Somuchtodo Andsolittle Thyme

Greetings kids!

Things have been soooo crazy. If I survive this year, it's a pretty safe bet that I am immortal. :o) I have made so many changes in the last six months, and have so many major milestones projected to occur this year, that I may quite possibly be dizzy for another decade. I am happy.

I really want to tell you all about all of it, but I've just not been able to spend the time. I will get there. In the mean time, I hope you are all doing well, and I'd love to hear what's going on with you. Leave a comment. Tell me how you are.

Peace, and hope to chat at you soon!

Love,
Kate

Hi I'm Here

No great revelations. Just stopping by to say hello.

Hello. Things are good; I am good. Just way too much going on to even breathe, much less create blog posts. I will be back, I promise.

After all, I have to tell you about the upcoming wedding (YYAAAAAAYYYY!!!!), and about my wedding dress. :) [floating amid fluffy clouds]

Take care!
Kate

Strange Brew

So... I think I might be in a relationship. I think I like it. The problem is that I keep looking over my shoulder for the hidden camera... waiting for the inevitable punch-line. I want to just let go and enjoy the feelings, but so far I have struggled to do that.

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 digress.

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!!!!)

And A Happy Halloween was had by… Some.

Greetings all,

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. Go
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
BACK!

Great 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.

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!

Checking In, Again.

Greetings all!
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!
Hugs,
K

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!

Don't Get Around Much Anymore

Hi there. I haven't been around in quite a while. I'm very sorry about that. I guess I went through a bit of a relapse there for a little while. I think I'm past it.

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.

Hugs.

Holy Crap On a Cracker

Sorry.

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?"

Peace,
K