I wrote this a while ago and it is my favorite. I felt this from my heart and it seemed to write itself. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
There are some lives that, for entirely random reasons, occur and are painful in the loneliness that they need to endure. Rebecca’s was one such life.
She was an only child of two professional parents. She was the product of their façade of a family to further the thin veneer that their careers required. …
I wrote this over two years ago when I discovered I wasn’t mentally ill and my lifelong shame and guilt began to give way to righteous anger and a generous heart. I still read this as a reminder of what I was forced to live with for what is basically a medical condition. Until then, scociety regularly made me feel ashamed.
I read recently that we are living the golden age of stupidity and I agree.
Gender dysphoria is a treatable medical condition. I wish the media would spend just a little more time sharing this truth instead of pandering to the sensational-hungry ignorance of the general population. Transgender people are being driven to suicide, being murdered, having their civil rights violated and their human dignity stripped away, all because this simple truth is buried under deliberate and unchallenged lies.
I remember when I was a child, the teacher would use repetition to get difficult students to learn their lessons. …
I wasn’t going to write this.
I was in the World Trade Center on 911. I parked my car in the North Tower parking lot that morning. I forgot some paperwork for a breakfast meeting and took a train up town to get them. I was scheduled for a meeting at the Windows of the World that morning. I was late, a friend of mine from work wasn’t.
He died. He had a wife and two young kids.
I evacuated my team and we walked across the 59th Street Bridge. The husband of one of the woman with us was…
Jenga is a game that players take turns removing one block at a time from a tower constructed of 54 blocks. Each block removed is then placed on top of the tower, creating a progressively more unstable structure.
I had no idea that when I discovered that I was transgender almost four years ago that I had started a game of Jenga with my life. Until then my life was a stable series of blocks that defined who and what I was. They were stacked in a very orderly way. …
Friendship is a relationship of mutual affection between people. It is a stronger form of interpersonal bond than an association. Although there are many forms of friendship they generally include choosing to be with one another, enjoying time spent together, and being able to engage in a positive and supportive role to one another.
If I decide to fully transition and come out to my friends, I expect their first reaction to be shock. I would feel the same way if I was told that a lifelong friend was suddenly “changing” their gender.
It’s a lot to take in.
When you spend a lifetime being told you are wrong by those you love, your community, your religion and society in general, you are forced to take your reality into a world of dreams and wishes. It is your private space and you get to redefine the artificial reality that you are forced to live in with the one in your heart.
This is one of the great tragedies that are forced on people who are born transgender. Their spirit rarely gets to breathe fresh air. …
For the last three years I have challenged my own understanding of biological sex assignment at birth and a person’s innate sense of gender.
I have come to the conclusion after all this time that three types of people exist who do not accept that gender incongruence is actually experienced by transgender people as a medical fact. First are those who lack the intellectual capacity to grasp a non-tangible concept; second are those who choose to be intellectually lazy; finally come those who choose to be militantly ignorant.
This last group is what I call the “gender flat-worlders”.
So many songs trigger meaning for someone dealing with gender dysphoria. For me as a baby boomer, every once in a while the song Que Sera Sera sung by Doris Day in the 1960 movie “Please Don’t Eat the Daisies” pops into my head. The first two stanzas get stuck on a replay thread in my head:
When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother, what will I be
Will I be pretty
Will I be rich
Here’s what she said to me
Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see…