One year ago this week I officially began living full time. It has been an amazingly interesting year. It all began with my biggest purge ever in my history. Only this purge was unlike any that preceded it. All of my past purges involved throwing away all of my secret stash of women’s clothes, severe berating myself for being the way I was, followed by weeks of intense self-loathing and deeper than normal depression. But, the difference this last time was that I loaded all of my now no longer needed male clothes, shoes, etc into my car – two car loads in fact – and taking them all to my support group to pass them all along to my trans-men friends. You would have thought that Christmas came a month early. In a way it did. The guys were digging through t-shirts, sweaters, dress shirts, ties, shoes, suits, socks, polo shirts, belts and coats. Many of the trans-girls were gathered watching the joyfilled exchange with an enthusiasm that was palpable in the cold weather. It filled my heart with joy to see these guys and their partners walking around effectively buried under the piles of fashions that most would not have been able to afford otherwise. Hugs were profusely exchanged – once anyone had relieved themselves of their loads. The purge took two meetings and two car loads to complete. That was one of the most rewarding things that I had ever done to that point in my life. It made for a very symbolic beginning to my new life, where I would be forever after seen as a woman.
At the same time as this purge, I had made one of the most difficult and emotional moves of my life. After living 50 years with my mom in two states and four apartments, it was time to break the bonds and begin MY life. The two years prior to this move had been very difficult for both of us. I had come out to her in possibly the worst way. Because of my ineptness in handling the most important news of my life with the most important person of my life I created a rift in my relationship with my mom. The fear and apprehension that I felt in regards to talking to her about what I was feeling and had felt my whole life kept me from being able to talk to her. We very often were left with silence between us, tension, and even anger. If only I could turn the clock back and revisit that experience with the knowledge and understanding I have today. I am happy to say that things between mom and I are much improved, though the subject is still a hard one to express.
Within the past year I have lived in almost as many places as I had in those first 50 years of life and there are already plans forming for a next move. I have not only lived in three places, I have lived with three quite different women, two cats, and a dog, I have also had very different living environments. Do I have a favorite? Nope. While each was very different, each has been precious to me. My first housemate is a rather famous woman in the game design industry, a legend, as well as being a trans-woman. Her home was by far the most grand and luxurious abode I had ever lived in. I loved the feeling of living in an art museum/gallery with some of the most amazing fantasy paintings I have ever seen – and it was all original paintings. Perhaps most dear to me was the kitchen. As a culinarian I had free reign of this one room above all others. That kitchen afforded me the freedom to create, develop and evolve my culinary prowess. With a great deal of room for entertaining, the tools and equipment, and the encouragement to create my ‘fame’ in the kitchen had been borne. My reputation had been sealed when I was tasked with the creation of a special Valentine’s Day dinner for my housemate and her girlfriend (who is every bit a legend in the gaming industry). All of the stops were opened, the menu planned, vast provisions ($350) were procured and the three days of preparation ensued. Twenty one recipes and six courses later, my charges were fully satisfied and satiated. My pride and confidence soared after hearing the very, very lofty praise from someone who prides herself on dining in five-star and Michelin Star caliber restaurants. The offerings were rated near on par with the best she had ever had. Of course I deny being remotely close to that loftiness, but flattered beyond measure nonetheless. There have been a good many other chances to show off what I can do.
Housemate number two is an amazingly wonderful woman with a small two bedroom condo inside the perimeter. So, yeah, I got to be an ITP for a short few months. With my reputation well established, I got to do more cooking as well as house and puppy dog sitting during the times that she worked out of town. I was given my first experience with going to the pool in a women’s swimsuit. I had expected it to be more of an issue and make me more self-conscious than it did. It actually felt very natural and no one apparently batted an eyelash. Apparently, by this point in time I had become quite passable and able to generally slip through society as just one of the women. Not a particularly attractive woman, but just a woman. By that point in time I had dropped nearly 95 pounds from before transition and was down to near my ideal target weight. I’m still at the point of slowly creeping down the final few pounds to get where I want to be. My biggest goal before making the move to this second home was to downsize my possessions significantly. My goal was to leave with upwards of 75% less than I arrived at the first home with. While I did very good, I found that so much of what I own belongs to the kitchen and as such I was unable to justify parting with them. In the end I arrived in the much smaller living space with less than half what I left my old life with. Another 20+ percent had been relieved before heading off to abode number three. Sadly, my roommate was planning to move out of state for work and was given a move out date. I’m sad to no longer be sharing living space with her and spending time with her friends. But, I went into the arrangement knowing it was only temporary. I know that she and I will remain good friends from a distance.
My third move and what likely is going to establish me as a gypsy came just a few weeks ago. I am back in distant outerlands of the Atlanta area. As one of my dearest friends calls anything that is OTP (outside the perimeter), I am living in Egypt. Other people call it Duluth, GA. My latest roommate is an old friend of mine. She has known me since well before I knew I was a transwoman. She also has the lofty distinction of being the first person – after my therapist – that I had come out to. She has been my mentor for the half dozen years I have known her and an inspiration to be sure.
What future holds for this gypsy?
My immediate plans involve acquiring work to gain income to actually do things. I am hoping that fates allow that I will be able to move to Tennessee in early 2013 to be closer to my special friends and to secure a job that provides transgender inclusive insurance benefits. It seems that will be the only practical way that I will be able to undergo my much needed surgery. For my friends that would left behind in Atlanta, fear not, there is a bus that I will be able to take from there to here on a regular basis so that I can maintain connections to this place. Assuming that my plans to gain said employment in TN works out, then I would expect that 2013 will see my being able to secure that critical step in my transition. I am finally motivated in a way I have not been in far too long. Happiness would prevail in my life once that goal is met. Beyond that I will be left with just simply living my life in a way that would be not entirely different than presently. The other BIG goal for my life is to finally find someone that I call my girlfriend. While relationships are something that, right now, seem to be overly complicated things, I am sorely craving a close, intimate relationship with someone who can accept me in my current form and would desperately crave the future I envision for myself. Will such a thing happen? Can it happen? Since I have never been in a relationship in my life, I can not imagine how it could come to pass. But, I still want it more than anything, save that one thing.
This brings about a question that I have been wrestling with for some time.
Should I add a donate to my transition fund function to this blog? Would people actually donate? Please post your thoughts in the comments section. I am sincere in asking this question.
Thank you all who support me and read my blog. I love you all.