time just us and get away from a lot of the things we'd been busy with at home. We had a fabulous time! In the middle of all this, I haven't been sleeping really well and when I would wake up at night, one thing I do is check my email on my smart phone. Sunday morning, I saw that the labs had been posted. I looked at them and wasn't really sure what they said. Back to trying to sleep. Around 4, I woke up again, checked my email again, and checked my labs one more time. I was pretty sure I understood what was there and again went back to sleep. I'd tell my daughter in the morning, before I said anything to anybody else. I was ok. No big deal. I knew this was a possibility.

I got up and cleaned up and waited for Sleeping Beauty [or is it Rapunzel?]. She was up and got her shower and was getting ready for the day when I stuck my face in and told her the labs were back. She had a concerned look on her face and I told her, "I can't go on estrogen, the labs were positive."

She said, "I'm sorry, momma."

I replied, "Doesn't change the woman I am. I've been post-menopausal for a year and a half. Doesn't make me any less your mom."

"No, it doesn't."

Have I said that I love this child?

So I let her get back to making herself pretty [which is as redundant a statement as I can think of] and I go and sit down on the bed.

And started to choke up.

And I started to sob.

The things my heart doesn't tell my head …

As I am weeping for my loss, these strong, warm, loving arms wrap me up and and her head lays on my shoulder and she holds me like I'll die if she doesn't. And she let me sob my heart out.

I didn't know …

I really did not know how much I had hoped to go on the estrogen!

I had no idea how much that hope meant to me!

And it was gone …

On Monday, I called the hematologist to confirm what I read in the labs. She told me she really, Really, REALLY could not recommend I go on estrogen therapy! She did tell me if I decided to go on estrogen therapy, she would Insist! I go on the blood thinner, coumadin. I knew beforehand coumadin therapy would not be a guarantee that I wouldn't have clots and has it's own problems. She left it up to me.

It is surprising how painful no-brainer decisions can be.

I knew that Sunday when I told my daughter that I couldn't go on estrogen that I would have to blog this. I have so many friends pulling for me wanting to know how things have gone. I would have to say something! But it has taken me ten days! to get to a place where I can write about it. And even now my eyes are brimming with my tears. Hope dies hard!

I am a 58-year-old, post-menopausal woman. I will not be dieing to have my estrogen. I can _live_ with this. But it hurts.

A Tangible Step...

2011-08-06T17:34:00.000-07:00

The consultation with Dr. Meltzer went very, Very well.

Once I got there.

No one at the conference knew anything about any consultations that Dr. Meltzer might or might not be doing. This was actually a good thing for my nerves. I could get a little miffed at the snafu. Eventually, the Gender Odyssey people told me that Dr. Meltzer was doing consultations at his hotel. By the time I got to his hotel [a couple of blocks away so no big deal] my nerves were a little jangled again. I call and am told to come up to the floor and they'll call me when they're ready. So, I'm just about to settle in to this incredibly plush chair and continue reading my nook [A Game of Thrones] when a woman opens a door and calls my name.

I go in and there are two women working at lap tops at the desk and a third woman who gets up and greets me. Then I'm introduced to Dr. Meltzer. He is a very pleasant presence and I am put at ease right away. We sit down and tell him a bit about what I'm thinking and my concerns about my blood clots and my diabetes. I tell him that my PCP feels my diabetes will not be an issue when I get my A1c under 8 and that my clots aren't an issue either. He tells me under 8 is a good idea and that for patients with a history of clots he keeps them on a low dose of heparin for longer after the surgery. He hasn't had a patient with clots after surgery for years. He is very, very easy to talk to. His staff seemed extremely efficient. They had a package ready for me before I left and I will get an email package later in the week.

And it was over.

I was not nervous at all when I was talking to him. But going back down the elevator my feelings came back full force. Not from being anxious, but from relief and hope and joy and a positive expectation. Had I been at home instead of the lobby of a posh hotel, I would have come unglued and sobbed my heart out. Sometimes I am as surprised as I can be to find I have been keeping feelings under lock-and-key, hidden away from even myself. Before the consultation, I would have told you that GCS was something I wanted but I would have said from a logical point-of-view that I can live without it, just fine! And I would have believed my own words. After today, I know how much I want this. I know how much I need to be right in my body. I need the confirmation of this surgery. There is still a strong yearning? an ache? in my breast from the consultation and the hope I now have.

Yesterday's Pride Dance

2011-07-10T08:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was really fun! I went to a workshop "How to Look and Feel Sexy." I came away from that with a lot more confidence and put it to work almost immediately. I picked up a friend of me in Lynnwood and we drove to Bellingham for the 4Women Women's Pride dance, [B'ham has their Pride Parade today] I had decided earlier in the day that I was going to dress up and do my hair and makeup for the dance. Because of the time constraints, I got ready for the dance before the workshop. At the workshop I received really good feedback about my style and how I carried myself, including several comments from the other women there about how they wished they could move as well as I did in the high heels I was wearing [3.5-4"]. That felt really good!

From there I picked up my friend, Sam and we had a really good conversation while going up to Bellingham.

We walked into the room and I really felt good and confident. It has been a long time since I felt that positive going to the dance. I got on the dance floor by myself and just started to flow with the music. There was one other woman on the floor and she looked at me with this expression, "Hot Damn! Work it, woman!" expression and I danced over to her and we finished out the number together. I felt so confident, so positive! during other dances I would glance over to the crowd sitting off the dance floor and see these big smiles from people I didn't know watching me. And they weren't laughing-at-me smiles but I could feel their approval and happiness? for me.

The whole night went like that! I had a really good time! There isn't going to be jeans-tennies-and-T for for this Femme at the dances any more!

Half a bottle of Port

2011-07-03T23:59:00.000-07:00

I should not finish off half a bottle of tawny port by myself ...
I do not drink often
I don't make good decisions when I drink
but I do love my port

but being tipsy or more
tonight
is not a good thing

it has made the hunger
for touch
and the ache in my arms
and my breasts

to become a need,
to become the aching, starving cry

for someone

to hold me
to cradle me in their arms
to rock me

to make the hunger
to make the hunger go away

this is not about a lover
this is not about a partner
it is not about sex or making love

it is about
being touched
it is about
connecting

To be who I truly am ...

2011-06-26T07:55:00.000-07:00

My favorite quote is from e. e. cummins, "It takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are."

For a very long time I knew that who the world saw when they looked at my life was not who I truly was in my heart. And when I heard the e. e. cummins quote I was ashamed. Ashamed because I knew I didn't have the courage to be who I really am. But I clung to the quote and it has been in my .sig files for 15+ years.

Today ... today, some would say I've "turn(ed) out to be who I really am." But I have not finished my journey. Everyday is a struggle to be who I really am. Everyday I fight the desire, the siren call, the need to be who others want me to be. There is safety there. I don't have to be brave anymore. I don't have to stand in the fire. Yes, it calls to me!

But I cannot go back! "Back" was an unreality. And "Normal" is something that I can never reclaim without going into hiding. Where do I hide from my self? It is a lie that the pain I feel now will be gone. The specific pains? maybe, but there will be pain and hurt still and the shame that I turned my back on who I really am.

It catches me funny sometimes when I think about it, but I am -PROUD- of who I am!

A Hard Day

2011-06-22T21:00:00.000-07:00

It was not a very good day.

Some relationship issues and then I had to withdraw the last of the IRA I've been living on and sell off the stock I had hoped to pay for my surgery with. Coming home from that, I contacted a friend who has been following my application for work. He said they'd hired everyone already and my application didn't get a look. Had a very long sad cry about that. I guess I didn't know just how much getting a job there had come t mean to me. Almost three years without work just because I told my supervisor I am a transsexual. They fired me for something else, of course, but it was because I came out.

I am hurting really bad. So many losses the last couple years! I didn't feel like it was an emotionally safe thing for me to do to go out tonight. So I stayed home and watched Harry Potter.

In Harm's Way

2011-06-10T11:06:00.000-07:00

Today and this weekend is an anxious time for me.

I am going camping near Rainier with a Car Camping meetup group. For the first time. I am not out to them. And after the rejection of Wednesday, I am very hesitant to put my bruised heart on the line again. I have had three meltdowns this morning. Why do I have to put my heart on the line? Why can't this be easier? I deserve better than this treatment! Why can't people just let me be me?

ALL! All I EVER! wanted to be was the "Girl Next Door."

I like the nickname SweetShannon because of the alliteration. But mostly it is who I want to be. I want to be a sweet and gentle woman, perhaps a lady, that everyone is comfortable with and, hopefully, somewhat attached to.

And again, I am putting my heart on the line and I am scared. I don't do rejection well. And I do not want to go there or hide safely in my shell. But I cannot live without putting my heart in harm's way. And I pray Poppa is with me and keeps my heart safe if not unbruised.

I Just Want To Be Me!

2011-06-08T17:00:00.000-07:00

It has been a disappointing and painful afternoon for me. I am .. was .. a member of a meetup group that was about dealing with empty nest syndrome. After I came out, separated and divorced, I have only my adopted daughter for family. It is a bittersweet thing to see her growing up and into her life. I am proud of her. So I sought out this group for support. I was not out to them. At least, not that I knew of.

At last weeks walk and talk, one of the women commented on my children that don't talk to me, "The children that you bore!?!?!" I responded, "uh, my flesh and blood." But I was immediately uneasy. Carrying and bearing a child is [or should be] a privilege and an honor to my way of thinking and I had not earned that honor. I haven't born any children. It seemed wrong to me to let her think so.

We came to a place where we could stop for a moment and I asked everyone to let me get something said. I came out to them. It seemed really good and ok the rest of the day. I got some good questions about my life and my process. I answered them as straightforward as I could. Everything seemed OK.

Today I got an email from one of the organizers asking me to not come back. I was making people upset. And she had already removed me from the group. It hurt .. hurts like when you've been dumped for no good reason just as you were beginning to like the guy. Hurts a lot.

I know, in my head, that it isn't really about me. For all their money and education, they don't know much of anything and even less, how to ask real questions about life.

Where I am really struggling is in my Pollyanna world I want to go where I want to go and be able to be me. If no one knows my history, fine. If someone asks about my history, I'll let them know. But if I am going to get rejection? do I out myself first and change all assumptions about me? or do I go stealth and take the chance after I fall in love with the people, the event, the whatever, I would get rejected like some poor relation discovered with a bad birth defect?

I just want to be me! I've paid a price to be who I want to be in this society. I paid my taxes, I voted, I raised my kids to be people who take care of their own responsibilities, I served my country in the armed services. I deserve better than this!

A letter to my cousin ...

2011-05-20T19:47:00.000-07:00

My Dad's side of the family has been having a reunion every 2 or 3 years since the middle eighties. This summer they are having another reunion. I have decided not to go. My cousin in California, more-or-less the Patriarch at this time, has been gently talking to me about coming to the reunion.

This is my response to him:

I have -never- doubted your love and support. And it pains me to not be there. My Poppa knows my heart, [1 Samuel 16:7] and He knows I am pretty much who I have always been. And He knows that I love Him and I love my Brother, the One Who Loves me. It pains me that I am not able to give my family the opportunity to see me and know me spirit to spirit. But now is not the time. My children are not able to see my heart right now. And there are others, and we both know who they are, who wont ever see my heart or know my spirit. The latter, I am just sad for. Sad because the god they worship fits in a box they have defined. And my God, my Poppa, is bigger than any box they can imagine.

My children, though, I have decided not to push whatsoever. And it is hard. They are not ready to open their hearts and see with their Spirit that I am still their Dad, the Dad they have always known. I miss them terribly. I am very lonely for them.

Again, though, Poppa has provided. Poppa brought a young woman into my life who had been disowned by her parents. We became friends, then good friends. I told her once that I thought of her as a daughter. Within the month she started calling me "Momma." It was light and tongue-in-cheek at first, but Poppa knew our hearts and our needs. She is the Daughter-of-My-Heart, my Daughter-In-Love. We have gone through a lot together. I have told B and J of her because, no longer needing to keep my true self secret, I really don't like keeping any secrets and the subject of my Daughter-In-Love felt like a secret. But my adopted daughter takes nothing away from B or J. And I am Dad to them as I am Mom to her. Sue and Jodi met her when they met me as Shannon the first time. Someday I would like for her to come to the reunion, too, but it is in Poppa's hands. Oh! in the original picture that I sent you, she is to my right.

Again, thank you for your love and support and understanding.

The dance

2011-05-14T21:36:00.001-07:00

It's not a good night. Just plain, not a good night.

- Forgiveness is the scent the Rose leaves on the heel that crushes it

But Never A Mom

2011-05-08T17:04:00.000-07:00

Mother’s Day 2011

Dedicated to Poppa and a special young woman….

For a long time I have wanted to be a woman. In all those years, with all that longing, I never considered being a mom. In the early years, I thought about being a wife to a husband. But never a mom. As I came to understand myself better and understood that a woman could be a partner to another woman, I thought about being a wife. But never a mom. At my age I have been reluctant to be involved with another woman with a child at home. I could not see myself as a mom to another woman’s child. When I began my transition, when I began to live a real life, full time, all the time, I had simple visions of what my life as a woman would be. But in my visions, I was never a mom.

Very shortly after coming out and beginning to live a life true to myself, Poppa introduced me to a young woman who had lost her parents. We became friends. We drank a lot of Tully’s. I would encourage her, be a sounding board, and when she needed advice, I gave her the best advice I could give.

We grew closer over time. I found myself thinking of her as a daughter. And I told her so. Soon she was calling me momma. It seemed a little bit of a joke between us but it became a real connection very quickly.

Sometimes I feel that it takes a lot of nerve on my part, a lot of presumption, for me to claim to be a mom -- I am a woman untimely born. I did not think of being a mother or a mom growing up like most girls. But I have found myself loving this young woman as a daughter and parenting her as best I know how. If my spirit is in fact a woman’s spirit and I have been a parent to her, then I guess maybe I am a mom.

Poppa has given me with this young woman to love, to be the daughter of my heart. Only by His Grace am I a woman. And by His Grace, forever a mom.

No One Knows My Heart

2011-05-06T08:44:00.001-07:00

The Crevasse

2011-05-02T11:59:00.000-07:00

hanging near the end of my rope
in this dark place
an unseen crack in the world
heart-numbingly cold
fingers
and hands
and arms
and every muscle
aching with the effort to hold on
fatigued with the
cold
unfeeling
loneliness
that wraps it's fingers of ice
around my battered
unwanted
abandoned
dying heart
looking down into the consuming blackness
that promises to end the pain that hope brings
no whisper
of a ghost
of a vision
of rescue
to desperately grasp
and hold on for

Getting to long needed chores

2011-04-18T13:13:00.001-07:00

I've closed the bank account I had at the bank my ex banks at. I hadn't been active with it for a long time and it needed to be closed. They are good people and they saw me go from a man to a woman. They never failed to treat me as a woman. I just wasnt comfortable banking there because of my ex. She never gave me any trouble about it -- it just felt like "her" bank.

And now I'm opening a new account at a major credit union. "Michael" used to have an account here years ago. I will gradually shift my banking here. Their services are better than the bank I'm currently doing most of my banking. But the credit union is large and it isn't as personal as my current bank.

I'm going to talk to Worksource this week about getting work they are supposed to have a program to help with getting on with Boeing. And then ... and then I have to just start dropping off apps.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Evergreen Way,Everett,United States

The Second Wednesday

2011-03-23T09:06:00.000-07:00

Yesterday didn't start out so well. She had problems peeing and for a time it seemed she' d have to have the catheter re-inserted. Emotionally, this would have been a major set-back and we really struggled through the morning. She decided to wait and see how the day worked out. Peeing was never easy but it did get better. Her outlook improved as the day went on and it turned out to be a good day.

She dressed herself really nice yesterday; first time since before surgery. Skirt, makeup, did her hair and. of course, her heels. She looked great!

She took me out to lunch at a restaurant I'd found close by, Mimi's Cafe. It has a nice atmosphere and the food is good. She gave me a very lovely card for my birthday. [I still choke up over it just thinking about it.] It seems Mimi's doesn't make much on their lunch menu that doesn't have bread or wheat in it and Debra had to send things back, until they got things right. We had a nice time...

When we got back to the hotel, she received a text from the young woman who had been to Dr. Bowers the day after her and had been a housemate at Gwen's. Johanna wanted to now if we'd like to meet them for lunch! At Mimi's! :-) I suggested that maybe they would like to come over here for dinner? I was planning for Tuesday or Wednesday evening to make my chicken adobo. So last night I made my adobo on a glorified hotplate and we sat on the4 beds, talked and had a really good time. Debra opened her champagne and we dished up the ice cream and berries they'd brought for dessert. We toasted the new girls and enjoyed. It was a very good evening.

We both slept to almost 8 this morning. She didn't sleep that well and was up several times during the night. The beds and, particularly, the pillows here are ... not really comfortable. And she is still healing and dealing with body issues. I asked her how the peeing was and she told me it is more difficult than most of yesterday, but she's working through it. Some of her friends online told her it can be more difficult in the morning. She has woken up with a really great attitude! It is so nice to see her smile and hear her laugh again! She's singing with her Country and Pop [actually it's her Coping playlist: Trans themed and working through life] while she's making herself prettier [she's always, always pretty to me]. When it's my turn, I'm listening to my Kingston Trio and Peter, Paul and Mary [and not the ones in the Bible, either!].

Tuesday Morning, 7:30AM -- One week later

2011-03-22T07:35:00.000-07:00

Today seems no different than any other day, and yet, today seems like a different universe. This time a week ago they were taking Debra in to surgery.

She is up showering this morning. She woke at 7 and did her dilation. She slept ok most of the night, but woke up with some headache pain around 4 and her bladder isn't comfortable. She feels like she needs to pee but is having trouble actually passing water. Hopefully, this will be better as the day goes on.

Today is my 59th birth day. The last year has been amazing!

A little over a year ago... <sad sigh> the divorce with my wife of 29 years was final; our love couldn't sustain us one way or another through my gender conflict. She is an amazing woman! and still my friend. Her friendship is a gift I am very, very thankful for.

In February, I became a member of the Everett United Church of Christ, an Open and Affirming congregation in Everett, Washington. It has been a pleasure to serve Poppa and The One Who Loves Me, Jesus, in worship with the rest of the congregation at this loving an wonderful church.

A year ago, I had a gender reassignment surgery, no caps because it is not the Gender Confirmation Surgery Debra just came through. A bilateral orchiectomy is considered valid for legal gender reassignment. No longer having any testosterone has made me post-menopausal pretty much the same as any woman in her late 50's.

In April, I bought a puppy, a feisty little black ball of fluff I named Xena, Warrior Princess (in training). She has been a great joy, especially once she calmed down enough to figure out she likes cuddling on my lap in the evening.

Last year, I decided I was going to get back into hiking. I found a Meetup group of people who hike at my speed [a step or two faster than a banana slug] called PNW Leisure Hiking. I wasn't able to do all the hiking I wanted to do but I had fun when I did go and thoroughly enjoy the Gryph! I hope to do more hiking this year.

But my relationship with my Daughter-In-Love, Debra is the high point of the last year-and-a-half. I must! give Poppa all the credit and Glory and Praise for bringing this young woman into my life. I have had very big holes to fill in my life. Poppa knows this. It would have been very easy for me to try to fill them with an inappropriate relationship, a relationship I really am not ready for. So Poppa brings a young woman who needed a parental figure into the life of a woman in need of someone to love in a healthy manner. Our relationship has grown so much and has been the source of great comfort, joy and laughter for both of us. Well, actually, she just loves me for my Chicken Adobo.

I don't know what Poppa has for me this next year. I hope to find work and have enough income that I don't have to live on my Dad's inheritance anymore. I also hope to receive medical benefits with any job I get. The cost of my diabetes meds are really killing me. I want to do more hiking and camping. I want to do more photography. I would like to go fishing more often. And Gender Confirmation Surgery is something I'd like to have done if I can pay for it.

As my girl sleeps

2011-03-16T16:33:00.000-07:00

I am sitting in a hospital recliner/lounge chair watching her try to sleep. She has come through her surgery, the surgery that confirms the gender she has always been. That's why she calls it Gender Confirmation Surgery rather than some variation on "Reassignment." she had some nerves to deal with before we left. Not many or great issues but some. But she has been very calm for the most part and always composed. I'm watching her with the mix of emotions that a parent has when their child is in some pain going through a transition in their life that the child has to go through. There is fear for the unknown and fear for the pain. There are sympathetic pains, too. There is the swirling feelings of hope and concern for the child to pass this test and be stronger and more whole. I am struggling with the helplessness of not being able to do more. Of not being able to make her all better right now. Of not being able to take the pain for her. And I am so! in awe of her. She has had a serenity through all of this that I have never felt in myself and she is moving through all of this like she walks in her 4-inch heels! She hasn't missed a step! and is graceful beyond any word-picture I could try to paint.

This is so right for her! She never was a boy!

This woman who has adopted me as her mom... This woman I have adopted as my daughter! She humbles me! It is only the hand of Poppa! I want to ask what could I have done to deserve such a rich Blessing? And it feels like the Grace Poppa has given me through His Son, my Brother, Jesus. It feels that deep! that rich!

To San Mateo

2011-03-13T11:09:00.000-07:00

We are at 30-something thousand feet in a Boeing 737 about half-way between Seattle and Sn Francisco. Debra is reading Glamour across the aisle as calm as she could be. She is very ready for this. She has been fired up to get her Gender Confirmation Surgery since she went with me to Portland when I got my orchiectomy. Tomorrow she has a pre-op appointment with Dr. Bowers and blood work to do at the hospital. She will be doing bowel prep tomorrow evening. Tuesday morning she goes in and they give her the vagina she has wanted for so long.

I am not so calm. I have lost my confidence, my faith in myself. I know that the life I live now is the life I should be living. It is right for me to be a woman, to live as one. Make me sit down and think about it and I know I'm in the right place. But there is this nagging, niggling ache of uncertainty from moment to moment. I know that some of my doubts come from my financial situation. I am not good and holding to a budget. And I _need_ to live on a budget now. The concerns about my finances change if I can find work. Especially work that pays medical benefits. But I am scared. I don't like to do job hunting. I never have. I can't take the rejection. I cannot deal well with the being told I'm not good enough.

And I simply hate my social situation! I am ok, sometimes embraced, sometimes tolerated in the community of women I hang out in. But I feel close to no one but Debra and Danielle and they have their own lives. I've never been particularly outgoing. I need to really work on meeting people and hanging out with people.

The first morning...

2010-10-01T09:56:00.000-07:00

It was an education last night trying to be comfortable and sleep. I am using my new Big Agnus Lost Ranger sleeping bag. I bought it because it was supposed to be more roomy for a big person like me and give me the coverage and still allow me to sleep on my side. I figured it out and did ok. Should use my regular pillow though. My right shoulder got all achy during the night. I am not sure if that's because of the cold or the work I'd been doing with it or it just decided to be a pain. I need to get some ibuprofen before tonight.

When I got out of the sack [literally] this morning it was COLD! Going to the outhouse, Xena came with me. I was standing outside waiting with some of the school kids to use a toilet, and Xena did fher number one. I remarked, "It must be nice to not need a toilet to relieve yourself." I was really envying her. I hate doing the, "I've got to pee! I've got to pee!' dance.

The kids are packing up and heading out today so I will probably move my campsite to one of the ones vacated by the school. I am going into town to catch a breakfast and see if I can find some wifi. [which I obviously did]

The drive...

2010-09-30T19:30:00.000-07:00

It's a long drive to Winthrop! And for someone trying to keep an eye open for things to take pictures of, going up through the mountains on US20 is an exciting, as in life-threatening, experience. The very scenic road twists and turns and presents all manner of beautiful opportunities to drive off the edge of the mountains! Obviously I didn't do that but I also didn't get any pictures either. There were some places I thought I might stop at on the way back. It also didn't help that I was not sure when I would be able to set up camp and I wanted to do it before sundown. And as my son knows,"It gets dark in the mountains real quick."

I checked out the campground at Early Winters. It was very disappointing. Only 20 or 30 yards from the highway and really sparse. I went back up the highway and went to the Klipchuk campground. Much quieter and suits my tastes better. There is a middle/high school group here on a trip. It will be kinda nice to not be totally alone in the campground. Odd how that makes a difference now that I'm out as a woman :-/ .
Xena was her champ best on the drive. And she wasn't too much of a "help" when I was trying to get the tent set up. The kids all love her when I take her around the campgrounds. And, as usual, she loves them all right back!

Getaway Day

2010-09-30T07:38:00.000-07:00

I have told anyone with ears that I was going to get back into camping. I have spent a fair chunk of change and tons of time trying to be prepared to leave on a whim. I am not leaving on a whim. and I'm not going to be getting onto the road as soon as I had dreamed. I have a few things to take care of this morning before I can leave. Not the least of which is laundry. But I have thought things out reasonably well and I am comfortable with my planning.

I am planning to drive over the North Cascades Highway [US20] and camp somewhere in the Methow [MET-how] valley up stream from Winthrop, Washington. If Early Winters is still open? that will be my first choice of campgrounds. Wherever I end up, I will go into Winthrop and contact my friends so that they know where I am for their own peace of mind and know where to start looking if I don't contact them.
I plan to do some fall photography and the valley will probably be better for that than up toward the pass. But I will be taking pictures everywhere. I am hoping that I can get some fishing done, too, but that is a secondary goal. [somehow the concept of "goal" seems blasphemous for the kind of trip I have in mind.]

This place I have come to ...

2010-09-20T13:49:00.000-07:00

I have been aware of wanting to be a girl most of my life. And most of my life I believed wanting to be a girl was a bad thing. So for most of my life I have wanted Poppa to take me home. I have asked Him and pleaded with Him that if it was not His will and His plan to cure me, to take away this need to be a girl, couldn’t He please, Please, PLEASE?!? take me home? I didn’t want to deal with the shame. I didn’t want the ones I love to deal with my perverted, unclean needs. I wanted to go Home! Now!

I was never actively suicidal. I wanted Poppa to call me home.

I was subtly suicidal, though. Like many people who have suffered chronic pain, particularly emotional pain, I found a way to numb myself. But my self-medicating was slowly killing me emotionally and spiritually. And I didn’t hate what I was doing enough to stop. I was dying by my own hands. I would tell myself I only had to live as long as my mom did [She died at 63] or I only had to make it to 70 [Because Jesus said that it was good for man to live 3 score and ten years.] And those dates could not come soon enough.

A year ago, I came to a lonely and terrible place where I had to tell those I love [And I do still love them all … dearly!] that I had to live a different life; I could not continue to live trying to be someone I was not.

It has been, and still is and always will be, a process, a journey to try to live a life true to who I am. And in this last year, I have still asked Poppa to take me home. But it is not constant and is happening less and less frequently. What I have found is I no longer think of how long must I wait to be “three score and ten.” I no longer count the years to the age my mom died at.

For the first time in my life, I am not in a hurry to die.

Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah

2010-09-20T12:49:00.000-07:00

My cousin sent me a link to an Italian "Free Hugs" video on youtube today. It made me cry. Alot. And the music, the song, Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, moved me hard. I looked it up again and listened to k.d.langs version. I cried a good deal more. I looked up the lyrics so I got it right . I read someone's comments somewhere that Bon Jovi's version was their favorite, so I went there, too. While I was listening and crying to Bon Jovi, I read these lyrics and my ex-wife came to mind. And then the rivers flowed from my eyes.

And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I wasn't very truthful about my gender and there were a lot of lies from there. But I always told the truth about loving her. And when I stand before my Poppa, there will be nothing on my tongue for her but Halleluja.

Defending God's Calling

2010-03-16T13:26:00.000-07:00

As a parent with grown children that choose not to tell me even rudiments of what is going on with their lives, I read their blogs. My son is a poet while studying to be a pastor. He posts his poetry frequently on his poetry blog. His poetry and his blog don't really tell me much of what's going in his head or heart. He will answer email I send him, but it's standard male one-word grunt-speak. That's ok. I used to be fluent in male one-word grunt-speak. Fluency fades quickly if you don't use the language much. Thank God for small miracles :-).

My daughter, my beloved daughter... My daughter does not email with me and only rarely talks to me on the phone because she wants, "to hear my Dad's voice." So read her blog and the churches website to glean what little I can about what is going on in her life.

My daughter is called by God to be a pastor, and called to be a church planter. In 2000, she began college as a Theology major at a local Christian University. From the beginning, she has had to answer the question of what she, as a woman, thought she was doing on a Divinity path. She graduated in Theology, very near the top of her class. She went to a conservative Christian graduate school in Boston to get her Masters of Divinity. She was not well treated there. She left early with a Masters in Christian Education. She finally received her MDiv, but not without challenges to her calling.

About 2 years ago, she was called by a denomination to plant a church. It took some time and a great deal of effort and God's own support, but her little congregation is beginning to fly with wings of angels. Thinking of how Poppa has blessed her ... somehow my darn glasses have gotten wet and I can't see my keyboard. Must be the rain... Anyway, the little church God has given her to shepherd makes an impact all out of proportion to the size of the congregation.

She is new to the denomination which has called her. She is taking advantage of some classes in this denomination's Theology. The other day the question posed to the students was, basically, "How do you address the protest of people in the congregation who believe that women cannot be spiritual leaders." Her initial response to the question is that it needs to be asked, but her heart, I can feel it being twisted and wrung dry, is just breaking that she has to write the same paper she has been writing for 10 years. She laments,

"how deeply i long to never again defend the calling God has placed on my life...and how deeply i know this probably will never end.

i will be writing the same paper as long as God continues to call me to this life."

My heart just breaks for her.

As I thought about her writings, the parallel between my beloved daughter having to defend the Calling on her life to be a woman and a pastor and the Father creating me to be transgender and called to be His servant to the people of His flock. Jesus, the One Who Loves Me, responds to the questions of sin in the life of the man born blind [or born transgender] in John 9:3, Jesus answered, "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.(ESV)" I pray that Poppa uses me for His Glory. Like my daughter, I know I will be defending God's calling on my life to be transgender and to be a part of His loving arms reaching out to the ones he loves.

2010-02-24T14:58:00.000-08:00

Of what use is it to line all your ducks up into a nice neat row meeting all *available* information about what ducks you need and how they are to be presented, when there's a document that says one of your ducks needs to be thus and so and you've never seen or heard of it???

I took pains to make certain that my name and gender change documents for my birth certificate were appropriate and correct. This includes a letter from my Doctor saying I'm receiving "appropriate *medical* care." And this bureaucrat says her guidelines [which I could NOT google or bing anything about even from her own website] require the letter state "appropriate *clinical* care."

Now, from the online Merriam-Webster definitions of clinical and medical, I read them as implying medical is a higher form of care because it implies a doctor is involved where as clinical is only something done at a clinic and doesn't require a doctor.

I'm not happy!

A Sword for the Lord

2010-02-08T10:37:00.000-08:00

A Sword for the Lord's Truth
Is forged, strengthened in fire and
Sharpened over time

How do I be a
Sword of Love?
In Love I am to fight the Enemy
And in Love I am to cut the chains
Of Hate and Untruth

To be an activist

2010-01-18T12:33:00.000-08:00

A couple weeks ago at group [this has been percolating for a while in what passes for my thot processes] we got on the subject of demonstrations and, peripherally, activism. I had to put my 2 cents [tho with inflation it might be worth less or even worthless] in on the topic. In responding, I realized I had to be careful how I expressed myself because I was making my first ever statement claiming to be an Activist and I knew at the time I am going to be responsible for my words.

Before, I supported the civil rights of all people and conservation. Skin color, religious practice, sexual orientation, or gender presentation. Well, I gotta be honest, I have discriminated against New York Yankee fans. Or maybe it's just the Steinbrenners. I will also confess to gritting my teeth while muttering, "Christian Right Republicans have civil rights, too." And while I always voted my beliefs, that was the extent my support. I never called, wrote, emailed any of my elected officials. I have not written any "letters to the editor," or called a radio talk show to make my support or opinions clear. I have only reacted to statements of discrimination in conversations around me. I have never been particularly proactive or even active in civil rights or conservation issues.

Since I started to live a more authentic life last summer, I have been physically and emotionally involved in the Equality March in Seattle and the Transgender Remember Our Dead event at the University of Washington. In those cases, I was a part of a group that was making a civil rights statement. I was an activist, but I wouldn't say I was conscious in my everyday life of being active in statements about civil rights or ecological issues.

That Wednesday night, I found myself making a statement of my manner of carrying into action the activism I am called to. And I know I am called. It starts with being as "out" as I can be. I am not in your face, but I will not hide. I shall live my life as honestly and as openly, as authentically as I can. I will answer all serious questions and many rhetorical questions to the best of my ability. In public, I am trying to live my life as the woman, actually the lesbian, next door. I am being an activist by being myself where people can see me and interact with me. I am trying to be myself, an example of a normal human being. I am hoping that people who see me, when in a conversation about gays, lesbians, bi and transgendered people, will say, "Well, I know this transgendered woman, she's a lesbian, and she's really nice." And that is the response I have gotten from people at the Tully's I visit for my wifi. I did not tell any one but the baristas know and so do several of the regular customers who come in. They have learned that I am nothing and nobody to be afraid of. When I find work again, I will be just as out, I will have no secrets from the people I work with.

This is a small and inauspicious start as an activist, but I'd like to think that Martin Luther King and Mohandas Gandhi would smile and nod their heads at my becoming more intentional as an everyday activist.

The time is a quarter to numb...

2010-01-05T15:41:00.000-08:00

How things are for me??? Today my divorce is final. I get my name change... Later this week I'll start chasing all the places I need to change my name. I'll send the paperwork and the money to the state to change my birth certificate and then prolly change my driver's license. Today I'm just a couple of shades shy of being numb. I prolly wont stop at the liquor store but it crosses my mind.

The End of a Chapter...

2009-12-28T08:30:00.000-08:00

Like a lot of people, maybe most people, I've worked a number of different jobs in my life. I was a programmer/analyst for a small airplane manufacturing company based in Seattle [Boeing]. I was laid off after 9/11 and wasna unhappy to no longer be working there. I never woulda quit but I wasna happy, either. My next job was working as a Certified [yes, I am certifiable :-P ] Nursing Assistant for Providence Hospital in Everett. I started as a nursing assistant and expected it to be temporary because I thought I wanted to be an RN. I worked 32 hours a week with 8 to 10 patients. I found that I loved it! I got a lot of face-to-face contact with the patients and the greatest group of people I've ever worked with! I brought my offbeat sense of humor to my job. [Patch Adams is one of my favorite movies!] The patients enjoyed my humor and it would make their day a bit easier. One of my favorite memories of the job involved a woman who'd recently received very serious diagnosis. She was crying softly in her bed and I came in and sat down with her and we started to talk about things and after a bit, she was laughing with me and felt much better. Her nurse never said anything to me but wrote up an Angel of the Month nomination for me because she was amazed at what had happened. There was another patient with respiratory failure who'd been in and out of the hospital on our floor. I was frequently her aide. The last time she was in, she came to understand she was not going to get better and in fact was only alive because of her respirator. She and her family decided it was time for her to go on to meet her Savior. They called their pastor and the family gathered in the room for prayer and communion. Both her nurse and I were not going to interrupt them. They held off their service until they found us. They very much wanted us to be a part of it. This was a really humbling moment for me to be honored that way. You never know how much the little things you might do for somebody will touch them and their families.

I was a nursing assistant for four years. The last few months, they'd changed the staffing and we almost always had 11-12 patients. That's a lot for any floor but the people on our floor required more care than the average patient, so it was real load. In August of '08, my life had come to a point where I knew I was going to transition soon, so I told my supervisor that I am transsexual. She replied, "You're a nice man. You're just confused." Wrong answer! About a month later, they [management] put together a trumped up, bogus story and fired me. They sent a complaint to the State. It was all hearsay and they couldn't prove it was true but I couldn't prove it wasn't true. The State takes its own sweet time investigating things. Today, I received legal mail from the state. I am to turn in my credentials and I will never be a nursing assistant in Washington state again. There's a little more to it all than that but that's the bottom line.

It hurts... I was a very good aide. My patients loved me and I loved my patients. I learned how much I enjoy helping people, particularly face-to-face. I don't know what field to go into next because I know I want to continue to help other people.

The end of a chapter, but not the end of my calling.

Shannon's First Christmas

2009-12-26T13:26:00.000-08:00

It wasn’t a joy but it wasn’t a tragedy, either.

I had planned for Christmas Eve. I was going to go to dinner at First Congregational Church, and then to the Christmas Eve service they were going to have. After that I was planning to go to a Candlelight Service at Cedar Cross Methodist. I went casual most of the day; running a few chores and surfing at my Tully’s. I went home, got showered, shaved and ready for the evening. And then I got really nauseous and dinna feel well at all. I crawled into my bed and just lay there. I had a very difficult time getting to sleep. The nausea and the dreading of Christmas Day would not let me relax and get to sleep.

Sleep finally came and so did Christmas morning. The apartment felt incredibly empty. It was painful to be so alone on Christmas morning. It felt like someone had cut my heart out. I took my meds and after a bit, I started my breakfast. It wasna very different from any of our Christmas Breakfasts before except there wasna anyone to share it with. When I was done eating, about a quarter to 10AM, I decided it was late enough in the morning that I could call my family and wish them Merry Christmas! I called my wife, got no answer and left a message. I called my daughter, got her voice mail and left her a greeting. I called my son next and it was the same story. It was a little disappointing but it was early yet. Called my baby brother, no answer and left a message. Called my other brother and he was home. I had a good long chat with him. When I finished, my daughter had left a message on my voice mail. That was good.

Just after I woke up that morning I had three very nice text messages from friends of mine. I really, really appreciated them. My morning rolled on. I got a very quick, impersonal, “Merry Christmas” text from my wife. Nothing at all special. I waited and waited for her to call me. She never did. After noon sometime, I had a good cry. I deserve better than that from her! I finally got a call from my daughter and I thanked her very much for calling me back. I think she picked up on my feelings because my son called me about a half hour later. I didna catch the call but he did leave a message.

Debra invited me to her house for dinner Christmas Day. I had told her I’d be there. I also told her I’d bring a casserole. I’ve been trying recipes from Allrecipes.com. This was an opportunity to try out one that sounded really good to me. Called creamy corn casserole, I was anxious to try it out. I love corn; so much so that it comes out in my humor . I put it together and it was really easy [three-four stars.... was a little bland]. Timed it to be ready just before I left and I got myself ready. Popped it out of the oven, covered it with foil, wrapped in a large towel and then headed to Debra’s place. Debra had several people there I had not met so it was going to be an interesting night. Debra and Corina [a woman I had not met] were doing most of the cooking. Debra was being Martha Stewart for the evening. It was a good dinner and a nice evening. I really enjoyed Corina a lot and look forward to meeting her again. Sophia was there and a couple of other women I dinna know before. Sophia seemed to have a very good time. I’m glad I went. So my first Christmas ended on a good note.

What does it mean to be "Feminine"

2009-12-24T13:26:00.000-08:00

I have been reading Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano. It is slow going for me. It is written well, I just always have a problem soaking up academic-type writings other than histories. My take on how Julia Serano describes our culture? is along these lines:

Masculine Men more important than masculine women who are more important than feminine women who are more important than feminine men who are more important than feminine trans-women.

This is gross oversimplification. I am not real comfortable with my use of the word "important." And I'm not really certain where trans-men fit in the hierarchy.

I see myself as a feminine woman. And I realize that I really haven't identified for myself what I mean by "feminine." I am wondering what it means to be feminine. It is not the same as what it means to be a woman, though there is probably overlap. I am still exploring what it means to me. Wiki is of small help. Being more or less feminine seems to be made up of and presentations generally described by culture as "feminine." How much do I want to respond to what the culture dictates?

I have appropriated for myself some of my culture's definition of feminine. For myself, I like my hair to be long and in a style women would wear, but I've met very feminine women with short hairstyles. For myself, I want a bosom and I want it to be large enough to be appropriate for a woman my size. To tell my culture that I am a woman I wear feminine eyeglasses; for myself I think they make my face look more like the woman I am. Again, to tell my culture I am a woman, I have long painted nails; for myself I think they improve the look of my hands and fingers. A fair fraction of the aspects of my presentations are both for culture and for myself and I think I would do them for myself if not encouraged by my culture. I like being pretty. Well... I like not being hard on another person's eyes. It's harder to be "pretty" as the years go by.

I'd like to think that some of the behavioral facets of femininity that my culture recognizes are part of who I am naturally. I like to think that I am gentle in spirit, patient[where the H*** is that latte' I ordered!?], and kind. I am not as soft-spoken as I'd like to be and my voice, while a bit higher than most men, is not as feminine as I'd like. A lot of that is cadence and inflection. And practice. I've had women tell me they thought I was GG [Genetic Girl as opposed to trans] so I'm doin' something right.

Getting used to "Shannon"

2009-12-23T13:23:00.000-08:00

My name will be legally changed to Shannon Michael Tucker on January 5th, when the divorce is finalized in court. "Shannon" is a new name for me. For years I used to go by a derivative of my boy-name of "Michael." It has only been since about June? that I started to go by Shannon. To tell the truth, I still am not completely natural with my new name. Those moments of self-talk, "You're late, Shannon!" or "That was stupid, Shannon!" or "Nice job, Shannon." are not completely natural yet. Yet... It is getting a lot closer. What I have caught myself doing a lot more is to use "baby" or "sweetheart" or "hon." And almost always in an affectionate or nurturing tone of voice to a feminine self. Thinking about that tone, that attitude toward myself, I am surprised. I have always, ALWAYS, been very hard on myself. I have had very high expectations for myself. But since I started my transition, I have found myself a little kinder, a little more gentle with myself. This is VERY different and I like it.

More ramblings on Forgiveness...

2009-12-22T11:23:00.000-08:00

When I say I must forgive, it comes from my heart and I am not ashamed to say it. But if it did not come from my heart and I felt I must forgive, even if I have some reluctance, I may not be living in all the Power and Grace that God has for me, but I am living in obedience.

In my thinking and what passes for my meditations, forgiveness is an essential element of being Meek. To be forgiving requires the strength and the humility to truly give your perceived right to hold responsible for the hurt, to truly give that away.

If it is possible to change the environment that is the source of the hurt or wrong, I will do so. I am not compelled by scripture to be a doormat. Having said that, Peter, that whiny, I'm-better-than-you-are disciple asked if forgiving his brother [Andrew?] 7 times was enough. And Jesus said, "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven." I take that to mean there are times when Jesus would have me be a doormat. I don't know that I can do that myself. If it gets that bad I'd probably try real hard to take myself out of that situation. [and I know what Peter means... I know what a pain in the butt, little mom-always-liked-him-best, brother can be like --- I don't think he reads my blog ;)]

Transition or Die...

2009-12-22T10:51:00.000-08:00

I am not sure whether I've posted this before but I canna find it so...

With respect to "transition or die." I have been considering transition, living my life as myself a woman, for almost 20 years. I have only recently started to live my life full time. Somedays my life feels wonderful and others aren't so good. But my new life is still finding its paths.

I have always been uncomfortable when people comment on how "brave" I am to make this change, to live an authentic life. I appreciate the comment and what they mean behind it, but I don't feel brave. I always think and sometimes say, "It's not bravery or courage when you are faced with transition or die." I have not been in danger of physical death, but emotional and spiritual death have always been choices. I am an addict. Medication to make the pain go away, to numb myself has always been a part of my life. I KNOW I am capable of self-medicating to the point that who I am at the core becomes comatose and dies. And before living full-time my greatest pain was because I was not living authentically as myself.

Good News

2009-12-10T10:09:00.000-08:00

I might not have to pay for an orchiectomy!!! If it stays cold like this I’ll just freeze my cojones off!

Can you believe this! Damn! It’s cold! Have thermostats set to 70 and can’t actually get the heat in the room past 67. At night when I’m trying to sleep if I roll over from one spot in the bed to another; it’s like going from the toaster to the freezer! Like a pop tart in reverse! [note to self: No, I don' wanna move back to Minnesota.]

It is so dry here, the buzzards are booking flights to Death Valley. If I walk out of my apartment without a half-pound of product on my hair [like I've done the last two days] I get hit with this instant frizz bomb.

Well, Tuesday was … interesting. I had an appointment with the people who are monitoring how fast my blood clots. The nurse who was working with me took my vitals and got real concerned. My pulse was running 130 beats a minute, what they call tachycardia. He took it again and it was 140. He really wasn't that good looking. So he wheeled me over to the walk-in clinic to so they could run an EKG and have a doc check me over. This is getting' to be fun…not! A new RN ran the EKG on me took the strip and as she was leaving the room to find the doc she mumbled, "This is interesting…" Now, you ned to understand that I was not feeling any symptoms of anything 'cept this damn toothache. And the possibility of going back to the hospital kinda jumped to the front of my head. I wasna happy about this but wasna anxious either. The doc comes in and he says, "Well, the good news is you're already on coumadin." He goes on to explain that I have something called Atrial Fibrillation, what the medical community calls AFib. He explains to me how AFib can cause to strokes. When the atrium is shaking like jello (fibrillating), the blood just sits there and doesn't get pushed on to its next destination. Blood that just sits around makes clots. When the heart finally gets its act together again and pumps blood properly, out go these lovely little clots. To the brain or to the heart muscle. Apparently, the first line of defense agains the AFib generated clots is to make the blood clot much more slowly. In comes Coumadin, which I'm already on because of the clots in my legs and the clots in my lungs. I get to follow up with a cardiologist next week who will run more tests and probably hone my medications a bit. The doc on Tuesday gave me a blood pressure medicine and I'm not sure why. My blood pressure could run low because of the bp meeds I'm already on and the doc was aware of those meds when he prescribed this other med. Yesterday, with the new med, I felt a lot of weakness in my arms and legs. I don't know if that's the AFib or the new med.

One of the upshots of being on coumadin is that major elective surgery is probably out. What does _that_ mean? Well, I can probably get my augmentation done and, again, probably get my orchie done, but SRS is probably out. I will have to investigate this to be sure, but there are a lot of blood vessels in that area of the body and how I bleed and clot will probably be a concern to any reliable surgeon doing the operation.

Oh! The doc on Tuesday also gave me a prescription for amoxicillan for my jaw infection, too. This is a Good Thing.

Another grump day...

2009-12-07T19:13:00.000-08:00

My jaw still hurts and I canna tell if it’s getting better. I haven’t slept well the last couple nights. But maybe being a grump helped me get a couple things done today.

I called Comcast and canceled my TV and internet with them. I let the internet in particular interfere with the way I want to live my life. Instead of getting up and getting things done, I sit at the ‘puter reading the ‘net for an hour or two [or 3...]. Nothing really wrong with that, I just don’t get outa the apartment. If I need to connect the the ‘net, I’ll just go to the library or to Tully’s and pick up free WIFI. The other thing that I let the ‘net interfere with is the reading and writing I think I want to do. I’m slowly moving thru Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano. It's tough reading for me; it's not the science fiction I usually read. But I harken to the Internet Siren calling me to rocks of intellectual oblivion. The 'net is easier and I am basically lazy.

I had to go to the Alderwood Mall to pay for some new glasses I've picked out. While at the mall I went to the Apple store to pick up a copy of Quicken [I want to pretend I'm gonna stay on top of my finances for a change.] The young man who helped me find the Quicken and Aperture was pretty nice. But he called me "sir." I wasna looking my best as I was in grump-mode, but I had my hair combed out fairly nice. I have my nails [which need a fill badly]. I had my purse. And I have my "bumps". After the sale, I went around to the side of the cash register where the young man's trainer was standing and said, "We're gonna have a little education here." I then pointed out the visual cues [the guy did have the fact that I seem to have a grand-daddy bullfrog in my throat today in his favor] and hey immediately were in apology-mode. I was fine. So everything was good. But I've never stood up for myself like that in public before. Three cheers for grumpness!

On a totally different note, I used a recipe from AllRecipes.com for fried [or baked or grilled] fish. "Simple Ranchy Breaded Fish Fillets" was extremely easy and I LOVED it! [which is a good thing 'cus I got a big bag of frozen Mahi Mahi fillets and another big bag of frozen sockeye salmon fillets eating up all the space in my tiny freezer] I had to grow up with the "Give it to Mikey, he hates everything" commercial. I'm not Mikey anymore but "She likes it!!!"

A day to Grump

2009-12-06T18:23:00.000-08:00

Last night was a Hot Flash dance at Neighbors. I've been planning to go for two weeks. I dinna go to the dance. I had promised myself I would start and finish a few projects for my bathroom and the rest of the apartment that I had put off for 3 or 4 weeks. I got a late start on them and decided I was gonna finish for fear that I wouldn't get back to 'em. I am a great one for putting things off and not finishing things. That and I started on my laundry that I have put off. I still have a couple of loads to go.

I sent an email to an employment writer from the Seattle Times asking for ideas how to improve the reception I get from HR people. She has written articles about being gay and employed. She seemed a good source.

I have developed an infection around one of many crowns I have in my mouth. I've had it before and usually waiting trough it and using tylenol eventually takes care of it. I'd like the dentist to prescribe a STRONG antibiotic for more than 2 weeks, 'cus it seems that I never quite rid of it. And I don't want them diggin' in my teeth anymore. They'd hafta replace a crown; I don't have that kinda money. It gets to be painless but it comes back in the same place. I can deal with it but sometimes it gets annoying.

Today, I'm being a grump. The jaw hurts and the next door neighbor is playing rap music a little [a lot] loud. I'm not getting to my laundry.

I'll be better in a day or two.

The Scent that the Rose Leaves...

2009-11-28T20:40:00.000-08:00

[Forgive me, but I have rambled a bit writing this]

I've been seeking an understanding of forgiveness for my whole adult life it seems. Usually I am looking for a step-by-step manual of "Forgiveness for Dummies." [Reading through Wiki's entry for forgiveness there's a guy who actually wrote a book on a 20 step process: Dr. Robert Enright, Forgiveness is a Choice, American Psychological Association , 2001 ISBN 1-55798-757-2]

But for me, forgiveness is something from the heart. It can't be made into a technical manual. And for myself again, forgiveness is every bit a requirement for my walk with God as confession of my sins. [It's a good thing that God transcends time as my confession is gonna take awhile.] I have resented that most churches emphasize the need to be forgiving but do not really teach how to do it. But that is me trying to find the technician's approach again. I have always heard the phrase, "forgive and forget," but I think that very true phrase both oversimplifies and confuses the issues. God can forgive and forget in hard truth. But as a human being [in spite of what Ken Hutcherson believes] I cannot erase those memories or hide them someplace in my mind and be healthy.

The "study" I've been trying to do is more about finding my true words, my heart words, to put what I know in my heart into English so that I can articulate it better, so I can give it some form I can actually touch with my hands? and somehow give it a measure that I can use in my daily, boring life.

For me, to forgive is to unconditionally give up a claim on another for wrongs I perceive. Again for myself, to forget in this context is to unconditionally not bring up or remember the wrongs I perceive. Forgiveness is about me. Forgetting is about me. I am not responsible for my brother's response or remembering of the wrong. I am only responsible for my heart in the matter. I found this anonymous quote about forgiveness that strikes me as poetic and touches me to my soul, "Forgiveness is the scent that the rose leaves on the heel that crushes it."

To live a life of forgiveness strikes some of my friends as allowing people to run me over. Perhaps they are right. I dunno. I only know I must forgive, no other options. I must.

"My Journey is my Own"

2009-11-14T10:09:00.000-08:00

When I read the latest blog from SisterFriendsTogether, the concept of “The Journey is My own” and “I live and breathe for an audience of One” really caught my interest. I canna speak for everyone newly out as I am, but it seems, for _me_, That ’till I decided to be out, to live my life fulltime, to live my life someplace else than online, to live authentically, I had been living my life the way everyone thought I should. I had been living and breathing for an audience of everyone but the One. There is a so much peace and joy in living authentically, but it has had a price. In choosing to walk my own journey, My wife and children have decided they canna walk with me anymore. What they really resent is that I am not walking with them as they think I should.

What I Believe

2009-11-05T18:15:00.000-08:00

In 1995, I had come to the understanding that I needed to live as a woman. With a nod to the movie Rudy, I had done everything I knew to do to have my true nature go away. I've prayed, I've had elders anoint me with oil and lay hands on me. I prayed for death. And still my nature, who I was then and now, was with me. Going against my nature just wasn't possible. Paul would talk of his thorn in his flesh and struggled against it. I am not Paul. But I had to find my way to understanding how I could still be in God's grace. What follows is what I came to, piece by piece.

What I Believe

Part of moving to a spiritual and emotional peace for me is looking at the Scripture and trying to understand what God is trying to say to me. I try not to make the Word jump through too many hoops. I was born, raised and confirmed a Missouri Synod Lutheran and I highly respect God's Word. This is what I base my faith on:

· Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior,

· I am a sinner in need of Jesus' Love and Intercession,

· the Bible is the Holy Word of God and, when properly understood, contains the answers to a lot of the questions in my life,

· The Apostle's Creed,

· The Nicene Creed,

· Luther's Small Catechism, and

· most importantly, Jesus Loves Me.

Male And Female

Genesis 1:27 So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. (New King James Version)

In my prayers and meditations, I was drawn to this simple passage. I had an idea what this passage meant. It is often quoted at homosexual people as if to say, "God made you a man and not a woman!" or "God made you a woman and not a man!" I wasn't able to read that here. So I asked an LCMS pastor what the Hebrew underneath the English said. He told me that the Hebrew translated clearly to the English with the exception of the word "them." He explained that Hebrew does not have a word for "them", but that the Hebrew here indicated an single object that was a plural. "Them" is as close as the English gets. Still confused about how this passage was being used and what it really meant, I asked an English professor how the sentence would diagram. She told me that the subject of the sentence is "He", the verb is "made" and the object is "them." "He made them." She then told me that the phrase "male and female" was an adjective phrase modifying "them." "He made them male and female." But the key word or concept in this part of the passage is "them", a singular object of plural value. However God made "them", whatever He did, He did to both elements of "them." Syntactically, there is no difference between the sentence, "male and female He made them." and speaking of zebras, "Black and white He made them." Ok, so explain it to me like I was a 6 year-old. Literally, God made each person some part male and some part female.

In His Image?

Genesis 1:27 So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. (New King James Version)

Does the idea of man, created some part male and some part female, fit with the "Image of God?"

Clearly, God is the image of a masculine Father. He is perfect Justice and justice is masculine. But He is also perfect Love and love is feminine. As Christ said to Jerusalem, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!" Matthew 23:37.

The Image of God, being both male and female, fits with the biology that is seen in His creation. There are children born with genitals of both sexes, children born without genitals of either sex, some boys are born with out the ability to use the male hormones in their bodies to become men and the bodies of some girls overuse any androgens in their system and are very masculine. These children all have been born "male and female." These children are not abominations from the womb!

But I feel there is a better argument for understanding God's Image as fully male and fully female. If the Father were only fully male, then the Son would be only fully male. And if the Son were only fully male, then women would not have a Comforter who understands their temptations or a Savior who died for their sins.

Whosoever...

John 3:16 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life (New King James Version)

The Word plainly states that any person who believes in what the Son has done for him is saved, saved forever. It does not state that only white, Anglo-Saxon, American, protestant straight married people are saved. It simply, very simply, states "whosoever..."

I believe in Jesus Christ, only begotten Son of God, is the Savior of my soul. He is my savior!

Closer To God

I have come to a point in my life where I have done all that I know how to do to be the "man God wants me to be." I have tried for so very long to make myself right before the Lord. Now... now I humbly confess to my Father that this is who I am. I cannot hide who I am and I cannot change it. For maybe the first time in my life I have surrendered to God and I pray that He has a use for me. I feel closer to Him than I ever have in my life. I have told Him the thing I most wanted to keep from Him and ya know what? He still loves me and will not cast me out!

For What Purpose?

John 9:1-3 1 Now as Jesus passed by, He saw a man who was blind from birth. 2 And His disciples asked Him, saying, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" 3 Jesus answered, "Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but that the works of God should be revealed in him. (New King James Version)

I do not know how being the way I am fits the Lord's plans. I only know that I am created by God in love, loved by Jesus unto death, sanctified by the Holy Spirit for the joy and the glory of the Lord. And I believe that I am the way I am, that I am who I am, so that God can show His Glory, show His Power, and show His Love.

My Walk From Here

So where do I go from here? I feel guided by two passages. I have to put my faith in God and in His word.

Phillipians 2:12 Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; (New King James Version)

and

Micah 6:8 He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God? (New King James Version)

Referendum 71

2009-11-03T23:35:00.000-08:00

I am just nauseated that the vote is so close. Nauseated that only about 5 counties are passing it and while those counties may actually make a majority of votes for the state, it's still just 5 counties. I am nauseated by the No on 71 people with their talk of it doesn't matter we're going to keep fighting and we'll make this go away. Why can't people just let us be who we are: fully enfranchised, fully engaged citizens of this state and of this country?

When I was a young man, in the midst of the Jesus Movement, I sang “They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love” and it meant something to me. I believed then and I believe now the words I sang, the words I SING now.

We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord
We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord
And we pray that our unity will one day be restored
And they'll know we are Christians by our love, by our love
Yeah they'll know we are Christians by our love

We will work with each other, we will work side by side
We will work with each other, we will work side by side
And we'll guard each man's dignity and save each man's pride
And they'll know we are Christians by our love, by our love
Yeah, they'll know we are Christians by our love.

My Jesus died for every soul that has drawn breath. My Jesus LOVED every man woman and child, gay or straight. Why is it my “Christian” brothers and sisters cannot see us all the way Jesus sees us?

I knowingly gave up the "rights" and "privileges" to be who I am, to be a woman and to be a woman who loves women, but it does not, does NOT mean I no longer expect to be equal to any other man or any other woman in this state, in this country, or in this world. I expect, no! DEMAND! that I and my brothers and sisters be seen and treated with the honor and respect that any human being deserves.

Last Night and This Morning

2009-10-28T10:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening, I tried to make sure I had my paperwork for the divorce done and I took it over to my wife. She says she’s looking for closure. She wants it done as soon as we can get it done. The marriage is over. That saddens me a great deal. I really don’t know what I’m holding onto. It’s been over for a long time. But I don’t want it to be over. I miss her laugh and her smile. The bright twinkle in her eyes.

After dropping off the paperwork, I went home with the assignment that I was to write and email to our lawyer. I couldn’t get to it. I kept putting it off. I just couldn’t make myself do it. I was in such a sad place that I couldn’t approach the email. Finally, around 11:00PM, I was able to force my way through it and get it sent off. A phrase from a Bobby Vinton song [I think] seems appropriate. “Blue on Blue, Heartache on Heartache...” I feel like someone is slowly pulling my heart out through a small hole.

I expected to better this morning and I was for a while. I got an email from my son. The first since I’ve come out. He was responding to an email I sent to him, the first from my new Shannon email address. I signed mine “Dad," I don’t think he would have been pleased for me to sign it “Shannon.” I had asked about open mic opportunities for a friend who wants to share her poetry. He told me how things are going in seminary. He’s having a great time. Then he got to the meat of his email. He gave me a few ideas of where my friend could go to share her poetry. And he made it crystal clear that he didn’t want her to go to his favorite poetry night. He said it would feel like an invasion of his privacy. This saddened me. I could see where going there would not be appropriate for me. But to paint my friend guilty because of her association with me just isn’t right. Especially because I know under other circumstances, Jake would like her a lot.

So, on what is usually one of the high points of my week, I’m feeling a little down.

Dancin', Dancin', Dancin'

2009-10-25T08:01:00.000-07:00

I went dancin’ at the 4women women’s dance in Bellingham last night. The first social event I’ve gone to as a woman-identified women-oriented person was the dance in Bellingham a month ago. I’ve been dancin’ every Saturday but one since then. I’ve loved the dancing! Last night, I gave a woman from Edmonds a ride up to the dance and it was nice to meet and get to know someone new to me. I dressed nice, in my “Goddess” wear as Gabrielle calls it. I decided to wear my 3+“ heels. I’ve not done a lot of walkin’ in my heels and NO dancing! I figured if I wasn’t comfortable, I’d just dance barefoot. I wasn’t at all sure I could really ‘dance’ in the shoes. I like to move around. I did alright. I almost turned an ankle 3 times I think but I did ok. I got nice compliments on my outfit. Was asked to dance by 4 or 5 different women and danced a lot longer than my previous dances. One of the women led me [and every other woman she danced with] by hand up to the dance floor. And one time gave me a pat on the butt when she brought me back down *major grin*! [there may actually be hope!]. Again, I had a marvelous time! I am not going to hesitate to wear my ”Goddess wear“ or my heels.

I've never done that before...

2009-10-24T14:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I went with a friend to my first poetry reading other than to hear my daughter or son. The featured poet was a lesbian whose work my friend has been reading for over twenty years and that was who she wanted me to hear. There was a rap artist, another woman author and a Seattle man who normally does poetry [in iambic pentameter and rhyme. no less!]. It was held at the Richard Hugo House in Seattle’s Central District, a place and organization that exhibits and promotes the Literary arts.

We found some seats and started looking around. Gabrielle, the woman I came with, thought she saw some people she knew but she wasn’t sure. I didn’t see anyone I knew and didn’t expect to.

The presentation started with Macklemore, a rap artist. He seemed to be pretty good... it was hard for me to tell. His style [maybe it is rap style?] was not real clear for me to hear. I’m not a big rap fan, anyway. He was followed by Keri Healey reading some of her writings. Eric McHenry read a really nice piece about moving back to his hometown of Topeka [a moment of silence for the loss of a great Seattle poet...]

At intermission, my friend went out to stretch her legs. I was just sitting there looking around and saw this tall, innocent-looking blonde kid sitting off to the side. The kid and my son were roommates at college for 5 years! I was pretty sure he saw me and I wondered what to do. I’ve always been concerned about meeting the friends of my kids as myself. I told my friend when she came back. She encouraged me to go say hello. So I did. I said hello and he asked me how I was doing and we chatted for a bit. It went well I thought. I’m not sure what he would say to my son or how my son would take it, but... things are what they are and my son will someday need to accept that this is who I am.

The second half started with Macklemore again and he had some nice stuff really, or I enjoyed it anyway. Macklemore rapped from his awareness of the disparities that exist in our culture. There were some insightful comments in the rap. The headline was Rebecca Brown. She is doing something a little different for her? She said that she was going to be reading from a historical fictional autobiography (?). It was a lyrical telling of an episode set in high school and in Texas and, later, Washington, D.C. I thought it was very good, but this episode ended sadly.

After the last reading, there was buffet and a chance to talk to folks and just take things in. It was a nice evening. I’ve been to readings my son has been involved in which were usually his friends and fellow college students. I’ve never been to this kinda of reading where people who were big in the literary scene. This was alright! I’m not any kind of expert; I just enjoy what I enjoy.

Driving home we talked about our writings [my few] and what we liked. I told her about my son’s writing. When I got home I sent her the url to my favorite poem that my son wrote. He really is a good poet.

Falling On The Floor, Laughing My Ass Off...

2009-10-22T08:21:00.000-07:00

... scared my friends to death last night! I got a bit concerned too, to be honest. Puzzlement was my strongest feeling, tho.

Our gender support group is between 5 and 10 folks on a given Wednesday. We all have warped senses of humor none of them the same. And I love it, Once in awhile we have a night that is almost totally sober. Those are good nights too. Many times the humor strikes so that I’m laughing so hard I can’t catch my breath. Last night was one of _those_ nights! It was a small but intimate group and everybody was doin ok. A new woman was there and we were trying to let her know she wasn’t alone. My turn to check in came up and as usual I approached a lot of my life with my off the wall sense of humor. Well, something kicked over and I was laughing again, laughing so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. I recognized it and figured I’d work through it like I usually do. I bent over to my right to the chair that was there cus I was laughing so hard and... The next thing I now my friends are waking me up out of nice nap and a great dream [I was gonna get the girl for once!] and helped me sit up on the floor. What was I doin’ on the floor? Why was everyone standing over me looking so concerned? Apparently I had blacked out and toppled over backward to the floor. Dani gave me an 8 for the dive but them Texas judges are biased. I got up into my chair assured everybody I was alright and we got on with check in. Other funny things came up during the evening, everyone would turn to me and demand, “Don’t Laugh!” If I canna laugh I’ll go crazy! It’s like tyin’ a mime’s hands behind his back.

But I feel just fine. I’m gonna send a note to my Doc asking if I should come in or not. But I don’t feel like I really need to.

Drinking milk after the "Use By" date

2009-10-20T14:23:00.000-07:00

Today, My wife and I met at the insurance agents office to change the insurance on the house and the car policies. Part of the separation and divorce actions. She came from work and I came from the apartment. She was looking really good. She always does. Though she didn’t have a smile for me. I always hope she will but it’s getting more and more rare. When she smiles she lights up the room and I know everything is gonna be alright. I told her it looked like she’d lost some weight and she has. We talked about little stuff, she had my mail in the car and did the dentist get hold of me about my appointment? There was a lull in the conversation and I turned to look at something. When I turned back... she was just turning away and I am sure she didn’t see me turn back. She’d been looking at me and he had a look on her face and a little shake to her head like she had just finished drinking a glass of milk that was past it’s “Use by:” date. That was very painful to see. I know she sees me now and probably forever as the Man she spent 29 years with. It would be nice if she could lie to me once in a while and politely say, “You look nice.”

My Saturday

2009-10-18T12:22:00.000-07:00

Was a very long day. I have joined a meetup group called Eastside Lesbians? They had Koffee Klatch in Issaquah and I met 12 new women. It was a nice time. I was invited to lunch with 4 of the women and had a great time. Our waitress was a hot little butch. She was flirtin' hard with one of the women. We don't know for sure she's part of the family but we were all willing to bet that way. Again, I had a really good time. I got home in the early afternoon and got ready for the Hot Flashes Retro dance at Neighbors. Took a short nap and headed off to Capital Hill... the Eastside Lesbians were getting together for dinner before the Dance. Met another 6 or 8 women.

After the dinner we went over to Neighbors [first time I'd ever been there.] and started dancing. I ran into Pat and Sue, which was something. Neighbors was packed! Lots of butch women and a fair amount of definitely femme women too. I danced with several different people, mostly with the Eastside Lesbian women. Sometimes singular and sometimes as a group. They were a fun bunch. A couple of the Eastside women would dance slow together... It was bittersweet for me to see. Particularly when they started kissing. Anyway, the music was loud and the floor was too crowded for my tastes. I like to move around and not stand in one place and that wasn't possible most of the time. I don't think I'll go back to the Hot Flash dances.

Walking back to my truck.... I got to thinking of the women dancing together and kissing and I had to think about dancing with my wife. We met at square dance lessons. Dancing with her... She has a smile that is just electric! Her laugh, a bright cackle, can light up a room! I got to remembering all the good times... I started choking up... almost couldn't breathe. In my truck driving home wasn't any better. lotsa fun crying and driving... It was a long night... I've needed to grieve the loss of wife. It was a hard night when I got bak to my apartment.... I didn’t get to bed ‘til after 2. I’ve no idea when I got to sleep. My friends all say to call ‘em when I need to talk but it’s real hard for me to call someone at 12:30, 1 o’clock in the morning.

I need to grieve still but at least I scratched the surface. I have a full plate of issues that I need to be honest with my feelings with. I shut them down for a while, mostly to survive. I need to do my personal work.

The Equality March...

2009-10-12T12:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the first time I've ever turned out for any kind of protest. I'm trying to remember all the images and impressions from yesterday.

Michelle, a woman from the gender support group I've been going to, and I went to Seattle. The plan was to attend the opening speeches and then "march" down to the Federal building and then I'd catch a taxi back. I had my camera [sometimes I think I'm a photographer] Thinking I'm gonna document this for myself. Turned out I was too busy watching everybody. So many different people! All sorts of groups of people, too. At least 3 and I think 4 different socialist groups. Reminded me of college at Western in the early 70's. [maybe that's why I'm listening to Peter, Paul and Mary] Some people I could sense anger from [usually the socialists, but that's my prejudice], but mostly there was joy [if not happiness] and hope and determination. Lotsa baby dykes... a lot of really young folks. I canna imagine being 17, 18, 20, 23, and not _expecting!_ things to change, _knowing_ it _has_ to change. I'm an old broad. I have my hopes, but my certainty isn't the same, nor is my outrage. It probably takes some of the urgency away from me because I've "had my marriage." But the truth that I have to hold on tight to is I still dream to have a woman to be married with and I need to demand that for myself and for my brothers and sisters. For _me_, marriage is a commitment before my God between myself and partner. More simply, marriage is the solemn commitment, the covenant, between two people, period.

Anyways...

We finally started off from the park. The transfolks seemed to be at the end of the march, but we were there. Michelle kinda hovered around me always asking how I was doing. We both knew that my clots in my lungs made the march an interesting proposition. [P,P&M are singing Dylan's "The Times, They Are A Changin'] I did ok... my calves were not happy with me but it had nothing to do with the clots. There was a really nice convoy of Seattle Police on bikes keeping pace with us. Michelle told me before that I should be ready for the "haters" because they'd be there. But I ever saw a one; it was totally peaceful all the way to the Fed building. Lotsa people came out from their businesses to give us support along the way. It was a really positive experience for me. We got to the Fed building, sat down for a bit... actually I kinda went "plop", I was outa breath but it was outa-shape outa breath. After a bit and more speeches, Michelle and I decided to head back. I tried to see what a cab would cost. It was more than I had with me; that left us to walk it... Uphill... Oh dear! So we started out. My calves had stretched out good so that wasn't a problem. And we went sow. Michelle slowed me down several times when I got into "march" mode. I did ok. I was tired and a bit worn. I had real issues with the 20 or so steps up by the park but at the top I could rest a bit. And we were back. I was really proud and happy to go and lend my voice and support. Oh, and survive too .

Lost In Thought

2009-10-08T12:47:00.000-07:00

I remember "Lost In Space" from when I was a kid. I had a crush on Angela Cartwright, mostly 'cus that's who I wanted to be: very attractive girl-next-door with long dark hair. The thing is I didn't understand then that I wanted to _be_ like her. I was _supposed_ to be a boy, so I simply had a crush on her.

I digress. Lost In Space and, for me, lost in thought are really similar. Sometimes, I don't know what hope I have of finding home. Again, shooting rapids without a paddle. The two months I have been out and essentially full-time as a woman learning who I am and just being me have been at times overwhelming! Like being in the valley in the shadow of a mountain and suddenly the morning sun bursts over the ridge to reveal the beauty and the glory of what God has made. Such glory is awesome! and exhilarating! and, also, at least a little frightening. My heart has seen new and wonderful things and felt a kaleidoscope of joy and happiness I had not guessed was waiting for me!

And my heart has pondered a lot of new questions or maybe old questions reexamined. Sometimes I find answers easily and I am happy with the new directions the answers have taken me. I've decided I want to have breast augmentation. This is new for me. I am very comfortable with my forms. I like and maybe even enjoy the warmth and the weight that is part of the forms. But I feel something is missing when I am not wearing them. I wear them almost 16 hours a day every day; They feel _right_! to me. I am just a kind of light grey sad when I take them off at night? I think augmentation is a good answer for me.

Some questions are a surprise; I thought I had answered them a long time ago. I had no plans to revisit them. The Plan (tm) had been to live as a woman with my breast forms and then to get an orchiectomy and be rid of those nasty! testosterone factories not to mention the silly lumps that get in the way when I'm trying to cross my legs like a Proper Lady.

In the space adventure science fiction I read the authors are fond of reminding readers, "No plan survives contact with the enemy!" I find myself thinking that maybe I, um, want to have something that passes for and functions like a vagina. Where the hell! did that come from? I don't know. I ask myself this question: What would it mean to me to have a vagina? I _do not_ have an answer. And my thoughts and feelings are lost in space.

My Daily Routine...

2009-09-12T06:52:00.000-07:00

Such as it is...

Beyond the mornings, I haven’t had much of routine yet. I need to get into some routine so I can better manage my diabetes and my coumadin. My mornings are pretty much set. The 4 ‘S’s when the alarm goes off [or earlier]. Shot [my byetta for my diabetes] then Shit then Shower and Shave. Hopefully, that all gets done in time for my breakfast. This last week, I have been going back to bed for about an hour nap. It seems I am gassing out quickly. I get up from the nap and go to the clinic for my INR check. After that I usually go over to my wife’s place and try to help pack things up for the house to go on sale. Usually around 2, I knock off because I’m out of steam again. I come back to my apartment and crash.

I have no idea how my stamina is going to affect any job I might be able to find. Some of it will depend on how much lifting I have to do. I have to find a job with benefits, soon. All my benefits go away when the divorce is final.

The Finished Product...

2009-09-07T07:17:00.001-07:00

David says to Solomon, “This is the plan the Lord gave me. Be courageous and get to work. Don’t be frightened by the size of the task, for the Lord my God is with you; He will not forsake you. He will see to it that everything is finished correctly.” [1 Chronicles 28:19-22]

Paul, to the Philippians, assures me that, “God, who began a good work within me, will keep on helping me grow in his grace until his task within me is finally finished.” [Philippians 1:6]

When I was young and starting over, I knew I wouldn’t stay down forever. I knew my life would improve, that things would get better. I have not had that confidence this time around. I have been discouraged, a lot by the blood clots, but life in general. I love my wife and miss her greatly. I have no one to lean on but Jesus, and, to be honest, I haven’t done that very often in my life. But he assures me that he is here and has a plan and he will complete his plan. I have to have courage. And I have to get to work on my life. Most of all, I have to trust that he is working according his blueprints, not mine.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Amen.

Helluva way to start a new life...

2009-09-05T07:54:00.001-07:00

Last Tuesday I saw Dr. Finn and complained about how swollen my leg was. We scheduled an ultrasound appointment for Wednesday. I went to the ultrasound and sure enough there were clots in my leg [deep vein thrombosis or DVT]. From thigh to toe. They were gonna have a Clinic Security person roll me over to the Anti-Coagulation [AG] clinic across the street. Then the duty doc decided because of my shortness of breath they should send me to the ER to be completely checked out. There might be a clot in my lung and that would explain the SOB. I was bundled into an ambulance and off we go!

At the ER, I called my wife and let her know I was there and why. I also told her I wasn’t dressed as a boy. She wasn’t happy to hear that. She came down and was obviously concerned. They ran some tests and put me through a CT scan. I had clots in the lung [pulmonary embolism or PE], too. Three of them. So I was admitted to the hospital, hooked up to a heart monitor and then started blood thinning therapy on me. A couple of days later, they sent me home and I am to start coumadin therapy for probably the next 6 months. I am also going to stop my estrogen therapy. I get to go through menopause and I haven’t even finished puberty ;) .

Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had DVT’s in the other leg and clots restricting the blood flow to the head [now wouldn’t that explain a lot ;)]. I get light headed and a little dizzy once in a while, especially when I stand up quickly.

Divorce papers

2009-09-02T08:10:00.002-07:00

The lawyer sent both of us divorce papers in the email yesterday. I have to fill out a couple of forms and get the “Petition” sent off by fax today. I’ll meet with my wife about 9 at the house. I’ll pack up a few things and come home. I will want to get on with my day. I do not want this divorce. But there is not other path my wife is willing to consider.

Movin' on and movin' out

2009-09-01T21:38:00.002-07:00

My wife asked me to leave a couple weeks ago. I house-sat for a friend [crashed is more like it] for a week and then found my own apartment. I’ve been moving in little bit by little bit. I go to the house and I try to pack things up and it seems the energy is sucked right out of me and I only get a little bit done. It will get better. Probably next week, I’ll get my major pieces of furniture moved over and I can start relaxing in my apartment. I can’t quite call it “My new home.”

We went to a lawyer today to see about a mediated divorce. We have most everything split up so that we both feel it’s fair. The lawyer seemed to be competent and had empathy for us. We’ll go with her. We have a boat load of paperwork to fill out. We plan to get a little done tomorrow morning and sent back to her and the rest we hope to tackle this weekend. I told my wife that, for me, it is like having a bad tooth and knowing I have to pull it out wth no novocaine myself. It hurts something awful and I don’t wanna do it but it needs to be done.

I feel so tempted to get a bottle of wine and getting drunk!

I went to see Dr. Finn today. It was supposed to be a diabetes followup, but I’ve been having issues with being short of breath and chronic swelling and low-level pain in my right leg. I figured the sweeling was from my diabetes being out of control. She told me my arteries seemed to be doin’ fine;she could feel a strong pulse in my foot. She thinks there might be a clot in a vein. I’m getting an ultra sound done today at 3:30p. If it is a clot, then it is most likely due to the estrogen and I will have to quit taking estrogen altogether. I can live with that.

My Babies!

2009-08-31T07:13:00.003-07:00

I’ve been packing up my life alongside my wife who is packing up hers. It has been hard for me. I get down, depressed and run out of energy. I am not making much progress. My wife seems to be doing ok, but she is driven to work and she wants the house down to bare essentials in the next week. Working today through a box my wife put together for me. There were some pictures of the kids when they were younger. One was of my son in a crawling pose double exposed with his sister’s face almost in profile. When I saw it I doubled up in emotional pain and cried, “My Babies! My Babies…! What have I done to my Babies?!”

I hope you Dance...

2009-08-10T12:21:00.000-07:00

"When you get a chance to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance" Lee Ann Womack

Last week, on Wednesday, my wife and I had a confrontation about my gender. What was it I wanted to do? How did I intend to live? It was a confrontation we have had time and again over the last fifteen years. Always, in the past, ALWAYS, when faced with the choice to sit it out or dance, I have chosen to sit it out. The fear of losing her, the fear of her anger, the fear of her hurt, the fears of losing my children and having them disrespect me, all of this went into those many decisions to sit it out. She was very angry with me over the deceit and the money I've spent developing a wardrobe. She used arguments to make me feel bad about my actions and my "desires". She brought up the kids and their friends. She brought up family. She's used it all before and it worked for her. But not this time.

Wednesday, I chose to dance.

I know that I have to leave the house. Whether I get a job or not, I am going to have to live somewhere else pretty soon. She's asked me a couple of times if I have changed my mind. And I have heard the hurt in her voice when I told her, "No, hon, I'm sorry but I haven't."

I have a lot of sadness. I love my wife. I love my kids. But this charade I have played in the past is killing me. I want to be real and available and share who I really am with the people I love. Somehow, I just haven't been able to do that as a man. People tell me I am more real when I am being myself and it's just plain easier. It is easier to be open, to have a sense of humor, to enjoy my life, to be in the moment. I've stopped thinking about when God might call me home. Before, it could not be soon enough. I don't even think about it now.

Saturday's Hike...

2009-08-07T21:04:00.000-07:00

I went hiking up to the Big Four Ice Caves off the Mountain Loop Highway on Saturday. It is an easy hike. Little children do it all the time. [Sow how come was it the guys who all had their big dogs pulling them up the trails???] I wasn't sure how I was gonna do.

Let me step back a bit.

I had thought about doing this hike for a while now. This Saturday I had a very good opportunity to do it as myself. My wife was out of town for her reunion and I was going to have all sorts of time to myself. I wanted to this hike as myself. It was a little scary because I haven't done anything outdoors as Shannon yet and a girl alone in the woods is a lot more risky than if I'd gone hiking as a man. This was to be Shannon's first hike.

But I hemmed and hawed and spent too much time on the 'puter that morning. It got towards noon and I figgered that if I was gonna go, I'd better get at it and preparing to go as myself was going to make it that much later and I was concerned that I might just use that as an excuse not to go. I decided to go as "him". Now Michael has not been out in the woods by himself much either. Just a few hikes and one camping trip. And Michael isn't any more brave than I am, but he does have less to fear. [I am seperating myself here for a little clarity. I do not really see myself as twoo people, Michael and Shannon]

I stopped and picked up some ice and some drinks and a couple pieces of chicken for snacks. spent an hour plus cruising up to Big Four. The parking lot was really busy. I hit the trail and hiked up to the ice caves. I had my camera and tripod with me but I didn't stop to take any pictures. I was too focused on making the hike. I was [am] concerned about a pain, a knot in my right leg below my calf. It is almost like I stretched it too much but it doesn't go away. I was concerned then, and still am, that it might be PAD [Peripheral Artery Disease] What I could find out from the Internet was that until I could see my Dr. I should just go ahead, take some aspirin and keep walking. but I was a little uncertain. I did fine. It got humid toward the top, especially when the forest thinned out and all that was left was the mountain ground cover. I was a bit surprised that there were only 3 small opening s for the caves. I didn't realize that it was too early in the season for the caves to be of any size. But there was a very cool, moist breeze coming out of them and I squatted down in front of one to cool off. I got someone to take a picture of me up there and then started back.

I was a little disappointed in myself that I didn't get this done as myself. and I thought on that as I was walking back the trail. It occurred to me that I should think of this as "Michael's Last Hike." As I was heading back down the trail, I started singing to myself the chorus to REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight this Feeling" :

And I cant fight this feeling anymore
Ive forgotten what I started fighting for
Its time to bring this ship into the shore
And throw away the oars, forever

In the context of my transition, sing about myself to myself, the whole song applies very well. So, instead of Shannon's First Hike, definitely became Michael's Last Hike.

I saw the doc today and it is not PAD just a doozy of a strain

the Big 4 Ice Caves...

2009-07-18T20:44:00.000-07:00

It seems cooler this morning tho my bedroom never got below 70 last night. It's supposed to be cooler today, but after yesterday's 88, I'm not sure if it's gonna be comfortable. I think I've decided to got the the Big 4 and the Ice Caves. I will get more exercise and be able to get some nice pics. I can stop at the Lake 22 trailhead, too.

Friday night heat...

2009-07-17T20:40:00.000-07:00

It's after nine in the evening. My fan has been going on high all day and it is still 78+ i my room. It's gonna be awhile before I get to sleep. I suppose I could take some benadryl but I'd rather not.

I'm going up in the mountains tomorrow. I'm not sure whether I'll go fishing or go up to the Big 4 Ice Caves or do the Mountain Loop. I'll make up my mind in the morning, prolly on the way.

Check-In...

2009-07-15T20:28:00.000-07:00

Morning bg is 168. Want to get it to 140 or under. Weight is 236. so I am down a little bit.

I've got chicken Soup Brigade today and group tonight I will be filling out job apps to day in the morning. I need to set some time aside for my bible study. I want to continue to do my walking./ I am planning to clean my bike up some and start riding it again. Lotsa "plans" ☹.

It's foggy and cool this morning. I like it. The fan is in the widow on low. I can see drops of water in the screen and feel the cool moisture on my face pulled in by the fan. The weather is supposed to burn off and be sunny today.

The Fence...

2009-07-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

It's cold [for July] and wet this morning. It will probably be good weather to work on the fence. Rich might be able to finish it today... tomorrow for sure.

I've been using my Life Recovery Bible to do a study [of sorts] of the Serenity Prayer.

[I didn't get back to that did I?]

Rich showed up abut a quarter to eight. He and chris worked solid to about 4PM. I helped some. Enough so I was very tired the rest of the evening. But, it's done. It's done.

Getting in Shape...

2009-07-11T20:21:00.000-07:00

Pam is "out" doing whatever. I'm almost finished with my "Healthy Choice " Chicken Tortilla Soup. It's a keeper. I have to lose a lot of weight; 30 to 40 lbs. Portions sizes, appropriate e foods, and "fork down/spoon down" are going to be keys for me. That and choosing better snack foods. But portion size and slowing down or dragging out my meals are probably the biggest diet goals. I have to walk a lot more, too. Riding my bike once in a while wont hurt me an, either. I want to make use of Allrecipies.com to come up with different meals that would help me.

"Jackass!"

2009-07-07T20:07:00.000-07:00

That's what she called me.

Serenity again...

2009-07-06T20:03:00.000-07:00

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I cannot change other people. I must accept this. I can change the situation to protect myself from the things others say or do to hurt me. This will take courage. I don't have to be the victim of someone else's issues. I cannot "fix" their issues, but I can live my life with dignity.

Serenity Prayer

2009-07-02T19:55:00.000-07:00

I need the serenity to accept the consequences of my actions. I need to own what I do, good or bad. It takes courage to step up and accept, own, the consequences of my-actions. Sometimes I do-this. Sometimes, I try to mitigate the impact. Mitigation usually is of little value.

Who am I, Jesus, that you call me by name? [Kim Hill]

Who am I on the inside where only God sees?

Who am I? Who is the person God created me to be? How does my life bring honor and glory and praise to you, Daddy?

God Grant me...

2009-07-01T19:53:00.000-07:00

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference

What a day Sunday was!...

2009-06-10T19:47:00.000-07:00

The Everett Community College graduation on Sunday was fabulous! I felt wonderful! Michael (the boy) was nowhere to be found. I think I looked really good. I ran a little late, but I decided that was fine. I got there before it started. Only one person read me and that was my old A&P professor. She remembered me when I introduced myself [Shannon] to her. I had to say "Hi!" to her. she was always my favorite and she knew about me. She stood up for me. But that was 4+ years ago.

Everett Events Center - Comcast Arena

2009-06-07T19:43:00.000-07:00

I am here! He's not here! I don't feel him here at all!

Yesterday, at Starbucks on Broadway...

2009-05-21T19:35:00.000-07:00

I try to ignore my depression. It is definitely there. Nothing really excites me. I am always "tired". I am actively chasing online gender porn. I am barely functional. Sources for my continued depression are my joblessness and my continuing to live in the closet. I am the one who needs to act to deal with both poisons. This weekend is an arbitrary jumping-off event. Tim is getting married.. I "needed" to be off work so I can participate in Tim's wedding [I'm the best "man"] and I couldn't come out or leave Pam before because I would not tolerate Pam and I being topics at Tim's wedding. The Problem is... after the wedding, will I really act on finding work? Will I finally finally finally! come out an be myself?

The police and Shannon

2009-05-20T08:36:00.000-07:00

Last week, coming home from my meeting, a cop pulled up behind me. I immediately went to speed limit - 5, and stayed straight and narrow [or as straight as I ever get]. I came up to the next big light and Mr. Policeman was still right behind me. There was another cop in the left turn lane going the other way. I pulled through the intersection and I saw all these blue lights behind me, so I pulled over in a parking lot and fished out my I.D. My driver’s license has not yet been changed to reflect my new realities *sigh*.

The police officer took my I.D. and told me the ball hitch on my truck was obscuring my license plate. That was a first! He went back to his patrol car and a little while later came back with my registration and my insurance card. Hmmmmm... Now in a sense I’ve been here before. There is a man in my county with exactly the same name as my male name and .he. .is. .not. .a. .nice. .man. I’ve been pulled over by the police before looking for him. When we went to pay off our house, there was a lien on it for back child support for this guy. So, I figure this is another case of “do we got the right person?”

I think he figured it out pretty quickly. After a few minutes the SECOND cop comes up to me returning my driver’s license! What’s goin’ on here? After they drove off, I think I figured it out. They both wanted to see the tranny! Ah well, It’s a common occurrence [or at least a common fear] in a transgender’s journey to get pulled over by the police as yourself but with the “old“ I.D. Now, I’ve had mine.

Sunday at First Cong

2009-04-26T19:31:00.000-07:00

The pastor is speaking on Love. I was 20 minutes late. Hate being late.

Poppa, I am ere. Here in body anyway. Help me to be here in Spirit and in my heart. Help me to be present to my fears. Open my heart and help me to be here for You. Please?!?!

My Place In This World...

2009-04-17T21:40:00.000-07:00

[song on the iPod is Michael W Smith's "A Place In This World"]

Sometimes I feel like I am 16, trying to see my path, my journey, my place in this world. I feel like I have come to a place where I have opened that last closet to the Lord. I can see him nodding and smiling at me. and I can hear him saying, "Now we can get to work." Like it was part of the Plan; that I had to come to this place on the path to be ready to do the work with Jesus that he will enjoy doing with me.

Yesterday, at Church

2009-03-30T19:23:00.000-07:00

..... at First Congregational United Church of Christ...

It's the first time I've been to church in a long time. And the first time in more than 10 years as myself. Actually, only the second time ever.

Please Poppa, fill me with you. Rekindle my passion for you. Break my heart and help me cry.

..... Waiting for a friend at IHOP...

Waiting for a friend... Somehow I think I have many more friends than I thought. A lot of these people that I am calling friends now were people that I knew before as Michael. I guess I'm surprised [a little] that they hung with me.

Who am I?

2009-03-29T01:44:00.000-07:00

Who am I? The question of adolescence.

Who am I? The question of gender transition. There are differences. Typical adolescence starts with more innocence, more possibilities and more fellow travelers. For me, the adolescence of gender transition has been burdened with the responsibilities of being a husband and father, hindered with the foreknowledge of sexuality, and often shackled by second thoughts.

There is a lot I am trying to figure out about myself. My nature is to drift with the current, indeed shooting rapids without a paddle. I need to visualize who I am and who I want to be. I hear what people say to me about what my life can be and, mostly, I just smile and nod my head and not quite ignore and certainly not act on what they say. I am afraid of the future. I’m afraid of the moral implications. I do not consider what consequences are for me. I do not consider the consequences because I would face a decision about which set of consequences I might choose. But there really are not two sets of consequences. It is a “pay me now, or pay me later” world. By not deciding with the pretext of the “consequences” for my family, I only postpone the pain and discomfort for everyone. Any chance my family, the people I love , have of having joy in their lives where my life touches theirs is withheld. Any chance of living with joy that I may have becomes like a steak put into a freezer for later and forgotten; the freezer burn robs the flavor the steak could have had.

A Very Merry Unbirthday to Me...

2009-03-24T15:53:00.000-07:00

In Alice in wonderland, Disney version, there is a big birthday scene where the characters are celebrating an Un-Birthday! You have 364 unbitrthdays every year, don’t ya know. I had my 56th birthday this last Sunday. And today is an unbirthday. so... A very merry unbirthday to Me! and you too, of course.

I was chatting with a friend this morning and she told me, “I just wanted to make sure that you know that I believe you are a fantastic person. and that you have the world right there for you.” I very much appreciate what she said but I am a bit puzzled, too. I am not at all sure what she meant. I’m gonna have to ask her what she meant when I see her next.

An introduction if I may...

2009-03-22T13:48:00.000-07:00

I am a 56 year-old, transgendered or transsexual woman. I want to live the rest of my life as a woman. Living as a woman fits me better than trying to live as a man ever has. I have wanted to be a girl, and now a woman since I was very little. Like many others I got married thinking that I would be finally complete and not need to be a woman anymore. Nearly thirty years and two wonderful Christian children later... I am ready to “be nobody but [myself] in a world that's doing its best to make [me] somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle [I am] ever going to fight. [I’ll] Never stop fighting.” (e.e.cummings)

I have always tried to be a good boy, a good husband, a good father, a good Christian. But the definition of “a good...” was always everyone else’s definition. Now my goal is to be a good woman, a good partner, a better father [without the deceit I have necessarily practiced] and a good follower of the Way of Jesus, the Christ.