(no subject)

Has anyone ever used the word "tardy" outside of school?

(no subject)

Question for people reading the Growing Up Trans stuff, particularly the last chapter.

This is kind of a rough draft...I'm writing while I have the muse and just getting as much on paper as I can before editing. This leads the a lot of repeated information and dropped threads, and things needing clarification.

The last chapter mentions a "protracted psychogenic fugue" and "becoming the girl in the mirror." It was something that happened after the suicide attempt that radically changed my viewpoint on life, akin to a religious person being born again.

Thing is, I don't like to talk about what that is. I can't not talk about it - the suicide and aftermath was life changing. Leaving it out is like making a great painting with the color blue.

But getting into any farther goes DANGEROUSLY into "woo woo" territory. Not UFO abduction Woo Woo but definately woo woo.

When I've told what I felt happened, its not been received well. And to be fair, even I think its out there. Either way, it strains credibility and could easily aggravate readers.

The closest thing I've found to what happened that seems to be well received was (well is) a psychogenic fugue. Problem is, if I go into any more detail than "I became the girl in the mirror" it veers way off and strains credibility.

What do you think the best choice is?

1) Don't mention the psychogenic fugue thing at all.
2) Leave it as "I became the girl in the mirror."
3) Mention becoming the girl AND the vague psychogenic fugue term.
4) Tell the whole story, reader and writer credibility be damned.

I feel a lot like Ellie Arroway in Contact, trying to explain her 8 hour trip when all the evidence says she never left.

(no subject)

Yeah. The more I write "The Mirror Flips" the more uneasy I get writing it. Its 90% disclaimer 5% apologies and 5% metaphorical retelling of what really happened. That's not autobiography - that's having the reader speculate what really happened.

Then it occured to me: this is stuff I hid from my third psychiatrist in order to make sure I still qualified for my surgery papers, and the people I HAVE told reacted badly to it.

I'll probably just leave it as "I'd become the girl in the mirror" in subsequent drafts and trash "The Mirror Flips."

(no subject)

Actually, I will do "The Mirror Flips" but as a postscript. Thanks, Erin!

Growing up Trans - Life with Geri

Growing up Trans - Life with Geri

Growing Up Trans Chapters:
Preschool - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238402.html
Elementary School - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238626.html
The Nightmare of Fifth Grade (NSFW, and a bit TMI) - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238939.html
Middle School - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2239155.html
High school - Year 1 & 2 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2239578.html
High school - Year 3 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2240215.html
High school - Year 4 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2241302.html
Opening up to a Whole New World - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2242118.html
The Boulton and Park Society - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2243005.html
The Birth of Jenn Dolari - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2243105.html



DISCLAIMER: If there's anything I've learned from this retrospective, it's that people change. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. The actions described here, including my own, are of people who lived in the early 90s. These are not the same people who exist twenty years later.

Most of what happened after the click was a blur. I remember spending a long time in the back of that pickup trying to decide where to go and what to do from here. My brain felt like it had been bleached clean from the shock of nothing happening, and I wasn't thinking clearly. After a while, the only thought in my head was "Home."

So I went home and collapsed into bed. I was woken up a few hours late by a distraught mother who wanted to know why the shotgun was sitting in the behind the seat. In all the confusion and blurry-headedness and shock, I'd just been more interested in getting back home to bed than anything hiding what was going on.

I still wasn't thinking straight So I told her what I'd done. I explained to her everything why I did it, what I was feeling. Her reaction is what you'd expect from a mom who just learned her son has just tried to swallow a gun. But, and this was very telling, her reaction wasn't "why are you doing this," but "do you know how this will make me look?" I wasn't the one who needed help, I was the one who almost made her life a mess. And to be fair, I did - but I was in trouble here, and I wasn't getting any better stuck in the house.

Oddly, she sent me on an errand to drop lunch off with my dad. So I did. As far as I know, mom didn't tell him anything, as he just gave me a hug, grabbed his lunch, and drove off to pick up a load from Houston.

I wasn't getting better stuck in the house. I was out of the house delivering food after a suicide attempt. I'd delivered it. And I didn't go back.

As I'd mentioned before, JD was a survivor. She and her mother Geri had escaped an abusive situation and lived a comfortable if cash-strapped life. They also knew what kind of stress I was under. Geri had taken in folks who were in trouble before and told me that if I ever needed a place to stay, to stop by. Geri and I had clicked as we both enjoyed video games and were artists.

Geri's first introduction to me was a night where JD invited me over to see The Joy Luck Club. By that time, Geri was already aware I was transsexual and before the movie started, she specifically said "This is a girl's movie, and one of us doesn't seem ready. Let's dress her up!" Turns out her clothes fit me just fine, and better yet, so did her shoes, which nothing had ever fit before.

If there's anything, anything, that changes you when you switch genders, it's shoes. And lack of pockets. But shoes are a big thing. Heels, no heels, boots or skimmers, there's something about how they're constructed that forces you to stand and walk and move differently (heels, obviously). You can't clomp in them, they're not as isolating from the ground, and boy postures and body language just feel wierd to do in them. It really does help in passing cause it keeps you in a more feminine posture and body language - and as one of my later roomie's mentioned, much of passing as a woman is posture and body language.

It was nice to have a source of shoes that worked for me after meeting her.

There was also something else about Geri - something that I'll get into later.

Geri and JD lived very very very close to home, however, and if I did, the family would find me really quickly. JD was also a senior in highschool and had classes with my sister. If I stayed with them, JD would need to keep my location from her a secret. I didn't want to take that chance that they'd drag me back as soon as they found out where I was.

But it only took two nights of sleeping in a storm drain to figure out that this was a risk I could probably afford.

They welcomed me in with open arms, and had an extravagant family dinner of $2 Big Macs to celebrate.

My mother found me about two weeks later - as I said, I wasn't very far away. We had a little talk, where we both decided it was best that I stay away for a bit while "I got my head back on straight." I'd be welcomed back if I wanted to come back, but for now, speration was good.

For the next year or so, I flipped between living with Geri and JD in San Antonio, Amy in Austin, and the occasional week or two in a half acre my dad had long since forgotten about in rural Texas. In that half year, Geri told me stories and examples of how to live life as a "non normal" person in a "really normal" world, surviving when the chips were down, and how to make sure you got your due when no one would give it to you. And she'd had 40 some years experince at being non normal and succeeding pretty well in it.

She also told me that the best thing someone could be as a non normal person in a normal world was compassionate. It's rough out there - if you make it across the chasm on a homemade rope bridge, don't pull the bridge back up. While you're at it. Put up signs pointing to the it.

But remember that extra soething else I spoke about earlier? Well. Geri had multiple personalities. Geri was who "fronted" most of the time, and was the protector of the group, and the survivor. She was the one who taught me the most about the real world. Sarah was the fixer. Is anything broke, she worked on it till it ran again. Josie was the creator and "made nice things." She was also the main cook. Maryanne, however was the pastry cook. Between Maryanne and Josie, we ate very well.

And then there was Carole.

Carole met me long before I met her. Before I movedin, and even before I knew Geri had MPD, I'd be hanging out with JD and her boyfriend Dave, and I'd see Geri kind of lingering in hallways and rooms, or sometimes staring at me with these wide eyes. I fI noticed, she'd walk away, then come back and say hi. Once I found out she had MPD, I was introduced to Sarah and Josie pretty quickly. They told me there were more, but that the one other they wanted to meet was having second thoughts.

Again, Geri would hang back, and if I caught her looking, dissapeared.

It wasn't until just after the Joy Luck Club night that I was told about Carole. carole was a playful five year old child, who loved playing with coins and boardgames. And when Dave and JD told Geri about me being trans, that meant everyone in Geri's system knew. And Carole it seems, wanted to meet me - but she didn't want to meet...ME.

Carole didn't quite grasp what being transgendered was all about...So she translated it into terms she could understand. Carole lived inside Geri's head. Obviously, this girl everyone was talking about was in Jenn's head. She wanted to meet HER. It was Carole watching me from the shadows, hoping the girl would "pop out" so she could play with her.

So on a carefully crafted day, Carole met Jenn. And we became very good playmates. Much like the Chinese girl in my pre-school days, Carole wanted to play games and have another girl to talk to that wasn't JD - just someone to be friends with. And through Carole, I got to relive a little bit of the childhood girls have, that I'd had only brief glimpses of. It was only for a year, but it was so much more than I'd ever had before, and it was lovely.

I miss them all.

After a year, and with more and more visits to my parents, showing them I was making it on my own, I got a job throwing newspapers (the first of Geri's rules of survival: find a job, any job). I moved back home, but this time with a fierce determination that I would not stay there, despite whatever happened. I saved up some cash from the job, and got a very cheap apartment (the second of Geri's rules of survival: find a place, any place), and for $300 a month I had a tiny apartment with the Sci Fi Channel, which is all I needed at the time.

My mother wasn't pleased I'd moved out. But I was. I had my own place, where I could explore, be myself, and begin branching out. Jenn on the internet was becoming a mild celebrity (A GIRL WHO GAMES AND IS GOOD AT IT?!?! MARRY ME!), and eventually proclaimed Queen of Usenet by, well, at least one newsgroup.

Things we're looking up, and I was doing Geri proud.

Growing up Trans - False Start

Growing up Trans - False Start

Growing Up Trans Chapters:
Preschool - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238402.html
Elementary School - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238626.html
The Nightmare of Fifth Grade (NSFW, and a bit TMI) - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238939.html
Middle School - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2239155.html
High school - Year 1 & 2 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2239578.html
High school - Year 3 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2240215.html
High school - Year 4 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2241302.html
Opening up to a Whole New World - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2242118.html
The Boulton and Park Society - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2243005.html
The Birth of Jenn Dolari - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2243105.html
Life with Geri - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2244596.html

DISCLAIMER: If there's anything I've learned from this retrospective, it's that people change. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. The actions described here, including my own, are of people who lived in the late 90s. These are not the same people who exist fifteen years later.

Information Super Highway OffRamp

So, The Plan. You remember the plan, right? Let's see how we're doing:

1) Move the heck out by 1992. COMPLETE 1996
2) Six months of psychotherapy for hormoneby 1992 ABORTED 1993
3) Two years of Real Life Test as a woman started by 1994 Soon!
4) Surgery by 1999.

Not exactly the timeframe I had. But at least I'd finally completed step 1.

Being on my own left me completely free to do what I wanted...mostly. I only worked four hours a night, but I worked every night. I went to bed at 8AM, woke up at 4PM, leaving the whole afternoon and evening to myself.
My place wasn't a palace, a small 350 square foot studio with a very large asbestos warning in the lease, but it was cheap, and it was mine. And far enough away from home that I could be myself in peace. After so many years of sneaking and snooping and going behind backs and depending on friends - I could finally be myself in peace.

I'd started letting my hair grow long. I let my nails grow. I shaved my fur pelt off. I was a woman for weeks at a time (minus the few hours of work). I felt great.

But, you see, I'd always had friends help me with the care and maintenance of my femininity. My hair grew...but it matted and split badly. My nails grew, but they chipped and tore. And no one ever told me that shaved skin itches like nobody's business.

And that peace didn't really last very long. I live about six miles from my parents, a good bit away, but not unreachable. And, honestly, I'd based my apartment location on wether or not I got the Sci fi Channel in that area. I couldn't live in COMPLETE brutality. But I was still within a few miles drive of my parents. And mom came over. Every. Single. Day.

I had a giant walk in closet, but no bedroom, so I converted the closet into the bedroom (it had an AC vent for some reason). I'd walk in at 8AM, sleep, and wake up at 4 to find all my dishes done, a pile of clean laundry on the bed, and many times, a dinner waiting for me. Mom doesn't like letting the apron strings go. But I also felt, there was a something more to it. I was being told "I am still watching you."

But this was my place, my rules, and finally, my gender. I could be what I needed to be, I had work, which didn't pay much, but at least got me started, and plenty of spare time to refine my craft.

By this time the online Jenn Dolari was experiencing her first wave of populaity as That Mortal Kombat girl. There had been a few inquiries as to wether I was who I said I was, but in general no one was the wiser. There were a few moments when a troll on the Mortal Kombat newsgroup was outted as a guy, and I hung back and stayed low, but I was enjoying the popularity, and, honestly, the attention this virtual female extension was getting.

In fact, it attracted the attention of a beau. Well, specifically many many potential suitors (there's an extinct newsgroup out there called alt.fan.jenn-dolari.wedding-proposals, for just such an occasion). But one in particular was fun to talk to, and we talked most every night via YTALK (this were the pre IM days of the internet).

Then one day, he had a confession to make. He was trans. Specifically Female to Male.

::blink::

Uh.

::blink blink::

I was much too protective of the online persona to ruin it by outing myself to someone who might just be getting in good to post "JENN DOLARI'S A DUDE!" on the newsgroup. Michael, as he called himself, was very careful but earnest about how he approached his situation, and I, in a fit of protection, lied like a kid with a mouthful of candy.

"That's really neat. You see I have this...friend over here...named MARLENE. She's M2F, you know. Why don't you talk to HER. I think she'd appreciate it." I don't think I fooled him one whit, but I was a writer, and I knew how to write in different "voices." So I dutifully used an old EMail address and "Marlene" and Michael got to know each other, keeping Jenn Dolari safe for more Mortal Kombat chatting.

Shortly before I moved in, I'd also learned abotu the AOL Gazebo, an area for transgender support, which is where I met Gwen Smith. Again, protecting Jenn Dolari, I created another account, "Yellow Dancer" (2000 quatloos if you get that reference). This became my virtual replacement for the now defunct Boulton and Park, and I met many many many more transmen and women. Some even in my are.

One was someone I'd known in summer school. ;)

And after a while "Marlene" and Michael became friends, Gwen and Yellow became friends. And then I spilled the beans that Jenn and Marlene/Yellow were the same person. and they already knew (cause I'm not nearly as sneaky as I think I am).

Eventually, Michael and Jenn became very close, and fell in love. I wasn't sure how to feel about that. During my early adolescence, any attraction I had to women had a very strong "THIS IS WRONG" feel to it. As I came to accept my own femininity, that feeling slowly went away, and attraction to women felt much more normal. Probably because I was thinking less as a heterosexual guy and more of a bisexual woman.

When it came to boys however, there was no "THIS IS WRONG." I just didn't want much to do with them, period. But as I became more and more accepting of my femininity again, that eased as well. A nice looking guy was just as good as a nice looking gal by 1996.

But I'd never really DATED a guy. I'd spent so much time diving into the world of women, that I didn't know what to really expect out of a relationship with a guy. This was a lot of untapped territory. And on top of that, my beau was F2M. Would my body envy issues get in the way? Would they make HIS situation worse being stuck in there? We talked long long hours getting to know each other. He was very much a sweet gentleman, and if they were all like this, I could kinda see why girls like 'em.

We took the plunge and declared our love on August 25th. "Dammit Day" as we called it. If there were issues, we'd tackle them as they came.

The first was, he was in Pennsylvania. I was in Texas.

First, a visit was in order, to meet my new beau face to face. I couldn't really do that, though, as I worked every day (literally, every single day for a year and a half without a day off). My workplace obliged me by having to work really hard to screw me out of a job (no, I'm not bitter). So that pesky job was out of the way.

Dave had since broken up with JD, and just happened to be going to Pennsylvania to visit his new girlfriend, and was looking for someone to share a trip with. And so I dipped into my surgery savings, and went to visit my new boyfriend.

We drove two days, to stay two days, and drive back two days. The trip was a LOT of fun, and I got to meet my new beau, and his family, who lived in a slice of 1950s Americana that never died. It was a sweet weekend filled with love, roses and Arch Deluxes. Just as we were leaving, he gave me a rose. I still have that rose.

I needed to get back there.

With the loss of my job, I tried hard to find another, but couldn't find anything I was suited for. My surgery savings wasn't substantial, and was draining fast as I paid my rent and utilities while searching. By the end of my lease, I was out of cash, and had to move back home.

And then Geri died.

Geri was an older woman, and had health issues, the last one being cancer. She went from being well, to in surgery, to dead in only a week, and it was frightening to see her pass so quickly.

Staying with my family didn't last long. Things still weren't going well between my mother and I. I rankled at her attempts to keep an eye on me, as I felt she was policing my life and making sure I wasn't dressing up at the one place I could do it. Now I was back home, and that felt even more in force. I'd just gone from a place of complete freedom to sneaking around again. I didn't want that.

I was forced to run an all night errand for my mom on the night of Geri's funeral. After mentioning it several times, and trying to get out, a situation was set up to keep me from going by being forced to run an errand in a 120 mile round trip. That was the last straw.

I moved to Pennsylvania that next weekend.

(no subject)

"You know, American Indians used every part of the river. NOW DRINK IT DOWN."

Growing Up Trans - Intermission #1

The last episode or two haven't exactly been the most uplifting things to read. So I'm gonna take a little break from the rolling narrative to tell you a fun little story. Set your Wayback Machine to the Winter of 1992. My first real outing as a woman. Ho boy.

Steph had planned this for a couple of days. She wanted me to have a night out with Jenn, and we were gonna have some fun. But other than a night out, we hadn't really PLANNED anything. I showed up that night, pretty much at her mercy and nervous as hell. Up to this point, most of my crossdressing was done in privacy behind closed doors or on long dark drives, where no one could look in. I wasn't sure how this would go, only that I was scared three ways to Sunday.

Steph opened up her closet and started throwing out clothes left and right. Grabbing outfits, mixing, matching, throwing things at me to try, snatching them away. I was watching the master at work.

I tried most everything she threw at me. Some fit, most didn't. Eventually, we came up with an outfit that fit and looked good: a crushed velvet green top, with a very light loosely knit sweater and green denim patterned jeans. We couldn't find any shoes that came even close to fitting, so we went ahead with my sneakers. They weren't too obvious, and we hoped it wouldn't ping anyone. I took a look at what was exposed, and jumped in the shower for my usual battle against body hair, while Steph herself got ready for our night out.

Freshley deforested and dressed, as Steph finished her makeup, she proceeded to help me with mine. Well, she really just kinda did mine, as I was really really bad at doing makeup. I glued on some fake nails, and I fixed up my hair as best I could, and we had two girls ready to go out on the town...

...and still had no idea what we were going to actually do. Quite literally all dressed up with no where to go. And frankly if we never left the house, I'd have been just as happy. Cause this was really freakin' scary.

We couldn't go anywhere on an empty stomach, though - so dinner was in our immediate future. We didn't have much money, so our choices were very limited. Steph got a discount at the Quick Wok so we headed out that way and made it right to the door before we realized: BAD IDEA. I hung out there a lot as a male, so showing up as Jenn would be a really bad idea. But, we weren't going to leave the parking lot just yet.

"Wait. I gotta show you to Diane. I'll be right back!"

First off, her name wasn't Diane - I'm sure of it. I just can't remember what it is now, and Diane sounds good, so we'll use that. Secondly: turns out, several of the girls at Quick Wok knew I was trans, and one really wanted to get a look at me. Soon enough, Steph comes out with Diane in hand and pulls her over to the side of the car. Oh, crap. I rolled down the window.

Steph introduced me: "Diane, this is Jenn,"
"Oh....I was expecting more. Like feathers and makeup."

So, we moved on to another cheapie place, we could afford tht was just enough out of the way that if anything happened, we wouldn't hear about it from out friends. Subway. I walked in feeling like a million bucks, and steph ordered herself a small sandwich. The teller turned to me asked what I'd like.

I opened my mouth and froze. I'd never tried to speak like a woman. It all hit me at once - your voice is deep, you talk like normal, you're in trouble.

"What would you like, ma'am?"
"::SQUEAK::"
"Ma'am?"
"::pop::...inch...::click::.B...T..::squeak::"
Steph jumped in, "She'd like a 4 inch round BMT, thanks."
I squeaked very weakly to the cashier, "Thanks."
We quickly left and ate in the pickup as Steph stated what had just become obvious: "We REALLY need to work on your voice."

One dinner, and a very perplexed cashier later, we were off to see a movie at the dollar cinema. The movie? "The Crying Game." I shit you not. I didn't know the secret ending to that movie. Steph said I did. I didn't. Honestly.

One movie later, we exited the movie theater, and started heading out. Steph stopped me as I rushed towards the exit. "Wait a second, I need to use the bathroom. Come with me."

Oh. My. God.

The holiest of holies.

The one place you NEVER EVER go as a male.

The ladies room.

"You'll be fine, come on." I was absolutely certain I was going to be found out. A gender infiltrator, secretly gathering intelligence on the other side to report back to my male superiors. I. Was. Scared.

We went in and both did our business...surrounded on all sides by a solid mass of women of all ages. ::gulp::

We washed out hands and I fled. That was too close. When we got back in the pickup, Steph again turned to me: "You know, i got worried. I just had these visions of all these stalls with feet pointing one way, and one stall with the feet pointing the other...."