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Sep. 3rd, 2015 12:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolariSo. The Canada trip.
I've always wanted to belong somewhere. And any place I've tried to belong has told me "No, we're good." After being gently but firmly pushed out of places I've wanted to belong, I decided to go on my own, and just be.
Doesn't mean I don't want to find a place to belong - but I've moved on to doing what I want where I want. It's why I'm back in Washington, in fact. I may not belong here - but it's where things are worked out the best.
There were two places where, during my time there, I did feel I belonged. The first was Second Life. The Second was Canada.
When I originally came up to Seattle, it was with the intention of staying a year, then proposing to Emily and beginning emmigration to Canada. Te plan didn't go perfectly. And at one point, after a seriously bad turn of events, I considered moving back to Texas just months after the move to Washington.
I was convinced to stay, but I pushed up my plans a bit, proposing to Emily only six months in to try and push forward the move to Canada a bit faster - I wasn't sure what would end up happening in the next year or so as the economy collapsed, and things could have gotten rough. And they did.
But once I'd proposed to Emily - I made a commitment. I was going to be a Canadian Citizen. I dove into the world of Western Candaian politics, culture (pop and historic), history and, well, everything else. I learned to enjoy Corner Gas, learned that conservative Stephen Harper is about as right-wing as Bill Clinton, and that parliament seats are two swords lengths apart.
I often felt about being a Texan in Canada the sameway I felt first comign out as trans. That I'd be found out, that I was doing something wrong, made fun of (well, mostly be lightly joked about, they are very polite). And I was always there with Emily to hold my hand through it all. But, while that was comforting, I felt more like "She's my out of I get found out."
It's a stupid feeling, sure, to think you'd be in trouble for not being Canadian in Canada...but I had it.
The very last time I was in Canada (before the recent vacation), was when Emily was in the hospital. I'd made a last ditch straight-to-Canada effor tto see her after work, after a week incommunicato. I stayed with her while I could, and when I couldn't, I went to her house and cleaned, and ran errands she'd been unable to do.
I didn't have the hand to hold this time. I just went, and did what I needed to. I got her some Chinese food and donuts. Grocery shopped. Picked up things here and there. All on my own. Using Canadian money, to buy Canadian things for a Canadian. As, essentially, a Canadian.
It had helped that friends were actively encouraging my emmigration, telling me I'd be a great Canadian once I was there. One was impressed I knew all the territories, provices and their capitals. Another was impressed that I'd planned a drive to Inuvik.
I'd made the commitment, and not only did I feel I belonged, but I felt welcomed. I could, and would, do this.
Then came The Great Unpleasantness as I've come to call it. A series of events over the course of almost a year that didn't just end my overt online trans activism, but caused my relationship with Emily to go into a nuclear meltdown, and caused damage to many of our mutual friends as well.
It also put me on an more "Us VS Them" mindset. Places that were "ours" suddenly became "her" places. And those places that I found her at later were also hers.
I lost Second Life this way. Which was sad - I enjoyed being there, and it gave me everything I'd watned that my transition could not deliver. I've tried to take Second Life back, I know she's not there anymore, but the pain is just too great. We spent every minute in there together, and, despite Second Life's constant change, the pain of seperation was everywhere.
The same with Canada. That was her world, not mine. Mine was Texas, and I was going back to my world in defeat (I'd lost so much in Washington, and I didn't realize how much more I'd lose going home). I'd always meant to go back to Canada, to ahve one last goodbye. I created a router I called "The Last Ride" to hit a lot of places I'd remembered before I left. But in the end, I wasn't able to go, due to Cheyenne giving out, then the White Elephant deciding to die from a lifetime of Dad-fixes.
While I was in Texas, i'd planned a Canadian vacation, to say goodbye to a place that I had a lot of personal and emotional investment, but that wasn't able to happen either due to Austin's skyrocketing housing costs. In the end, I couldn't even really tour my own town, much less Canada.
But on coming back, I decided I would use that Last Ride to try and reconnect with my once-to-be home. It's why I didn't see any of the major sites...it was a reconnection with what I saw there with Emily, and what I saw knowing I would some day move to Vancouver.
It wasn't a holiday or a vacation, it was a closing of accounts. All the places I went to, I made my peace with. And in the end, I finished my "vacation" not as a someone who would soon move to Canada, but as someone who would at least come and visit. I can not be a citizen of Vancouver. But I can be a tourist.
I plan for at least a visit every three or four months. And instead of just seeing "our" sites - I'll see the touristy things, knowing that I know the secret areas only the locals would go.
I got Canada back.
I've always wanted to belong somewhere. And any place I've tried to belong has told me "No, we're good." After being gently but firmly pushed out of places I've wanted to belong, I decided to go on my own, and just be.
Doesn't mean I don't want to find a place to belong - but I've moved on to doing what I want where I want. It's why I'm back in Washington, in fact. I may not belong here - but it's where things are worked out the best.
There were two places where, during my time there, I did feel I belonged. The first was Second Life. The Second was Canada.
When I originally came up to Seattle, it was with the intention of staying a year, then proposing to Emily and beginning emmigration to Canada. Te plan didn't go perfectly. And at one point, after a seriously bad turn of events, I considered moving back to Texas just months after the move to Washington.
I was convinced to stay, but I pushed up my plans a bit, proposing to Emily only six months in to try and push forward the move to Canada a bit faster - I wasn't sure what would end up happening in the next year or so as the economy collapsed, and things could have gotten rough. And they did.
But once I'd proposed to Emily - I made a commitment. I was going to be a Canadian Citizen. I dove into the world of Western Candaian politics, culture (pop and historic), history and, well, everything else. I learned to enjoy Corner Gas, learned that conservative Stephen Harper is about as right-wing as Bill Clinton, and that parliament seats are two swords lengths apart.
I often felt about being a Texan in Canada the sameway I felt first comign out as trans. That I'd be found out, that I was doing something wrong, made fun of (well, mostly be lightly joked about, they are very polite). And I was always there with Emily to hold my hand through it all. But, while that was comforting, I felt more like "She's my out of I get found out."
It's a stupid feeling, sure, to think you'd be in trouble for not being Canadian in Canada...but I had it.
The very last time I was in Canada (before the recent vacation), was when Emily was in the hospital. I'd made a last ditch straight-to-Canada effor tto see her after work, after a week incommunicato. I stayed with her while I could, and when I couldn't, I went to her house and cleaned, and ran errands she'd been unable to do.
I didn't have the hand to hold this time. I just went, and did what I needed to. I got her some Chinese food and donuts. Grocery shopped. Picked up things here and there. All on my own. Using Canadian money, to buy Canadian things for a Canadian. As, essentially, a Canadian.
It had helped that friends were actively encouraging my emmigration, telling me I'd be a great Canadian once I was there. One was impressed I knew all the territories, provices and their capitals. Another was impressed that I'd planned a drive to Inuvik.
I'd made the commitment, and not only did I feel I belonged, but I felt welcomed. I could, and would, do this.
Then came The Great Unpleasantness as I've come to call it. A series of events over the course of almost a year that didn't just end my overt online trans activism, but caused my relationship with Emily to go into a nuclear meltdown, and caused damage to many of our mutual friends as well.
It also put me on an more "Us VS Them" mindset. Places that were "ours" suddenly became "her" places. And those places that I found her at later were also hers.
I lost Second Life this way. Which was sad - I enjoyed being there, and it gave me everything I'd watned that my transition could not deliver. I've tried to take Second Life back, I know she's not there anymore, but the pain is just too great. We spent every minute in there together, and, despite Second Life's constant change, the pain of seperation was everywhere.
The same with Canada. That was her world, not mine. Mine was Texas, and I was going back to my world in defeat (I'd lost so much in Washington, and I didn't realize how much more I'd lose going home). I'd always meant to go back to Canada, to ahve one last goodbye. I created a router I called "The Last Ride" to hit a lot of places I'd remembered before I left. But in the end, I wasn't able to go, due to Cheyenne giving out, then the White Elephant deciding to die from a lifetime of Dad-fixes.
While I was in Texas, i'd planned a Canadian vacation, to say goodbye to a place that I had a lot of personal and emotional investment, but that wasn't able to happen either due to Austin's skyrocketing housing costs. In the end, I couldn't even really tour my own town, much less Canada.
But on coming back, I decided I would use that Last Ride to try and reconnect with my once-to-be home. It's why I didn't see any of the major sites...it was a reconnection with what I saw there with Emily, and what I saw knowing I would some day move to Vancouver.
It wasn't a holiday or a vacation, it was a closing of accounts. All the places I went to, I made my peace with. And in the end, I finished my "vacation" not as a someone who would soon move to Canada, but as someone who would at least come and visit. I can not be a citizen of Vancouver. But I can be a tourist.
I plan for at least a visit every three or four months. And instead of just seeing "our" sites - I'll see the touristy things, knowing that I know the secret areas only the locals would go.
I got Canada back.
