A tale of two Births

A tale of two births

This is going to sound really really strange, but I have been born twice. There was the birth where I came kicking and screaming out of my mother and the doctor proclaimed “ITS A BOY!” Oh how wrong he would turn out to be, and then there was the birth of the woman I am today. Both are very important for pretty obvious reasons which is why I am going to talk about both instead of just focusing on one or the other. The latter birth is a lot more interesting and exciting than the former, but the former is still worth talking about a little. So, hold tight kids and enjoy the ride.

I don't know much of the birth where I came kicking and screaming out of my mother's womb. I know that it was in a hospital in Madison and that my father was the first person to hold me and he also named me in that moment. Ever since my father told me that, a few years ago, I have thought that it makes sense that he and I have had such a close relationship being that he was the first person I ever saw. I don't remember that obviously, but it makes sense that we would be close because of it. I also know that originally my mom and dad thought I was going to be a girl. Years later when I would be told I would think, “tell me something I don't know.” It was only in the last few months of the pregnancy that they found out I was boy. Otherwise, I don't know much about that birth. My dad doesn't remember how long my mom was in labor, and since my mom and I aren't on speaking terms I can't ask her. My birth to the woman I am today is much more interesting.

Unlike the birth where I came kicking and screaming from my mother, the second birth didn't really involve any physical pain for me or anyone else. There was a lot of emotional pain suffered on my part, since I had been struggling with this feeling for 16 years, and my family, some of whom felt like they were suffering the loss of child, but there was no physical pain to speak of. It is hard to say when my second birth took place. The day I started the hormones could be one option. The day I met the person who changed my life could be another option. However, for the sake of time I am going to say that the birth took place the day I got prescribed the hormones.

January, 19th 2006, 16 days after my 17th birthday, I was prescribed the hormones. That week was also finals week of my first semester of my Junior year in high school. I skipped a final in order to go see my doctor to get prescribed the hormones. I was very excited that day. I had no idea what I would have to do in order to get them, but I knew I would do almost anything to get them. As I was waiting for the nurse to call me and my dad in I thought “Its almost over. All the pain and confusion I have felt all my life is going to lessen.”

All the bullshit therapy I had to go through, the constant wondering and yearning for this day, the constant feeling of depression I had felt all my life because of this issue, it was all almost over. I knew full well that the hormones wouldn't solve everything, but I knew it would be a giant step in the right direction in figuring who I was as a person. The nurse called us fairly quickly after we got there. She took my weight, blood pressure and all the other usual things they ask before they send the doctor in. She left and shortly after the doctor came in. He sat down and explain what dose he was going to prescribe me, told me about the possible side affects (I couldn't care less), and then handed me a form my dad and I, because I was only 17, had to sign that just explained everything he told me and then wrote the scripts.

I was grinning from ear to ear all day long. Told all my close friends, who knew I was trans, and they were so happy for me. After I was done with school I waited with anticipation for my dad to come home with the hormones. He got home at about 6 or so and I was at the door to meet him. I took the pill bottles inside my hand and just held them for a little while. I could feel the pain and confusion that I had all those years melt away. At around 10 just before I went to bed, I took them for the first time. I could feel the calming effect of them almost instantly. I slept like a baby that night, knowing that tomorrow would look a little bit brighter and that my life was on the right track.

Why shouldn't I express my anger?

Ever since I have started being a transgender activist I have faced the same old bullshit. I have been told my issues weren't important enough to focus on at my campus. Told that because there were so few out trans people on campus that there is no need to do anything to make my campus better for trans people. Told that change takes time and that "our", transgender people's, time will come soon enough. Told that I need to do this pretty much on my own if I expect any change to happen. Told that my experience coming out in high school isn't important, because the playwright wasn't "inspired" to write a trans character, and yet somehow the guy was "inspired" to write about the L, the G, and the B despite the fact that there isn't a chance in hell that he was all of them or fully understood their pain.

And yet I have also been told that I need to be calm. I need to be "reasonable". I need to be rational and logical and understanding that people don't get the whole trans thing. Told that I shouldn't express my anger and even that I SHOULDN'T be angry at all when shit like the stuff above happens. That is my job to be the understanding person, who educates and who is calm, cool and collected. That somehow I have a duty to show compassion when cis people fucking fail instead of calling their asses out on it and telling them whats what. Yet when a cis straight person is fucks up with LGB side of things the LGB are allowed to get angry and call them on it, but we trans people aren't. We aren't allowed to be angry. Why is that?

Why the fuck shouldn't we be angry? Why the fuck shouldn't we rage and call stupid cis fucks on their shit? Trans people have every right to be angry. We get fucked over not just by straight society, but by the very community we supposedly belong to. If we are lesbians as well as trans most cisgender lesbians don't want anything to do with us unless we have had the surgery. They define us purely on the fact that we have dicks when it comes to dating. The can say all they fucking want about how they really see us as womyn, but when it comes to dating they wont touch us and feel the need to clarify on their profiles that they are NOT transgender, as if it is some sor to of disease. Trans people are marginalized, misgendered, and told that our issues don't matter every fucking day and we are expected to just sit there and wait patiently for our "turn" and be nice, understanding and above all happy while we are waiting. FUCK THAT!

I am sick of being reasonable and being treated like a second class citizen in the supposed LGB"T" community. Sick of being told that I should hold my anger in when I am so mad I feel like I could punch a hole through a wall. I'm pissed off and sick of people telling me to be calm. I'm pissed off and sick of being told that I need to be patient and work with people who don't seem to give a fucking damn about anything I have to saying. I'm pissed off and I am sick of working with a system that doesn't want to work with me and goes in with the assumption that I am just there to "bitch" and don't have any ideas of what to do or a plan. I'm pissed off and sick of holding my anger in. Sick of pretending that I am not angry with how I am being treated. Well it ends to night. I'm a royally pissed off and dammit I am going to express my anger!!!!

Last Day of Summer

Today is my last day before school starts again. I am back at school now in the exact same dorm and room that I was in last year, only this time by myself. I have very mixed feelings about summer coming to an end. On the one hand overall it was boring and a disappointment.

Tried to get a job and failed miserably. Stuck dealing with my rampant conservative father and my idiot step-brother. Didn't get to spend nearly as much time with my friends because I had no way to get there. Sleep didn't really happen for a reason I haven't quite put my finger on and I didn't really have anything to say and thus I didn't blog. On the other hand there where some exciting things that went on.

My activism didn't completely go by the way side. I went to Socialism 2010 in Chicago which was amazing. Got involved with the ISO in my state. Protested the National Organization for Marriage (NOM) when the came to my state and we out numbered them by a ton! Shouting things like "YOU NEED A HUG A BIG GAY HUG!" and other awesome chants. Made some pretty awesome new friends from the ISO and got to know more the friends I already had. Then there was the last 9 days that I got to spend with this girl that I really like and who likes me back. 9 days wasn't enough and ended way to soon, but they were still the biggest highlight of my summer. Originally we were only going to spend 3 days, the weekend she moved here, with each other. She took me home that Monday after those 3 days and we were talking online after and decided 3 days WASN'T enough and 4 hours later I was with her again. I am so happy we did, I wouldn't change those 9 days for anything.

Those 9 days made me want summer to go for another month or two, but now its time to get back to school and my life outside of her. Once classes start tomorrow and I start having things to do things will get easier. I am really excited for my classes and all the clubs I am still involved with this year. Happy to see my lovely family here at school again. The new semester looks to be a very good one. Despite the boredom, lack of job and dealing with my family I will look back on this summer very fondly and with happy thoughts, but now its time for me to get back to the world again and continue to move my life forward.