So just over a week ago, I regained consciousness and vomited weakly into a bag. That was my first conscious memory with no penis.
Forth made it through her operation and here is her amazing post-op post in what could be for some folks, uncomfortable detail. Her ability to capture and share her feelings is inspiring.
What an amazing journey she has shared with courageous vulnerability and astute objectivity.
Two years, four months and two days ago I started taking estrogen. I’ve taken it every day ever since. Tomorrow will be the last dose I take for a while. This is because Tuesday marks the point where there are only four weeks until I go in for surgery. Apparently an elevated amount of estrogen is a risk during surgery (it is for cisgendered women as well but there’s no way to regulate it in that case) …
What next? I broke my life apart, threw away several large chunks of it and then set myself to focus almost entirely on the process of transition. I need to be aware that I’m not going to have much in the way of goals after this and be ready for the “now what?” questions. If I’m honest, I think that’s what I’m nervous about now. Once I’ve negotiated the big stuff, I’ll be left with just a life like everyone else. It’ll come with a couple of extra challenges but so do many other people’s.
Please note that the quotes above were made four weeks ago.
I’ve been following Forth’s incredible livejournal posts for three years, and have known her via SL for four years though she hasn’t spent much time in SL these past two years. Her journal has been filled with her anger and frustrations, her cowardice and courage … most of all her vulnerability. Just like what you’ve read above, it has been honest and articulate.
Yesterday, she went in for her transition surgery. The male body she was born in will be transformed.
If it’s what you are comfortable doing, pray with me that all has gone well for this courageous soul.
Transgender Day of Remembrance | A Candlelit Vigil with Queer* at Bennington College
First, as always, there’s the wonderful Mystery Remembrance Shrine for all of those we’ve lost. Markers are placed with inscriptions about those who are gone
The shrine for remembering the transgendered is no more, however. I wrote about my visit in 2009.
(via lgbtgivesmehope)
Source: accumulatio-artemis
I have a wonderful friend from SL, who lives in Australia. I’m not going to use labels here. I’m also not going to give out her blog address because I don’t want the wrong people to go there and have some fun at her expense. Sadly, there are people out there who would do that. I have no idea how large my readership is or how diverse, so I will not take the chance. But I want to share her words and feelings because it’s so important to understand that the gay issue, the gender issue, is about racism, pure and simple. It’s not about sin or what the Bible purportedly says. Remember, Bible verses were used to justify slavery in the last century. People who hate based on sexual orientation or gender, are haters (losers, layhoo zayher, losers) and are tolerated by those of us who know that grace is a gift easily shattered by hating back.
Alright, enough about me. Read these words, this amazing struggle that is going on in someone who is smart and witty and just trying to deal with the hand life dealt her:
We use the word “naked” to suggest that something is presented in its real, unadorned, unaltered form. We use phrases like “naked truth” to indicate that something is as honest and true to reality as possible. This is predicated on the idea that our bodies are entirely representative of us. This isn’t always the case.
I have a thin and fragile veneer that I wear as a mask. It’s constructed of clothing and shaving and a wig and shoving parts of my body about to present myself as I wish to be seen. A mask is usually something used to hide one’s true self but in this case it’s fairly representative of who I really am. Call it trivially truthful. It accords with my inner self, the identity that I’ve worked and sacrificed to tease out and understand and which is really who I am. Call that the non-trivial truth.
Between those two layers though is a persistent and nastily compelling lie. That would be my body. It’s all the more insidious because the idea that our bodies accord with our gender is ingrained so completely in our culture. I hate seeing myself naked in the mirror. The lie is so compelling that it still catches me out and makes me recoil. I realised recently that I’m truly scared of being intimate with someone because of this. This idea of presenting someone with that lie and asking them not to believe it is incredibly confronting. I know that on some level they will internalize it as truth and the mask will forever after seem just that.
So I have a profound internal conflict. I want someone to be attracted to me as I am; to be able to resolve those deep dissonances in my physicality and still find me desirable but at the same time I want those dissonances gone (which they will never entirely be) and I want not to have to present the lie to someone I want to be close to. Whenever I find myself attracted to someone the thought “Oh god, what if it doesn’t work out?” is immediately followed by “Oh god what happens if it *does* work out?” I try to convince myself that it will all be fine but I’ve discovered that it’s all too easy to follow that into projecting desires and thoughts onto someone else which is fair on nobody and leads to me having stupid internal hissy fits which are entirely my own fault.
Should I simply decide that anyone I want to be that close to, I should be able to trust to deal with this or am I asking too much? I resent this. Other people have body image issues to deal with but their bodies don’t actually make them appear deceitful. How much disclosure do I have to run through to avoid someone looking startled and slightly put off in the middle of what should be a moment of abandon?
I suppose this is one of those things that will have to be worked out on a case by case basis. I still have no idea how presentable I truly am though. I have friends all around me who tell me how great I look but I’ve heard those sorts of comments thrown around a lot and they’re effectively code for “I like you and care about you and want to be supportive of you.” Which is nice but not informative.
My God, that just takes my breath away and I know Forth (her Avi name in SL). I think we all have trust issues in seeking intimacy, but her dilemma is compounded by that fundamental of being a woman in a man’s body. I just love how she is sharing this as she is processing it out.
SL is an amazing place for experimenting with gender role play. I first encountered this in a visit to the Transgender Suicide Memorial site. And I’ve been attentive to acquaintances who have trusted me with their transgender stories. Note that the end of the article lists resources that may no longer be supported but isn’t it amazing that they once were?
If you are going through similar difficulties and need someone to just listen, I can try to be available for you in SL.
