Monday, November 9, 2009
I'm dating a woman. Yes, a woman. I know... but hey, I'm already a complete outcast (enough to not be invited to my grandparents' 70th anniversary celebration), so why not just go all the way? Yup, I'm a transgendered lesbian. And... gasp... I think people should be okay with me.
I'm dating a woman. She is beautiful, smart, funny, and I really like her. Here's the weird part. She likes me. No, really. She likes the me who shows up here... not the me that the rest of the world sees. She likes the whole me.
She tells me that she doesn't see me as a man, or as a woman; she sees me as beautiful... awe... it makes me cry just thinking about it! :*) So, I really like her. Did I say that already?
I don't know what else to say about it, other than the fact that I am very happy to be involved with her. (I think this could be real!!!! GASP!!!!)
Sunday, November 1, 2009
This has been a monumental weekend. I have officially completed the course-work for the first of my classes. It has certainly taken more effort than I anticipated, but it seems manageable. I am happy to have this little milestone achieved.
On a less festive note, another Halloween has come and gone. Halloween is by far my most favorite holiday of them all. Of course, we all know why that is – it’s the one time of year when boys in dresses raise little more than a chuckle from the neighbors. Sadly, as with most Halloween evenings, I again did nothing at all this year. I have been very depressed about it all weekend. The problem is that I am surrounded by absolutely ZERO friends with whom I can be myself. Yes, you’re out there, and I love each and every one of you; but as usual, I’m a bazillion miles away from you all with no chance of getting together.
With little else to do this weekend, I reflected a whole bunch on this whole Halloween thing. Okay, not entirely accurate. I watched a bunch of sappy love stories (“Imagine Me and You,” “The Lake House,” “Sweet November,” “Somewhere In Time,” you know, that kind of thing), cried for hours on end, wondered if I would ever feel the flutter of emotion that comes from seeing a man crouch on one knee in front of me, cried some more, had some drinks, did a bunch of Facebooking, THEN reflected a whole bunch on this whole Halloween thing. As I semi-publicly lamented my lack of Halloween festivity again this year, I received a comment on FB that really gave me pause. The comment was:
Here is your prescription: On Saturday, dress to the nines, and go out. GoGreat advice, and I dearly love my good friend who offered it, but a particular part of the comment really stuck with me – “the only day of the year you can get away with it [emphasis added].” Is that what I’ve been doing? I suppose it is.
anywhere you'd like; because it's freakin' Halloween and the only day of the
year that you can get away with it! Do it! (You know you wanna). DON'T HOLD
I’m living for the one night I can “get away with it,” when what I really want is to live every day of my life externally aligned with the person I feel like on the inside. I realize that I am placing so much importance on Halloween, because it is the one day that I am still “safe.” The truth is that I am still so afraid of the potential consequences of openly expressing who I am to the outside world that I am still hiding behind the guise of plausible deniability. I don’t have to actually take a chance; I don’t have to actually admit anything when I can say, “hey, it’s just in fun… you know, for Halloween.”
That is not what I want. I have been deluding myself. I cannot keep clinging to these stupid safety nets! Eventually, I’m going to have to learn how to work without them. Oh boy. I’m scared. I’m going to need a lot of friends!
Monday, October 19, 2009
I know that I have been somewhat less than present in recent months. I must apologize. This is not for any lack of things to write about, honestly. The truth is that I am trying to make some larger scale preparations for a final transition. It is no secret to the group here that I have dreamed of correcting my sex for almost as many years as I have been alive. Over the last couple years, I've had to deal with a somewhat new set of issues.
In ancient times, transition was hindered not only by fear, but also by finance. Having these things corrected is outrageously expensive! The electrolysis alone is enough to put a person in the poor house. In recent years, the financial concern is far less significant; however, the career that makes transition less financially daunting is itself threatened by the act of transitioning. Frustrating.
With a great deal of cypherin’ and gazinto’s I realized that there was really only one viable preventative measure. I had to take steps to insure that I would have some avenue to continue to support myself even after transition. With that in mind, I enrolled in college (again) a couple months ago, and I've been very focused on that effort ever since. This new effort is exciting but exhausting.
I have been devoting a lot of hours to study, and frankly with all the writing I’m doing to support my coursework, I've had little interest in writing for my blogs. It’s nothing personal. It’s just the best way I can see right now to facilitate a transition without sacrificing my entire livelihood. And… I won’t deny that I am a little excited by the concept of finally doing something more fulfilling. Yay me!
That said, I hope y’all understand that I am not turning my back on the community or anything like that. I don’t want to disappear entirely, so I will try to continue to check in as much as possible. In the mean time, wish me well!
P.S. I do have an actual post brewing around something that happened in class last week, but it will take me a few days to get it together. Suffice to say that I am steaming about it at the moment. I hope that posting here will help to alleviate my aggravation… though I’m sure it will probably annoy a few of you as well, so for that I apologize in advance! Take care!
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Not much going on these days. Still trying to lose weight. Still haven't been able to get out (mostly my own stupid inhibitions keeping that from happening). Still just being.
I have a lot of thoughts that I'd like to get out there, so hopefully I find some time to do some real writing soon. in the mean time, I hope y'all are doing well, and please don't worry... I'm okay.
Monday, August 17, 2009
I shouldn't be allowed to post while drinking... though I am drinking now. I shouldn't be allowed to post while drinking after spending an entire day alone followed by chickening out at the prospect of going to a bar alone even though I know that it would be better than sitting home alone and deciding instead to watch depressing (but good) movies... while drinking. Yeah, that's it.
Battling depression can be very difficult as my post last night no doubt supports. It's a little ironic, honestly. I put myself in most of the situations that have me feeling trapped. I create the walls that keep the meaningful friendships out. I have not been ostracized. I have sequestered myself. Yet, somehow I still feel powerless to change that reality.
I played with makeup yesterday. That didn't help. I haven't "transformed" in a couple years; in fact, I haven't even played around with makeup since the last "transformation." The end result was scary. It brought back memories of the first time I ever wore makeup (not counting my own pathetic experiments). Those of you who have ever read any "transgender fiction" or other gender diverse literature - you know who you are! - will recall the typical format of any good fictional story:
- The boy reluctantly agrees to allow some important female figure to dress him up.
- Once dressed (or vice-versa), he is convinced to go ahead and try just a little makeup.
- The temptress finishes her work and - to both his and her amazement - reveals a teenage beauty queen emerging from the rough canvas of geeky teenage boyhood.
How many of us have fantasized that with just a little eyeshadow and lipstick, we too would magically transform into the image of feminine beauty? I'll never forget the first time a female friend made me up. I was disappointed not because the experiment was brutally embarrassingly interrupted by unexpected visitors (a funny story in and of itself), but because of the utter disappointment I felt at seeing how I "really" looked. I hoped and prayed for the unveiling of feminine beauty. After what seemed like hours of hair styling (yes, I really did have long hair back then) and subsequent face painting, my grand unveiling did reveal something unexpected.
I saw me with makeup on. My friend was insistent that I totally looked like a girl, and maybe I did; but I saw the same face. I saw the same person. And I saw the paints that were trying to hide the reality of my being. My experiments yesterday yielded much the same result.
I don't know what I expect to uncover by covering myself in pigments and paint. I don't know what revelations I hope to encounter through the application of lip color and mascara. I do know that the person that "shines" through is still me. She is not the woman of my dreams, nor - I suspect - is she the woman of any other man's dreams. She is just a sad, awkwardly painted mess who reveals more in the emptiness of her smile than in the brightness of her eye shadow.
Who said, "a little paint and some new shutters can do wonders for the resale value?"
Saturday, August 15, 2009
And everything I see reminds me of that. I see the glory of God's creation, and I hear them shouting and laughing... "it's not for you, fag!" I see happy couples and know that no one could be happy with the twisted gruesome mess that is my life to bear. I am damaged, broken, obscene. I don't belong in polite society. I deserve all the isolation, loneliness, misery, and hollowness that I feel. I am not normal. Only normal people deserve to share this life. Ask them.
It was supposed to be a good day, but then I remembered that I am truly and utterly alone. And no good work, no penance, no revelation or epiphany will ever change that. Fat, thin, pretty, or grotesque - I am alone. Separated from society, safely tucked away where I belong... as if there were anywhere that I belonged.
Make it stop.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Well, I've been very focused on trying to lose weight, and that has absorbed a lot of time. I hate to admit it, but I've had very little luck affecting my eating habits. While I am definitely eating better "quality" foods (very little fried and / or breaded stuff and far fewer stops at fast food drive-thu's, etc.), my diet is still pretty terrible. HOWEVER! I have more than made up for that weakness with physical activity, and I have been seeing some definite results. [SMILES!] I've even started getting comments from coworkers about my weight loss [GIDDY SMILES!], which always makes me feel great.
The best part is that I pulled out my favorite black denim skirt this morning... just to see. It hasn't fit in over a year [sad face]. This morning though, I slipped it on with ease and didn't even have to "suck it up" to get the button fastened and the zipper up. [GIDDY SMILING SOMERSAULTS!] The best part is that even when I first bought it, I had to really struggle to get into it... and I considered that "a good fit." HA HA!
Beyond that, I was (perhaps somewhat vainly) staring at my legs in the mirror the other day (after a coworker commented that she thought even my legs looked thinner), and I'm amazed at how much more slender they have become. Yay for me!! :)
So, I'm still out here, everything is going well, and I'm looking forward to fall cooler weather and a reemergence for skinny Katie. [and the crowd goes wild!]
Hope everyone is well. Leave a note and let me know you're still out there!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
In other news, I finally bought a scale today. That was a little depressing... not buying the scale (that was fun)... stepping on the scale was a little shocking. I knew I was overweight, but YIKES!!! On the up side, I took photos of myself back in January when I decided that this was finally the year I would get back to being skinny Kate. Of course, then I promptly did nothing about it until last month. But the up side... I took a few shots today in the same poses from January, and when I view them side-by-side; I can see PROGRESS!!! It's not much, but my belly is definitely smaller than it was, and my face is slimmer too. Yay!!!! And the best part is that, despite the "sticker shock" of actually seeing a number associated with my fatness, I am feeling really motivated about hitting my goal weight. I think I'll plan a Halloween party to celebrate (that's when I'm supposed to achieve my goal weight).
I also figured out today that I am only one payment (this month's!!) away from having one of my many debts eliminated. This is a really awesome feeling, and I can't wait until I'm finally nailing the coffin shut on the last of my debts. Of course, my little shopping spree today didn't help, but hey... it was MAC!
That's all for now. Carry on.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Transgenderism (a.k.a. transsexualism, gender dysphoria, homoerotic tendencies, controlled psychosis, etc.) is a touchy subject in the Christian community. It's touchy in that most try very hard NOT to touch it, and those who do, touch only enough to elicit the moniker "compassionate." The idea does spur some debate though, largely among our simpler minded friends on the extreme fringes: queers will burn in hell, God hates fags - you know the rhetoric. Let me offer my spin.
I don't think my gender issues (or my decision (should I decide it) to correct my gender confusion through surgical reassignment) are issues of sin or salvation. The fact that I choose to become female to fully reflect how I feel about who I am is no more sinful (or damning) than the decision to have a tummy tuck, face lift, or nose job. My concern is not forgiveness. I believe that I am no less forgiven than any other sinner. If "death row confessions" get a murderer into heaven, then what less chance do I, who has never ended the existence of one of God's chosen, have of obtaining the same salvation?
My concern is one of mission.
When you break it down. God, through Jesus, is really asking for something simple (not easy... simple. There is a difference). He wants us to follow. We are called to follow Christ's example to the world - to live a servant's life, to advance God's kingdom through acts of self-sacrifice. This self-sacrifice is not an act of violence, but an act of love. We are called to wash our servant's feet - to work selflessly in the world for the betterment of God's kingdom. In what way does my conversion to femininity accomplish this simple mission?
Who's life is improved by a surgeon's inversion of my penis? Who's life is improved by my ability to not create weird lumps in a bikini? Yes, mine. But was I called to improve my life?
This is my crisis of faith. It is not a question of whether I am saved, but a question of whether my actions further God's purpose for me. I can believe that making the change may further my purpose, but sometimes, that is a real stretch. It assumes that I cannot live selflessly and as a servant until I am able to live in a specific gender role. And if I am capable of living selflessly and as a servant without changing my sex, what then is the purpose of changing my sex?
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Texas is just a tad toasty today. Even with my A/C cranked, I still need a fan to avoid breaking out in a sweat... YUCK! I was planning to go back to 1851 Club tonight; I have not been there in about a year, but I have really wanted to get back there for a while now. I doubt I will make it tonight though! The last thing anyone needs is to see the sweaty mess in makeup that I would inevitably be by the time I even got to the club! Oh well.
I think that I might wait until I've achieved some respectable weight loss now that I think about it. Internally, my goal has been to be rid of my horrendous midsection by Halloween, which would then be a great time for a "Grand Re-Entrance on the Scene" for a new slimmer (and as always, sexy) Kate. Lord knows, I'm male looking enough as it is - all the extra weight (in all the wrong places) leaves absolutely no illusion of femininity. Yes, that will be my goal!
The other plus about this approach is that I am finally starting to see some "results" in the boob area :) [blush], so maybe by then I can truly go "au naturelle." I hate wearing forms... so... fake feeling.
Not much else to report these days, so I will say adieu for now. I do have a couple more intimate posts brewing, and I hope that I will be able to have them ready soon. In the mean time, I promise to keep in touch! (You probably shouldn't believe me... I'm really bad at it)
Girl Power!! :)
Monday, June 1, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
I'm making an exception this one time. I was very touched by this video. I don't think I would have shared the exact same message, but Jelissa's presentation was no less compelling. I like the idea that we are entering a new era. I like the idea that gender is naturally becoming less objective. I think that the big mistake in this video is to suggest that the societal view of transgenderism has not progressed since the time of Christine Jorgensen. It is true that we are probably still a thirty or forty years from realizing societal peace (if such a thing will EVER be possible), but there is no denying that the resources available to the transgender community today have progressed significantly.
I am not that old... I'm not! Shut up. I am not that old, but even in my life time the changes are noticeable. When I first began to realize the nature of my "queerness," the closest thing available to me in the way of information was the TV sitcom "Bosom Buddies." There were no transgender forums, no easily accessible data / opinions / examples at my fingertips. Things have changed - thanks primarily to the Internet. Regardless, I found this video compelling, and I'd love to share it with you:
Thursday, May 21, 2009
I do not believe in coincidence. Everything happens for a reason. The problem is that I can never figure out the damn reason! Whenever I choose, I am invariably presented with a "promise" that begs my redirection. The confusing part is that I don't know from where these promises originate. Am I compelled to move toward my femininity because that is the path toward God's plan for me, or is that merely a plot to keep me from realizing my purpose? Whenever I decide to embrace my femininity, why I am immediately presented with the opportunity to enhance my masculinity? Is the promise of a woman's love an offering from God, or is it a trick to keep me off the path to reconciliation? I am so confused.
The worst part is that I don't understand why I need to choose. I am an attractive man, and I enjoy a lot of benefit from my male life (great career, lots of money, meaningful friendships). I enjoy a lot of the positives of my masculinity, but there is a whole other side. I am soft and gentle. I love to love, and I love to be loved. I want nothing more than to be beautiful in someones eyes. I am feminine by nature, so much so that I have to make a conscious effort NOT to respond naturally to stimuli. I'm also pretty cute (well... :) I think so). So why can't I be both?
Why should any of us have to choose? What is wrong with living my life along the line that I instinctively see in front of me? I'm not entirely anything. So, why can't I be who I am... someone who resides comfortably in between?
Just a thought.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
I was dwelling a little last night on the topic of sex. Oddly, this is not something that I think about very often - I think a LOT about feelings of loneliness and the longing for intimacy, but sex is rarely a topic for consideration. I wouldn't suggest that sex isn't an interest, but it is certainly very low on my list of priorities, especially right now. Honestly, I've lived a relatively asexual life, and for the most part this doesn't bother me.
The problem I have is that sex, and really, attraction is very confusing. I am attracted to men in general, but seldom to any man specifically. I am also intensely interested in women, and I suspect that I am bisexual leaning slightly to the lesbian side of things. Here's where it gets confusing though. While I am incessantly interested in women, and often even attracted to them, I never know quite what those feelings mean. It's a phenomenon my ex-wife and I coined "The Do or Be Conundrum." See, when I look at a woman, I'm never really sure whether my interest stems from the desire to have relations with her (do) or from the desire to embody her femininity (be). Shut up! I thought it was pretty clever.
In a similar vein, my attraction to men falls all over the map emotionally. In all honesty, I think that my interest relates more to the idea of behaving as a "normal" woman, than it necessarily does to the idea of actually being intimate with a man. I think this is why I seldom feel any real attraction to specific men, (Except for David Duchovny, of course - he can have me any time and anywhere!) even though a majority of my fantasies (though the sexual ones are very few and far between) center on intimacy with a man. It's all very confusing.
In the end, it is usually just simpler not to think about it, so generally, I don't. When I do ponder the idea of sexuality, I often wonder if I would feel less confusion without the presence of a physiological response to stimuli, but ironically, that physiological response is relatively equal regardless of the gender of the specific stimulus. I suppose that makes it a non-factor, but still I wonder. Without the "offending organ," would I find women attractive? I suspect I would.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
It sounds to me like most girls pick a name and stick with it; this has not been my approach. I have actually renamed myself at least a half dozen times over the years. These changes largely coincide with other changes I make to my approach to handling my transgenderism. For example, when I finally collected all the appropriate accouterments to make a complete transformation, I took a new name to mark that new phase of my life.
I'm given to understand that not all T-people take on a new "gender appropriate" name, but interestingly it was one of the first things I ever did. Before I ever tried women's clothes, before I experimented with makeup or tried shaving my legs, I took a feminine name. In my dream worlds, in the solitude of my bedroom, I had a name. I think I was around 11 or 12 when I first named myself. I decided that my name would be Melissa.
The first time I changed my name stemmed from the realization that my chosen name could be shortened to a masculine nickname. That thought was wholly unacceptable. I wanted to be a woman, and I didn't want any ambiguity about it. When someone called my name, I wanted it to be clear that a woman would respond. I believe the first evolution was to Sonya (I don't know why... most of the time I picked a name that I associated with someone I found beautiful). That was probably around the time I turned 15 or so. From that instance on, I never again assumed a name that could be shortened or in any other way be interpreted as masculine.
The next time I changed my name was after I started living on my own and no longer had to hide my "spoils." Well, that was only partially true. I had a roommate, and despite my deep desires, I still could not find the courage to tell anyone about myself. That came about a year later (well... sort of). I don't remember the specific name I took back then. I remember that the next name change occurred several years later, after I had finally collected the proper "equipment" for the total transformation... yes that was several years later. Sad isn't it? Then I became Rebecca Lynn. I remained Rebecca Lynn for several years, right into marriage and children.
At a certain point, around my fourth year of marriage or so, the right combination of circumstances finally fell into place, and I was able to make a public appearance or two. At this time, I changed my name to Jennifer Lynn (Jenny for short). Honestly, that was always my favorite name, and I've toyed many times with going back to it. I never have though. Around my tenth year of marriage, things began to fall apart. My then wife had decided she couldn't take being with me anymore (frankly, I had checked out emotionally a couple years before), and it was decided that we would separate.
In that period of life, I made a second decision. I was going to transition. I sought out counseling, managed to get myself on hormones, and even started electrolysis. To mark this major development, I decided it was time to bring my name back home. One evening while reminiscing about something or other, I remembered a childhood "fantasy" of sorts. I've never had a nickname, largely because my male name is very concise and not conducive to such things; but many of my cousins and other family members would often call me by my initials - K.D. Every time I heard someone call me K.D., my mind would translate that to Katie, and my heart would flutter with joy at the idea of being called by a feminine name.
It was that memory that spurred the adoption of the name Kate, or Katherine.
Is that weird to you all? Or has anyone else done something like that? What are your quirks? I'd love to hear your stories!
Katie Anne DeLong
BTW - the montage in my title block is a combination of photos from the Jenny and Katie periods. :)
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I was really hoping to make a post tonight, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen. I got a little over-involved with my "straight" blog reviewing a movie I watched this evening. If anyone here is interested in checking that out, I'll post the link below.
I do hope that everyone is having a wonderful week! I promise I'll get a post or two up (real ones, that is) in the next day or two.
The other white meat: http://to-blave.blogspot.com/
Monday, April 27, 2009
It is official (as official as something that is practically a year away can be), I will be relocating to the Atlanta, Georgia area early next year. I have been doing a lot of research… okay, a little research on the area, and I must say I’m fairly excited by the prospect. From a cultural perspective, I believe Atlanta has a lot more to offer someone of my “distinction” than I have been able to discover in Texas. The mere Internet presence of Atlanta based resources alone is enough to validate that.
So, one of the things I’m trying really hard not to do right now is to make too many long range plans. One of the problems I have faced over the years is that I tend to spook easily, and this usually happens when I start considering all the “what if’s” stemming from a decision. While I certainly cannot be accused of over planning anything, it is no secret that I exhaustively over think everything. When I over think, I freak. I don’t want to freak, because then I do stupid things like quitting electrolysis, and running from beneficial relationships. To the best of my ability, I am trying not to fall into this trap again.
That said I have a few goals I’d like to work toward – a set of milestones that I’d like to accomplish prior to making the move to Georgia. Some are modest goals, others a little more aggressive; but I believe they are all achievable. And regardless of my ultimate outcome (which I am NOT thinking about!), they will all have a positive impact on my life (or at least will not have a negative impact). Here goes:
- Come out to my family
- Establish a healthier lifestyle with good eating and exercise habits
- Save money so I can afford a down payment on a house
- Quit drinking (excessively)
- Lose at least 50 pounds
- Start electrolysis again
- Get my ears pierced (FINALLY!)
- Start practicing music again
- Learn to dance
I think that about covers it. The electrolysis part may be a little too aggressive; it is expensive after all, so it may have to wait until AFTER I have saved enough for a down payment on a house. Otherwise, I believe all of these things are reasonably achievable in the amount of time I have (about 11 months from now). In fact, some of my goals facilitate the achievement of others, which will certainly help.
What do you think? Do you think my goals are achievable? Do you have any suggestions that you’d like to make? I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
I am also hopeful that I can turn this particular move into the "right move." Assuming that all progresses as I suspect it will, Georgia will be my fourth state of residence in the last ten years. With each move, I have hoped and prayed that my new home would lead me closer to the resolution of my gender confusion; and with each move, I have reverted to my safe and comfortable (if lonely and miserable) closet. I've taken steps in the past, and continue with some of them today - everything from brief stints with counselors to hormones, to electrolysis and waxing. I've taken baby steps, but each has been followed by bounding leaps back away from the person I believe I truly am. I am determined, however, to make this next move count.
I don't know what that will mean. At the very least, and as a first step, I intend to live my life (at least my personal life) much more openly, and to take advantage of opportunities to explore life in the correct gender role. At the most, I could end with a complete transition, though I am choosing not to think it that far ahead. My first step is to reconcile myself with... well... myself. I want to live openly and unafraid of how that is interpreted by the world. I believe I can get there.
I've started this blog (one of several I have maintained over the years) for the express purpose of documenting my journey. I hope that those who choose to follow along will both enjoy the tales and contribute their own. I look forward to sharing the adventure with you!