Transsexual Ferox

2011-09-16T22:04:00.000-04:00

2011-09-10T14:49:00.001-04:00

A Game

2010-10-04T22:33:00.008-04:00

Take a look at the list below and pick the line you think represents "womanhood", i.e., the point at which you think it's okay for another person to identify themselves as a woman.

Has feelings of gender dysphoria but doesn't "dress" or otherwise express them
"Dresses" in secret
Out to family and friends
Part-time
HRT
Fulltime everywhere except for work
Fulltime (including work)
Name changed
Gender changed on driver's license (sometimes not possible!)
Orchiectomy
Tracheal shave
FFS
GRS
Gender changed on birth certificate.
"Passes" completely
Living Stealth
30+ years post SRS
Transitioned as a teen/young adult
Transitioned pre-adolescence
Prostrate removed
Pelvis tilted; ovaries and uterus transplanted
All memories of "boy" life erased and replaced with "girl" memories
New body cloned for you, this time with Y gene converted to X, and brain transplanted
Born XX and raised a girl

Congratulations, by exercising determination over other peoples' identities you've just made it okay for everyone to do so. And there will always be someone who will pick something further down on the list...something you can't possibly achieve. Many, many of them already choose the very last line.

My frustration with those people - they're lack of understanding, their unwillingness to listen, their close-minded perspective on the world and its beautiful diversity - means that I will never play this game myself.

You've Been Served

2010-09-27T14:25:00.005-04:00

So I was served divorce papers today. Kind of anti-climatic, given that I had to go pick them up at the post office myself. Why couldn't it have been something cool like in the movies...maybe a cute guy asking me out and then slapping me with them just before dessert arrives? C'mon, where's the drama?

Or the lawyer could have just given them to Beth to bring home with her. It's not like we don't see each other all the time.

Internalized Transphobia

2010-09-25T19:06:00.013-04:00

I'm usually loathe to offer commentary on other peoples' blogs, but sometimes things come along that I just have to talk about. And, of course, comment moderation is enabled there so it's impossible to have a frank conversation (edited: actually my comment made it through, so that was a totally bad presumption on my art). So as not to embarrass the individual unduly, I won't be linking to her blog.

The post in question describes an encounter between a trans friend and the blog's author, a closeted trans woman. This "friend" is not much of a friend at all it seems, and in fact, only contacted our author to ask about a favor, which would involve coming by her place of work. That the author told this person "no" doesn't seem like a big deal to me...if the only time you call is to ask someone to "give you a deal" on some work you need done, you don't deserve to have someone do something nice for you.

In fact, the reason the author said "no" had nothing to do with that, but rather, as noted before, she's closeted and having this trans woman show up at work where they may be somehow connected (even though the "friend" promised not to mention her name) was a bit too much for her to risk. I think that's unnecessarily paranoid, but I do sort of get it...coming out (or not coming out) is a personal event and sometimes you are paranoid in the way you manage it.

But wait, reading the rest of the blog, it seems as though the author has another trans friend who comes by and uses her employer's services at least somewhat frequently. So what's the difference between that trans friend and this fair-weathered one? Well, here it is:

"So, let's just say that she puts no effort into her presentation. I think she is going for the lesbian butch look which for a male, would not be hard to do. Suffice it to say, a man in a dress. Sorry. No make up, no hair, no body language, nothing."

The rest of the blog is about how bad she feels, and how her actions make her no better than a "radical extremist". Her commenters try to assuage her guilt, telling her that's not so. But the truth is, it is kinda so. And it's not just this one blogger...huge chunks of the trans community are just as guilty of this all the time.

The blogger tries to accept blame, but the damage has already been done. A trans person has been victimized, and on top of that, she's been blamed for her own victimization. Because as the quote illustrates, clearly this woman is doing something wrong. She doesn't look good enough, she doesn't try hard enough, and her choice of presentation is insensitive to other peoples' needs and feelings. And finally the ultimate insult, resulting in the complete and total erasure of her identity: Man In Dress.

We learned a lot of things as children that we struggle to implement as adults. We learned that you're not supposed to judge others based on how they look, but clearly that lesson didn't take with the trans community. We also learned that you can't own up to something and also pass the buck at the same time...there is no "I'm really sorry for what I did to you but if you just hadn't done what you did I wouldn't have had to do what I did"...that just doesn't work.

To be clear, what was described in this blog is internalized transphobia. It presumes that the best way to be trans is to be not trans. And that people who fail to meet that expectation are undeserving of normal, decent treatment.

One of the blog's commenters even goes on to describe the "friend" as...

"...someone well outside the unwritten rules who is a danger to others and thoughtless."

Well those rules may indeed exist, but make no mistake, they are there to cater to fearful, narrow-minded folk who get what they want by scaring other people and making them feel like crap. And when you propagate their rules you become one of them.

Market Day

2010-09-12T19:45:00.002-04:00

Got the call around 8:30 am, and by a quarter after nine yesterday I was at the local farmers market schlepping produce for a group of people I'd never met before.

It was busy. I couldn't venture a guess as to how many customers we saw, but it was non-stop for more than five hours. And I couldn't have been happier...you couldn't wipe the stupid smile off my face the whole day.

I love people. It's the thing I miss most about work. Being part of a team, helping others find the things they need, being constantly surrounded by faces and voices and conversation...I love being part of the big social engine. It energizes and excites me. It makes me happy.

I need to get back to work, and soon.

Lonely

2010-08-21T15:53:00.002-04:00

On my bed, Beth's cat, Loki, has a little purple pillow right next to the one I use. It's his favorite place to sleep, and he does so right next to me pretty much every night.

I was on the verge of drifting off to sleep last night when I felt a little touch on my wrist. Loki was there on his pillow, with his eyes shut, one paw extended gently to rest on my arm. This is typical. Like me, he feels the need to touch and be in contact with the people he loves. Like me, he feels the need to be connected to others.

As I write this blog, he has just crawled into my lap. I think he's lonely. Except for me, the people most important to him all have people more important to them. The days are all the same now in the lonely little apartment.

This blog isn't really about Loki.

The Mosque Debate

2010-08-16T20:55:00.004-04:00

This keeps popping up on FaceBook today, reminding me that I have something to say about it.

Everyone has an opinion about whether it's okay to build a mosque on Ground Zero in Manhattan. Never mind that it's not actually a mosque, or that it's not actually on Ground Zero. Those things are irrelevant. All that's relevant is that this is America and the space the group wants to build on is legally zoned for what they want to build.

Sometimes being American - I mean really American, as in standing by our guiding principles and all that - is hard. Idealism is like that. It means sometimes you may have to support things you don't personally care for, or not support things that you really do. When you believe in something, you walk the walk, even if it requires sacrifice.

In the case of the community center in Manhattan, I don't even know what people think they're sacrificing. And it doesn't matter. We have a lot of problems in this country - we're not nearly as free and liberated as we like to think we are - but one thing we do have is the freedom to practice religion, and when we start limiting that, we cease to be even that good. We take a step away from being the America we dream of.

(Personally, I can't think of a more American thing to do than to build a mosque right next to ground zero and give our enemies the big "F U" by showing them that this particular ideal of ours remains untarnished. But my personal feelings are irrelevant as well, because this isn't about sending a message to anyone...it's about being America and carrying on undeterred.)

An Open Letter To Seth MacFarlane

2010-08-05T11:47:00.006-04:00

"[The unhappy reaction to our transgender character] surprised me. I don't meet a lot of stupid homosexuals. They seem to be a pretty smart bunch. But it seemed that they were not picking up on the fact that it was a very sympathetic portrayal of a transsexual character.... Look, Brian happens to be a heterosexual character, as I am. If I found out that I had slept with a transsexual, I might throw up in the same way that a gay guy looks at a vagina and goes, 'Oh, my God, that's disgusting."

--Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane on how he doesn't understand why people are upset with his transphobia

Dear Mr. MacFarlane,

Oh where to begin?

Not being trans yourself, I don't necessarily expect you to be able to recognize a sympathetic portrayal of a trans character when you see one, and given that, I don't expect you to be able to write one either. Telling us we're stupid because we don't recognize how truly "sympathetic" your characterization of transsexuals is makes about as much sense as me trying to lecture you about the technical aspects of animation. You're an animator, you know about animation. I'm a transsexual, I know what hurts and what doesn't when pop culture decides to talk about me.

And trust me, being characterized as a monster so completely disgusting that I could provoke a heterosexual male to vomit hurts. It very likely hurts cisgender women as well because what you're really saying is that regardless of any other virtue a woman may possess, the only thing that makes her not a disgusting vomit-inducing monster is the genitalia she was born with. Ultimately, what you've done is deny me my identity; by saying that you could not or should not be attracted to a transsexual, you say that I must somehow not be a woman. What your portrayal is sympathetic of isn't transsexuals, it's sexist transphobic homophobic men.

Your mistake is that you can't imagine any heterosexual man wouldn't react in exactly the same way as the character in your show. But there are men and women out there for whom their partner's past is less an issue than their present, and for whom biology is less important than their heart. But their willingness to love is trumped by the intense social stigma that comes with dating a man or woman of transsexual history...a stigma your show shamefully endorses and perpetuates.

All people are worthy of love, including transsexuals. And until we live in a world where transsexualism is seen as a natural part of female diversity many of us will live lonely, unloved lives. You had an opportunity to help us all take a step forward, but instead you chose to revel in prurient hate. And all for a cheap laugh. Congratulations.

- Renee

P.S. I don't know why you're addressing your statement to the gay community, but thankfully they forwarded word to us. Perhaps you should, you know, do a little research about the minority group you intend to trample upon.

P.S.S. I don't know any gay men who have expressed disgust at or about vaginas. Plus, once again, you liken people to their genitals, as if that's all that's important to anyone. Seriously, grow up.

[the death of the cat]

2010-07-23T01:30:00.008-04:00

Everyone likes to use Schrödinger’s Cat as a metaphor. I'm no different. I find it a perfectly apt representation of the entanglement surrounding unknowns (or more precisely, known unknowns). For instance, I think it nicely illustrates the effects of prejudice, bigotry, and discrimination...which we know exist, but may not know moment-to-moment if they're being plied against us.

But first, the theory of Schrödinger’s Cat:

In Schrödinger’s original thought experiment, he describes how one could, in principle, transpose the superposition of an atom to large-scale systems of a live and dead cat by coupling cat and atom with the help of a "diabolical mechanism". He proposed a scenario with a cat in a sealed box, wherein the cat's life or death was dependent on the state of a subatomic particle. According to Schrödinger, the Copenhagen interpretation implies that the cat remains both alive and dead (to the universe outside the box) until the box is opened.

This is a little hard to wrap your brain around. How can the cat be both alive and dead, even if just to the universe outside the box? Can we not just relegate the cat to some middle ground - park it in neutral, so to speak - until we know for sure?

Well, no, not really. And Schrödinger would explain it with quantum mechanics, but not being a quantum physicist, I make sense of it a bit more simply. Knowing the details of the experiment and the possible outcomes, we are immediately forced to contemplate the cat's potential fates. When we think about the cat being dead, we feel the negative feelings associated with death...we feel sad, maybe angry, perhaps outraged even. But when we envision the cat as alive, those feelings are replaced with feelings of comfort...we're glad the cat is alive, probably even relieved. Those feelings are real; you have experienced the cat as both alive and dead.

Suffering prejudice is very much like this.

Suppose you are transsexual and someone punches you. No reason given, they just punch you. We know transphobia exists and that sometimes people get punched because of it. Was that the reason, or did you scratch their car in the parking lot a little earlier? You don't know, but while you're forced to mull it over, you feel like the victim of a hate-crime: You feel the anger and confusion, which you very well might have felt anyway, but you also feel the sadness and the outrage and the hopelessness that comes with being discriminated against. That is real; you would not have felt that way if transphobia did not exist.

Something less extreme: You apply for a job, but are told you're not qualified. We know transphobia exists and that sometimes people are turned down for jobs because of it. Was that why you didn't get the job, or was it really because you weren't qualified? You might think one is more likely than the other, but in contemplating both, you will feel the sadness and outrage and hopelessness of being discriminated against. You will sit on your couch and cry for a while, and want to reach out to your friends, but also not want to, because you feel shamed. That is real, trust me.

And that's the insidiousness of prejudice [the sub-atomic particle]. Because as long as it exists you will be forced to acknowledge it, and every time you do, you have to relive the pain [the death of the cat].

Of course, Schrödinger had an out. He could just look in the box, at which point, one reality would trump the other. But we can never know someone else's mind, not really. We can never open the box.

And even if we could, would we? Because as long as the box is closed, the cat is also still alive, and while we may not be able to curl up for a nap with it that way, it might be better than having to bury it in the backyard.

What Workplace Discrimination Looks Like (an example)

2010-07-20T12:52:00.008-04:00

This is the most pointed example I have of the discrimination I suffered at my former job.

To help with understanding, know that each numbered location is a different store. The abbreviation "TL" stands for "Team Leader", which is what Meijer calls managers.

From: XXXXXX, XXXX
Sent: Saturday, May 29, 2010 3:48 PM
To: MEIJERLIST
Cc: XXXXXX, XXXXXX; XXXXXX, XXXXX
Subject: Open Positions in Eastern Region

Good Afternoon,

As we are close to the 60 day mark for you to procure new positions, I wanted to send the following to let you know what is currently available. As always these positions may have candidates bidding or interviewing on them at this time, so please contact myself, XXXXX or XXXXxx to help schedule interviews.

Attached is a list of the open hourly roles in the region. Below is a list of open leadership jobs as of COB Friday 5/28.

53 – GM Area TL

63 – Service/Financial TL

64 – Co-Prepared Foods TL

105 – Grocery TL

122 – Layout/Common Area TL, GM 40 TL

163 – Layout/Common Area TL

172 – Deli TL, 3^rd Shift GM Stocking TL

173 – Deli TL

197 – Promo/Inventory Area TL

208 – E4 TL

222 – Co-prepared Foods TL

233 – Grocery TL

237 – Grocery TL, GM 48 TL, GM 40 TL

242 – E4 TL

Warmest Regards

XXXX X. XXXXXX

Regional Recruiting Coordinator

Eastern Region

X-XXX-XXXX - DID

XXX-XXX-XXXX - Office

XXX-XXX-XXX - Cell

XXXX.XXXXXX@meijer.com

I was surprised to receive this e-mail; it went out to all of the displaced analysts and I can only assume my inclusion was an oversight. It originated from the Recruiting Coordinator and not his boss, the head of Human Resources in our region and the person I had been dealing with exclusively up until now, so that might explain the gaff. I shot back a response and copied everyone in HR on it, to see if I could get someone to actually admit something...or anything.

From: Renee
Sent: Monday, May 31, 2010 5:45 PM
To: XXXXXX, XXXXXX
Cc: XXXXXX, XXXXX; XXXXXX, XXXXX
Subject: RE: Open Positions in Eastern Region

Hi XXXXXX,

Precisely which of the stores listed below have “appropriate accommodations”. 237, of course, which I’ve already inquired into.

I am still puzzled about how I’m to apply for those positions, given I can’t work at a lot of (or maybe any) of those stores.

Best,

Renee

"A courtyard common to all will be swept by none."

- Chinese Proverb

P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail

I didn't really expect a response, but amazingly, I did receive one (from the Regional HR director, the woman who had been my nemesis for two years).

From: XXXXXX, XXXXXX
Sent: Thursday, June 03, 2010 7:54 AM
To: Renee
Subject: RE: Open Positions in Eastern Region

Hi Renee,

The following stores on the list have facilities available or that can be that can be converted:

Store #122

Store #64

Store #172

Store #173

Store #208

Store #233

As previously discussed positions move have been being filled quickly, please coordinate interviews with Scott Wilson.

Thanks!

XXXXXX X XXXXXX

Eastern Region HR Manager

Office Tie-Line: X-XXX-XXXX

Office Direct Dial XXX-XXX-XXXX

Cell Phone: XXX-XXX-XXXX

XXXXXX.XXXXXX@meijer.com

As you can see, the original list had 14 stores listed. The "special" list I received had six. Additionally, of those six, only one of them was within 30 miles of my home (as opposed to four from the original list). My response was straightforward.

From: Renee
Sent: Thursday, June 03, 2010 10:58 AM
To: XXXXXX, XXXXXX
Cc: XXXXXX, XXXXX; XXXXXX, XXXXX; XXXXXXXX, XXXXXXX
Subject: RE: Open Positions in Eastern Region
Importance: High

Hi XXXXXX,

I know we’ve been through this but seriously, the list that went out to everyone includes 14 sites. Counting 237, which isn’t on the list you sent me, I have exactly seven sites I can apply to. Clearly everyone else in the company has a huge competitive edge over me.

Furthermore, only 122 is even reasonably close to where I’m staying currently. Most candidates will have options to choose from that at least make some sort of sense to their lives, so again, a disadvantage I have that they don’t.

The Road to Ethics course states that Meijer is committed to providing a workplace free of favoritism and discrimination. Or maybe I’m remembering the portal message that’s up right now, that talks about unwavering ethics and “doing the right thing”? When we met in March you told me that my ability to be promoted was unaffected by the restrictions that impacted my mobility, but obviously, I’m up against a wall that others are not. Honestly, I’m not even talking about restrooms at this point; I’m a scared person facing unemployment in a down economy and I just want the same opportunity all of my peers have. I am an asset to this company and there has to be a solution to all of this.

Best,

Renee

"A courtyard common to all will be swept by none."

- Chinese Proverb

P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail

I did not receive a response, but I did send out this e-mail immediately after, to the Recruiting Coordinator, who was the originator of the first e-mail and the person who was supposed to be helping us with our relocation efforts.

From: Renee
Sent: Thursday, June 03, 2010 1:30 PM
To: XXXXXX, XXXXX
Cc: XXXXXX, XXXXXX; XXXXXX, XXXXX; XXXXXXXX, XXXXXXX
Subject: RE: Open Positions in Eastern Region
Importance: High

XXXXX,

Of the positions listed, I am interested in interviewing for the following:

53 – GM Area TL

63 – Service/Financial

122 –GM 40 TL

172 –3^rd Shift GM Stocking TL

237 –GM 48 TL, GM 40 TL

(It should be noted that I’ve already talked to XXXXXXX about the positions at 237 and was referred into the team leader trainee process, which I’ve completed two interviews for.)

I refuse to segregate myself from the rest of the analysts while pursuing relocation. That’s something you’ll have to do, if it’s going to happen.

Best,

Renee

"A courtyard common to all will be swept by none."

- Chinese Proverb

I did not receive a response to that e-mail either. Nor did I receive any interview opportunities. I continued to receive the generic postings sent out to all analysts, and expressed interest in multiple positions each time, but never received an interview. The interviews I had already completed, which I had set up myself through store level channels, were derailed by human resources...I suddenly became "not a good fit" even though the second interviewer had told me "we're going to find a home for you."

And that's just the most reproducible example of the kind of crap I was subjected to. And as horrible as it is, it's also pretty much legal, unless you happen to live in a state or city with gender identity protections. And even then it's shaky.

Restroom Politics III

2010-07-18T21:08:00.010-04:00

Below is the (possibly?) final entry in my restroom saga. It's adapted from a narrative I provided to Equality Michigan and the Michigan ACLU, at their request. Some of it is stuff I've said before, but never all together like this.

Names have been changed to protect the innocent and no-so-innocent. The name of the company is real.

The People:

Greg: My immediate supervisor (up until April of this year)

Karen: Meijer HR manager for the Eastern Region

Lisa: Corporate HR representative

The Story:

I announced to Meijer my plans to transition in 2007. At the time, I was employed as a store detective at Meijer. My job was primarily focused on arresting shoplifters and conducting internal fraud investigations, and I worked with a team of people throughout the Ann Arbor area. When I announced my transition, several of my co-workers voiced concern, saying they felt like I was a threat to their safety during apprehensions. Whether this was a motivating factor in what happened next I don't know, but at any rate, I was a laterally transferred from the store detective role to the shrink analyst role, and moved from the Ann Arbor area to one of the Detroit-based markets.

My job as shrink analyst was to go around to certain assigned stores and help them find ways to improve profit by reducing wastefulness and excess in the execution of their daily store processes. My new supervisor was “Greg”. Greg was made aware of my transition before I ever met him. On the day of our first meeting, he made it explicitly clear that he would assist me in every way possible to make my transition comfortable, safe, and smooth.

In the spring of 2008 I decided it was time to make the on-the-job transition. Greg and I met with my HR liaisons – “Karen” and “Lisa” – to discuss a timeline for my transition. As part of the transition, they wanted to move me into new assigned stores. One of the reasons for this was to give me a fresh start where people didn’t really know me. The other was because the stores I currently worked at did not have family-style unisex restrooms, which they had determined would be necessary for me. At that time I asked them to reconsider that decision, but they refused.

My new store assignments were the Southfield and Warren locations.

Between that first meeting and the time I was to go “full time” – which was set as August 18^th – Meijer invited representatives from the University of Michigan to speak to the staff of my new stores, on the subject of gender diversity and sensitivity. I am a member of the Gender Services Clinic at U of M and had helped facilitate those in-store meetings, though I was not present for them. From secondhand sources, I was told the “restroom rule” was clearly spelled out during these meetings. In one such meeting, the question was apparently asked about how transgender customers in the stores should be treated; the answer was that transgender customers could use whatever restroom they wanted.

In a separate follow-up meeting of my own with the U of M representatives, I asked them how they felt about the restroom restrictions. They stated that they were not happy with them and that they had suggested the more common, reasonable alternative of providing alternate accommodations for customers or employees who might not want to use a restroom with me, but that Meijer had chosen to go the route of restricting my restroom access and there was little that could be done about it.

Prior to the August 18^th “fulltime” date, I had another meeting with Greg, Karen, and Lisa. I again asked for leniency on the restroom restrictions, but they refused to reconsider. They did state that at such time as I completed my gender reassignment surgery and my driver’s license stated I was legally female, then I could use the women’s restrooms. I asked them to explain how that made any functional difference, given that surgery alters the appearance of my genitals, which are never on display anyway, and they offered no answer. I also asked how they expected to enforce the driver’s license rule, since people do not get carded to use a restroom, but again was told that the rules were the rules and I just had to accept them. They made it clear that violating this rule would lead to my termination. Notably, I was never provided a written copy of the policy. We ended with an agreement to meet every six months and re-evaluate how things were going for me in the stores.

From the very beginning experiencing problems with the “restroom rules” that I couldn’t have predicted before actually being subjected to them.

More than half the time – perhaps two-thirds – I found myself forced to wait for the restroom to become available. There was only one such restroom in each building and unlike some work environments where there are maybe a few dozen potential users of said restroom, in a Meijer there are literally hundreds of people potentially needing the accommodation at any given time. My typical wait averaged 10-15 minutes, though I frequently was forced to wait as long as half an hour or more. Sometimes I would leave and come back, only to find it still (or newly occupied). Sometimes I would get called away for a work responsibility and then have to return and “queue up” again. They are called “family restrooms” for a reason…they’re there for people with children, or for people who feel like they need extra privacy for whatever reason, and in those instances, the wait can be very long as people tend to take their time.

And it wasn’t like this was a civilized, orderly process; I would be sitting waiting my turn, but customers would often cut in front of me…and because I am identified as a store employee by the name tag I wear, it was difficult for me to assert my needs over theirs most of the time (although I did eventually get better about politely informing people that the line started behind me…it was still never a pleasant thing to have to do).

These restrooms were also frequently unclean. It is very difficult to keep a single restroom that sees so much use perfectly sanitary; there were many times I had to clean the restrooms myself to be able to use them. Sometimes I didn’t know there was a need to clean until it was too late; more than once I sat down or reached to flush and found myself with urine on my body or clothes. Sometimes the messes were completely beyond the pale…there was one instance where I walked into the restroom to find a pool of urine taking up most of the floor, blocking off the toilet entirely. Another time I had to wash my hands in a sink filled with vomit. The worst occasion is one I still can't really talk about, because the thought of it make me nauseous. I always went to Greg and store management about these issues but keeping the restrooms clean would take 24/7 vigilance and the store just prioritized that need. And unlike every other person in the store who had an option to use or not use a restroom they find unacceptably dirty, I never had a choice and was always stuck with whatever the conditions were.

Apart from all of this was the daily humiliation. Every trip to the restroom felt like a walk of shame. And it wasn’t always in my head. Sometimes employees would offer me support, saying they didn’t understand why I couldn’t just use a regular restroom like everyone else. And I appreciated the minor amount of solidarity, but such comments also made me realize just how much attention people were paying to me and what I was doing.

There was another big piece of evidence too. On just my second week in the new stores, a couple store employees accused me of using the public women’s restroom, in violation of what they had been told the rule was. The first I heard of this was when Greg called me and interviewed me over the phone about my restroom activities. Of course, I had never used the public restroom; I suspect that because the office I used was near the back of the store in the exact spot where the restrooms were also located, people were confused about my comings and goings. A full investigation was launched (yes, that’s right, a full investigation into my personal hygiene habits) and I was eventually exonerated thanks to video surveillance footage. The store personnel involved in promoting the witch-hunt were reprimanded.

About a month later the accusations happened again. This time I actually spoke to my accusers, although they didn’t know who it was they were talking to (they called the office to complain and I just happened to be the person that picked up). They stated that it wasn’t fair that I was using the restrooms since they had been told it wouldn’t be that way and called my alleged presence in the restrooms “disturbing”. I never let on about whom it was they were speaking to and immediately reported the incident to Greg, and to the area Loss Prevention manager. I was never investigated for this second allegation.

It was around this time, I think, that I started using the restrooms at work less. At first it was an unconscious, involuntary act.

In December, Greg and I met with Karen and Lisa again. Although this was supposed to be a six month checkup to see how my transition as a whole was going, we mostly talked about restrooms. I explained my concerns (as described above) but was told there would be no change forthcoming. I tried to appeal on moral grounds. Karen tried to placate me by saying that she preferred the family restrooms over the public restrooms and used them exclusively when she was in stores that had them. I pointed out that at least she had a choice, a sentiment she seemed sympathetic to. Even so, she stated there would be no modification to the rule.

Things continued much the same over the course of the next year. I was almost always stuck waiting to use restrooms, they were still messy, and now I was periodically suffering UTIs. It was about this time I became conscious of the fact I wasn’t drinking enough fluids or using the restroom as frequently as before my transition.

I also found myself in situations at both my stores where I *had* to use the restroom (as in, it was an emergency) but the family restroom was either out-of-order or being cleaned. The protocol in these situations was the “buddy system” – I was to find someone to act as chaperon, and they would first clear a public restroom and then act as guard while I did my business. Because of my earlier problems with being falsely accused of using the restrooms, I felt obligated to notify both Greg and someone in store leadership, just so no one could come back and say I was doing anything inappropriate. Needless to say, this was very humiliating. This happened exactly twice – once at each of my stores – and was traumatizing enough that I never did it again, even though there were times when I probably should have.

It was also during this time that the larger scale problem with these restrictions became really clear to me. Because although I was assigned to two specific stores, the shrink analysts in each area work as a team, and we often would go to each others stores to help with training, or to troubleshoot problems, or to cover for another analyst while they were on vacation. I found myself unable to do these simple, basic things that allowed me to participate as a fully functioning member of my team.

Occasionally we would have all-staff meetings. These meetings were typically located at stores convenient to everyone, and were not chosen because of convenient restroom options for me. When at these meetings, the “buddy system” was my only option for using a restroom. My fellow analysts were always sympathetic and willing to help me out, but it was nonetheless very embarrassing and made me feel “special” (and not in a good way).

During the month of October, 2009, the shrink analyst team was assigned to emergency weekend shifts on certain Sundays, to see whether the stores were getting their weekly ad signs in place in a timely and appropriate manner. This direction came from corporate with very little warning, and many of our analysts were unable to cover their stores because of previous obligations. Those of us who could work were expected to pick up their stores as well as our own, and that included me. I spent 6-8 hours in other peoples’ stores on consecutive Sundays, with no restroom availability, and no one I knew well enough to want to humiliate myself by going the “buddy system” route with. One of these stores didn’t even have a gas station, which was always a measure of absolute last resort for me at most stores. On one of these weekends, I ended up at that store and having to use the restroom very badly, but still holding it until I got to my own store…over two hours. On the next weekend, I simply didn’t drink any water and spent the next several days sick from dehydration.

As I was discovering how the limitations on my mobility affected my ability to do my job, I began to suspect I was never going to be able to be promoted within the Meijer structure. All positions above me required more mobility, not less; some of them required freedom to go to any store within the market (seven stores) or region (40 stores). Even bottom-level leadership positions, which are mostly based out of a single store, require the ability to travel to and from other stores periodically, and to pursue promotions further up the chain, you need to be able to bid on jobs where ever they pop up.

During this time, I continued to talk to Greg about my concerns. I wanted to have another meeting with HR to talk about these issues, but could never get it prioritized. Finally, in the spring of 2010, Meijer launched its new “Road to Ethics” training program. This was a corporate HR tool, facilitated through an online training course, which every employee in the company was required to take. In it they proudly touted their unswerving commitment to workplace ethics and a “workplace free of harassment and discrimination”. I think I sent Greg three angry e-mails before I had even finished the program, and then called him to make sure he saw my e-mails and understood them. My concern was that the “Road to Ethics” was clearly a lie in that it didn’t apply to me whatsoever, and if Meijer was going to say such things in such a bold way, they should have to live up to them. The next morning Greg called me to tell me he had escalated my concerns to HR and that it had generated some immediate conversation. I received a call that weekend from Lisa letting me know they had heard my complaint and were treating it with the utmost seriousness. Three weeks later I finally met with Karen to discuss my concerns.

I presented her with a powerpoint that spelled out all of my concerns. Her response to my concerns was summed up by three statements she made to me:

“These are just your feelings and opinions.”
“We have bent over backwards to allow you to transition and we are not going to make further changes.”
“We are within our legal right to do this and we are not going to do anything more than that.”

I explained that my UTIs and other health concerns weren't opinions or feelings. I took umbrage with the use of the word "alllow", and how entitled it was for them to think they should have that much control over my life. I repeatedly asked for explanations, but she simply stated it was a “business decision”. When asked who made the decisions, she offered to facilitate a meeting with the next person up on the chain (I decided such a meeting was ultimately pointless and instead went to the EEOC).

Frustrated with the response I was getting, I contacted the EEOC. The EEOC said my complaint was complicated but with some merit, and set up a date to talk to me. The day before that meeting was to occur, I received word that Meijer had decided to eliminate the shrink analyst position (this was on March 30^th). We were given 90 days warning, starting from March 30^th and going to June 28^th, during which time we could seek relocation within the company. We were also given the option of a severance package. We were given 45 days to decide whether to sign the severance agreement or not; signing it came with the condition that we could not file discrimination or harassment suits against the company.

On March 31rst I went in to the EEOC and filed my complaint. They took the claim on the grounds of sex discrimination, disability discrimination, medical privacy violation, and retaliation (i.e., the restroom restriction was to be seen as a passive aggressive attack on myself for having the audacity to transition in their company). I was told up front that the claim would be a hard one to fight, given the lack of legal support for the whole transgender/restroom issue. I considered also going to OSHA to file a complaint, but under advisement from the ACLU, I ended up signing the severance agreement instead. In doing so, I had to formally close my EEOC complaint (I’m still not sure why the waiver in the severance applies to my complaint about restroom usage, but when I showed the paperwork to the EEOC rep, they told me signing it would definitely preclude my ability to pursue a claim against Meijer).

Despite misgivings about the way I had been treated, I pursued a manager promotion at Meijer anyway. Fourteen years of service was hard to give up on. I deliberately left the HR department out of my search...hiring for store positions is done at the store level, and I figured HR would only throw up roadblocks. As it turns out, I was right. I made it through two rounds of interviews for a manager trainee position, and was told "we'll find a home for you." Two weeks later I got a call from Karen...word had gotten back to the HR department. I was told I was not seen as a “good fit” and the position was not going to be offered to me. No further explanation was offered, though I solicited all involved parties for an answer.

I continued to express interest in job postings. I have copies of certain email exchanges with the HR department, in which I'm warned against applying for positions at stores that do not have "appropriate accommodations". I ignored said emails and expressed interest in a number of openings, at stores with and without unisex restroom facilities. I never received a single other interview, despite assurances from the HR department that interviews would be facilitated and analysts prioritized when seeking new positions.

On June 28^th, 2010, I participated in my exit interview, at which time I was informed of when my severance package would be paid out and whatnot. I've been unemployed since.

Restroom Politics II

2010-05-15T22:42:00.007-04:00

In my previous post, I promised to talk about some of the practical, day-to-day problems the "family restroom only" proviso has caused me at work. Since that post, I've found myself writing about it in other venues, most notably Bilerico. And most of that was paraphrased from a fifteen page document I prepared and presented to my Human Resources representatives two months ago, and subsequently to the EEOC. For completion's sake, I'll re-post those thoughts below, somewhat modified and expanded upon for this medium.

Remember as you read this, I work in a busy retail environment. Also, I'm a corporate employee for whom a certain amount of travel between store locations is necessary to perform my job. These two facts represent, I think, the most important idea present in this essay: Workplaces are not all self-contained office spaces, easily managed and regulated. In many cases, they are considerably more dynamic than that. What if you have to travel to different locations often? What if your work space is a shifting arena of public venues? What if you're forced to share the one restroom you have access to not with a dozen people but several hundred? What if your ability to be promoted and make a better life for yourself is tied to one or more of the above questions, for which no good answer has been provided you? These are the things our lawmakers aren't thinking about as they move forward with ENDA.

At the very top of my list of wrongs is this: Humiliation. Prior to my work transition, the new stores I was assigned to were paid visits by HR representatives, who held meetings in which every employee was required to attend. And while they did some good things at these meetings, like go over pronoun usage and whatnot, they also made sure to let everyone know that I would not be sharing a restroom with them at any point in time. This bit of policy-making was later used to embarrass me, both intentionally and unintentionally, by certain store employees. Furthermore, it created a "walk of shame" scenario where every single time I have to use the restroom, I can tell their eyes are upon me. And I know I'm not just imagining it, because I am approached by coworkers who voice unsolicited sympathy and support for me after watching what I go through just to pee (some of these moments make-up the unintentional embarrassment I mentioned earlier...I did and still do appreciate the support, but in the moment, it just calls attention to my "other" status and makes me feel even more alone and alienated).
The family restroom is one of its most active spaces in our stores. I rarely visit the restroom where I can just walk right in...perhaps two-thirds of the time I'm required to wait my turn, and at times, I've waited for more than half-an-hour. Sometimes I get called away for work responsibilities before I can do what I came to do. Sometimes I give up and come back later, even though I really need to, you know, do my business.
Because these restrooms are so busy, they get dirty quickly, and don't receive the kind of maintenance they probably deserve. I've had to clean up urine, feces, and even vomit before I've been able to actually use the facility. Also, I frequently have to go track down toilet paper first. Certainly that's not my job, but when you've been waiting for half an hour already, you gotta do what you gotta do.
Sometimes things go...unseen. More than once I've ended up with someone else's urine on my hands or clothes because the person who went before me left a hard to detect "present" on the lid, the handle, the toilet bowl, or the floor. Normally cautious about this stuff anyway, I've had to up my level of vigilance.
I've had three minor UTIs in the last twelve months. Can I prove this is related to the longer wait times and inconvenience of having to use this particular restroom? I dunno, but I doubt very much it's unrelated.
When the unisex restroom is out of order, the mandated procedure is this: Find someone I know and trust to chaperon me to a public restroom, where they will stand guard to prevent the general public or other employees from entering. Also, I must notify two levels of management...store management and my own supervisor (I'm a corporate employee and my supervisor isn't present in my physical location). This is so humiliating in practice that I've simply chosen to "hold it"...which again, isn't healthy.
Not all of our stores have unisex restrooms, though. In fact, only three out of a couple dozen in my immediate area are so equipped. The net effect of this is that when I announced my transition, I was forcibly relocated to a home store farther away from where I live than necessary, requiring extra travel and gas (at my own expense). Because I couldn't travel as freely as before, I was limited in the way I was able to perform my job; often I was not able to fully participate with the rest of my team, causing them to have to carry extra workload, and at other times I was required to perform job tasks at stores that simply didn't have the necessary facilities to accommodate me.
Perhaps worst of all, the restroom restriction makes me unpromotable. All positions above me require additional, not less, mobility. It is literally impossible for me to perform the responsibilities of any better-paying job at my company without a revision to the existing restroom policy.
Additionally, there are concerns about medical privacy. If it's mandated that you use a restroom apart from your colleagues, or in a way other employees are not, it does potentially reveal things about your medical history to all of those other people, which is supposed to be illegal in and of itself.

There will likely be one more post after this one. I wasn't just sitting around while all of this stuff was going on; I was constantly trying to find a way to demonstrate how patently unfair this restroom restriction was. I want to talk about those meetings with my HR reps and what happened; it got ugly by the end and I think it illustrates just how little good a mealy-mouthed version of ENDA will do when it comes up against corporate America, which quite frankly, and with very rare exception, just doesn't give a shit about us.

Restroom Politics

2010-05-04T23:47:00.008-04:00

I've decided to re-open this blog to talk a bit about something near and dear to me: restroom segregation for trans people. As ENDA draws near, this conversation is only going to get louder. ENDA champion Barney Frank has made his opinion clear, even while trans advocates and allies remind that nothing is set in stone yet. But this has been my nightmare for the last two years, and even amongst other trans people, if you haven't lived this, then there are subtle but terrifying nuances you might miss.

Some of this is really specific to the job I held, so I'll talk about that a bit. I work for a big box retailer, in a position they called "shrink analyst". I was a corporate employee, but one who worked in specific, assigned stores. I was sort of a troubleshooter...I'd split time between my stores, researching ways to improve their profit margin by eliminating waste and excess...whether that meant preventing product from becoming damaged, or helping leadership find better ways to manage their daily routines. I was a part of a team of such people and in addition to dealing with our own stores, we often covered for each other or worked together to resolve issues that transcended the store-level stuff that was our bread-and-butter. The important thing to remember is that I worked in very busy, department type stores and that my basic job function required a great deal of mobility.

When I transitioned on the job, the rule was made clear to me: Unisex restrooms only, until such time as I was able to legally change my sex, by way of gender reassignment surgery. I argued until I was blue in the face, but nothing swayed them. Eventually my supervisor, who was always a champion of my causes, convinced me that we'd be better served fighting a polite battle within the system than ruffling feathers from without. In retrospect, I don't think he was wrong...I just think it was an unwinnable situation, period.

And lord knows, I tried to win it. Polite conversation. Not so polite conversation. Huge, detailed powerpoints. An EEOC complaint. Contacting my local ACLU. Also contacting my local equality advocacy group, Michigan Triangle. Everywhere I went, people told me it would be a tough fight...more than once I heard "If only we had ENDA already...". And now we get word that ENDA may not be a help at all. To say it's disheartening is the least strong sentiment I can express. To say that it makes me queasy and want to throw up is more accurate...without hyperbole, I have some kind of PTSD over this, and if I think about it too long, I'll be in ruins.

The Ideological Concerns

Anyone who has spent any time thinking or reading about the civil rights movement understands these key points, but I'll present them here anyway.

It's Discriminatory. This is the heartbeat of the argument. The definition of Discrimination is "special treatment based on class or category". Clearly, the rule we're discussing here meets the standard of that definition. We know discrimination to be wrong...history has proven that over and over again. This should be all the more defense we need, but sadly, it doesn't stand on its own.

It's Othering. We know discrimination is wrong, but we don't always think about why it's wrong. There are a million reasons why, really, but a term that's come into common use lately, and which I like to use for its broad implications, is "othering". You see, if the problem solely existed amongst a few who, we might be able to deal with that...but when those people get their way and get to make rules like this for us, it's a voice of authority telling everyone - most of whom wouldn't necessarily be inclined to dislike or distrust us - that there is something wrong with transsexuals that requires them to be treated differently than "normal" folk. That is what powers discrimination, and that is what othering is about. It takes the viewpoint of an influential few and establishes it as social policy, giving it a sort of implied "correctness" that is harder to overturn later.

It's Dangerous. Perhaps the most troubling aspect of this line of thinking is just how dangerous it is. It is one example of transphobic behavior, just like hate-related homicide is an example of transphobic behavior. They may be on different ends of it, but stripping a person of restroom privileges and stripping them of their life reside on the same spectrum. You may argue that dangerous people will always be dangerous, even if transsexuals are allowed free use of public restrooms, and there may be some truth to that. But people have to understand that the message "it's okay to treat transsexuals differently" doesn't stop at restrooms in everyone's minds, especially when the reasons cited for why the restroom rule exists include things like "keeping our women and children safe". Because really, if something is a threat to women and children...maybe that something needs to be eliminated outright, no? Sadly, there will always be a small, but ever present minority, for whom violence is an acceptable answer to society's perceived ills, and those people don't need any more provocation than they already have. It sounds dramatic but in all seriousness, if you can take one thing, you can take everything.

It's Sexist And Classist. A point that sometimes gets overlooked is the whole "get a vagina and everything will be okay" defense, which my employer fell back on. Never mind just how nonsensical it is, consider what they're really saying: Who you are, how you behave, how well integrated you are, and everything we know and trust about you (which for me included 13 years of over-the-top loyalty and service) is completely subordinate to one simple question: Do you have a vagina? In one fell swoop they reduced womanhood to a price tag (approximately 22k, domestically, if you're curious), something all women should be angry about. Now granted, no one who wasn't truly driven would spend that money in this way, but none of that mattered to these people; in the end, it was simply about the letter F on the proper documents, completely ignoring the fact that many trans women simply don't have the means to make this happen (and what about trans men, for whom this whole conversation is even more involved and complicated?). Bottom line, a woman's genitals are the most important thing about her and go fuck yourself if you're poor.

And that's where I'm going to leave off for tonight. Tomorrow I'll get into the gruesome details of how this played out for me in real life.

Moving?

2010-02-05T22:10:00.004-05:00

So I'm relocating. Tumblr suits me better, methinks...tools for reblogging stuff I see elsewhere and a focus on succinct, punchy commentary...I like that. Oddly, it doesn't have a built in commenting system, but it supports Disqus, so I think I'm all set.

There's only a handful of you here who follow my blog anyway...I encourage you to add my new feed to the RSS feedreader of your choice.

Transsexual Ferox.

A-Hole

2010-01-26T08:23:00.003-05:00

Author's Note: This anecdote is meant as a companion piece to Christianne's brilliant blog-post from yesterday. I should leave it over there as a comment, really, but it was a significant enough event for me, I feel inclined to enshrine it here. A few of you have heard this story already, so please bear with me.

A couple weeks ago, Beth and I and another friend were sitting around the living room, shooting the breeze. This other friend never knew me prior to transition and as Beth and I sometimes do, we were availing him of stories of our past together. At some point, Beth said something to the effect of, "Thank God that's all over."

"Yeah," I said, "but it wasn't all bad."

She was quiet for a moment, then: "No, but Scott was an asshole."

I was momentarily stunned by the levels of meaning in her statement. "You really think so? I didn't think he was all bad."

"No," she replied, "he was an asshole. You're not."

I still don't know if I agree with her about the "asshole" part. I still don't know how I feel about referring to my past in third person. I don't know about a lot of things. But her perspective, given that she knew me and knows me better than anyone, speaks volumes.

Robbie Burns Interrupts My Cynicism

2010-01-24T16:05:00.010-05:00

I know I promised some ranting in my last blog post, but that's going to have to wait. Despite scary local and national politics, aggravation at work, and frustration with the dynamics of dating, I find myself resplendent. It's hard to be tense after two days of shopping, facials, nail polish, hair, makeup, and fabulous clothes...culminating in an evening of cocktails, food (haggis!), toasts, Scottish pipers and dancers, a live orchestra, dancing, general merriment, and a vast array of colorful characters. All in the company of some great new friends.

I could wax philosophical perhaps, but instead I'll just post some pics. (Apologies to my FB friends who have already seen these).

Not So Well Heeled

2010-01-21T20:13:00.008-05:00

Thus far, my transition has been relatively easy. Many of the typical worries never manifested for me. My family and spouse support me on every level, past friends remain friends and new ones abound, and being gainfully employed was never a concern. In some ways I consider myself very lucky.

But there's a whole lot that isn't right still. This stuff with Paul Scott is just the latest. I'm not getting into everything now, but expect some bitching in the near future, on a variety of topics.

I <3 Mom and Dad

2010-01-05T20:56:00.009-05:00

In my family, all of the girls at some point receive a bed doll as a Christmas gift. My parents decided this year I would finally get mine.

And for my birthday, they gave me a card. I'm not normally one for Hallmark sentimentality but this I love.

Catching My Breath

2009-10-31T03:33:00.005-04:00

Before the month runs out on me I feel the need make note of something, if only for posterity's sake.

So I had my first crush, which turned into my first real fling with a man. Which sounds a lot racier than it was, but it was personal and intimate, so I guess that counts as a "fling". Sadly, it ran it's course awfully fast. Faster than I wanted it too...not long enough to even call it "dating" really. At least I felt connected to someone again, if only for the briefest of times, and I know he was connected to me as well. It was just other stuff that got in the way.

I won't lie though...I may not regret, but I am left grasping for answers. When won't "other stuff" be in the way? I guess I'll have to trust that good things await.

While I breathe, I hope.
- Chinese Proverb

Loki

2009-10-19T19:47:00.015-04:00

(from earlier today)

Renee: Great, my cat just stuck his face in mine...which he does a lot. Normally he just sniffs my mouth to see what I've been eating. This time he licked my lips. He must like apple cider.

khyri: I'm torn between and

Renee: Me too! Now he's rolled onto my left arm to be cradled. He likes to play baby.

(pause while I look down to see him napping comfortably in the crook of my arm, his chin resting on my shoulder)

Renee: I can't even stand how cute he is right now. I swear, I don't know what I would have done without this cat these last few months.

*****

As noted elsewhere in this blog, I've spent a lot of quiet, lonely nights in my apartment these past few months. My friends have been a great comfort to me. But Loki has been my ever-present companion. He sleeps with me. He snuggles with me while I watch tv. And apparently he shares meals with me. I know he's really only trying to fulfill his own needs, but I love him just the same.

Three Things...

2009-10-19T00:06:00.001-04:00

I had to work today, which was the suck. But a trio of little things happened to make it a little fun...and a lot interesting.

I had always heard grocery stores were a great place to meet men, but today was the first time someone actually tried to pick me up. And he was really forward about it too..."If you give me your number, you can be sure I'll call." I politely turned him down, but was flattered nonetheless.
The task I was assigned to do took me to a store I haven't worked at since before my transition. Some people there know me, some don't. As I walked in a greeter I had never met approached me. She first commented on my height, and then couldn't stop gushing about how beautiful I was and how I should be a model. I'm sure I was blushing as I thanked her and took my leave. By the time I'd walked to the back of the store and then back to the front she'd attracted a crowd around her, including a couple of my former co-workers. And as it turns out, they were talking about me. My "secret" was out. Funny thing, my new greeter friend wouldn't believe it until I confirmed for her, and for the next twenty minutes the four of them took turns trying to outdo each other with flattery and compliments. I eat that stuff for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
While at that same store, and quite by accident, I ran into my very first manager at Meijer, a man I've known for some 13 years. And we've worked together on and off during that time, but not since my transition. As I approached him, he held the door...and totally didn't recognize me. Even after I said, "Brian, you don't know who I am, do you," it took him a second. I love that.

Anyway, that was my day. How was yours?

Horror Movie Challenge Update

2009-10-17T21:14:00.000-04:00

Okay, here's the list so far...

October 9th:

Deadgirl (new)
[Rec] (new)
Dead Ringers (new...can you believe I had never seen this before. Also, I'm not sure it even counts.)
Zombieland (new)

October 10th:

Trick 'r Treat (new)

October 17th:

Eaten Alive (new)
Re-Animator
Eyes of the Werewolf (New, and I wish I could take it back)
In The Mouth of Madness

The 17th isn't over yet, so I may get a few more under my belt...

I should note also, I've seen [Rec] and Trick 'r Treat twice now... I liked them so much I had to show friends. I don't get to count them twice, but I think it speaks to my character and reputation as a horror fan.

BHRT

2009-10-14T09:14:00.000-04:00

So here's something new...

In about an hour my HRT shifts into the realm of BHRT - Bio-Identical Hormone Replacement Therapy. Instead of popping the little green estradiol pills which are pretty much standard these days, I'll be slathering tiny amounts of an estradiol/estriol topical compund on various parts of my body twice a day. This regimen, sometimes referred to as BiEst, is apparently gaining in popularity among post-menopausal women, but I've found virtually no documentation about its use in transsexual women.

The big difference between standard HRT and BHRT is that BHRT delivers hormones that are Bio-Identical to human hormones on a molecular level, as opposed to the synthetic stuff the little green pills are made of. The benefits of this are, theoretically, numerous. Synthetic hormones are linked to an increased chance of blood clots, heart disease, breast cancer, and stroke. Proponents of BHRT maintain that all of these risks are significantly decreased when using Bio-Identical Hormones. Additionally, because the hormones are applied dermally instead of ingested orally, their negative impact upon the liver is much reduced (this is the part that sold my doctor...since starting HRT my liver has shown slight, but noticeable, signs of impairment).

Supposedly there may be other benefits too: Increased calm and mental clarity, improved sexual function, and the ability to lose weight easier. I'm obviously in favor of all of these, so I hope the propaganda rings true.

Of course, I have misgivings as well. It's a little more expensive for starters...about $36 a month, instead of my $5 co-pay. More importantly, is it the best approach for me? Much of the documentation suggests the real problem with synthetic hormones is that they're just too powerful for the needs of most women. That may be true, but what about the needs of transsexual women who, like it or not, have a somewhat different biological agenda? Again, there doesn't appear to be much research out there on this. I feel a little like a guinea pig...but there's excitement wrapped up in there too...I guess I'm actually geeked to be trying something new and different.

At any rate, I'll keep you updated if anything weird happens...like if I grow an extra head or something.

Not A Jinx (I hope...)

2009-10-12T00:52:00.000-04:00

Renee: I should blog, but i don't want to jinx myself.

khyri: I see that. You could blog about not wanting to jinx yourself by blogging. Another of those meta blogs. Or just post this convo. Or blog about not posting the convo, because that would jinx things.

Renee: I should.

Zombies, zombies, everywhere...

2009-10-09T23:40:00.000-04:00

A bit late, I've decided to throw my hat into the October Horror Movie Challenge ring. I skipped it last year, but the previous two years I succeeded (if barely).

So far I've seen:

Deadgirl (new)
[Rec] (new)
Dead Ringers (new...can you believe I had never seen this before. Also, I'm not sure it even counts.)
Zombieland (new)

So, here we are on October 9th and I've only seen four movies. I have a lot of catching up to do...

It Started with Kalamazoo...

2009-09-28T20:56:00.000-04:00

While chatting with me the other night, Liz showed me something:

The first thing to catch my attention was its origin: Kalamazoo, MI. It kinda rolled off me; Michigan being my home state, I was already familiar with the anti-trans propaganda surrounding the city's attempt to get gay and trans protections added to its books. It saddens me this stuff is out there. It frustrates me that my gender is treated like a political ideology, as if it's perfectly okay to debate and discuss - and reach a verdict on - with or without my involvement. But it ceases to shock me like it used to.

I was about to click away when the little "bio" in the lower left caught my eye. After reading it, I immediately started googling. I've been doing that a little bit each day, for about four days now.

The woman's name is Kimberly Nixon. I had heard her name before, but not her story.

In 1995 she became a volunteer for Vancouver Rape Relief and Women's Shelter. Shortly after beginning her training, she was dismissed because, as a transsexual, she did not have the same life experiences as "women born and raised women". Like the poster says, the VRR didn't believe she was fit to counsel rape and abuse survivors...even though she was an abuse survivor herself. She brought suit and for 12 years fought for the right to help others the way she herself had once been helped (yes, that reads as absurd as you think it does). The indignities heaped upon her were many and varied, including not just having her gender scrutinized, but being labeled a menace to women in general. And in the end, it was all for naught; her final appeal was not so much denied as refused to be heard, and the case was dead.

*****

Her story hit me like a ton of bricks because, as some of you know, I'm a volunteer advocate for rape and domestic violence survivors.

And because what happened to her was what I was most afraid would happen to me. When I first tentatively suggested I might like to volunteer, when I filled out the volunteer application, while I waited for the background checks to come back, when I went through the first interview...I kept expecting there to be a "problem". I didn't dare get my hopes up. I was anticipating the "debate".

And I think I waited for it right up until the first moments of my orientation class, when the volunteer director gave us all directions on where to find the women's restroom...and promptly moved on to cover the policies and procedures portion of our training.

*****

I didn't write this with a moral in mind. I spent a few days and a few drafts trying to think of one. It's not about how lucky I am; volunteering for me was about the work and not the personal validation, which is why I endured the (totally unnecessary) anxieties that I did . And it's not about how the organization I volunteer with is so much more amazing than the VRR (HAVEN is amazing, and I have no doubt the VRR has done amazing, tremendous work as well). Maybe it's just a story about personal dignity, our constant struggle to understand each other, and the epic failures we seem to have to endure en route to that.

Follow the links.

Incomplete

2009-09-22T20:08:00.000-04:00

Renee: I'm going to leave a slightly maudlin blog post, I think.

khyri: Oh, you're going to BLOG?

Renee: Well, I was thinking about it.

khyri: I'll give you some peace then. You're overdue.

Renee: This isn't going to be a big one. (brief pause) Hmmm, I don't want to write what I was going to write, though.

khyri: Which was?

Renee: Mentioning how my day was stressful, and my sanctuary doesn't feel very comforting. But I don't really want to continue with that thread.

khyri: ah.

Renee: I feel like I've started something with the last couple posts, and can't move on from them without providing some closure. Which is why I haven't blogged at all lately. Maybe I'll blog about that.

khyri: Right, you need to complete the thread.

(Thanks Liz, for being around tonight.)

Changes

2009-09-07T22:38:00.000-04:00

The apartment was a lot quieter this weekend. I imagine there will be a lot of weekends like that - and probably some weekdays too - going forward. It's not something I really want to get used to, but I realize I must.

It's funny because it's not like Beth hasn't been gone for extended periods of time before. And yes, by the second or third day I start to miss her, but not like this. This is different. This feels like she's not coming back. Probably because somewhere down the road I know one or both of us will leave this place and we won't be coming back. Not as tenants and roomies, anyway.

I'm pretty sure that's how she felt two years ago when I decided we needed a separation. Maybe this past year-and-a-half has all been borrowed time. If so, I'm thankful for it.

These recent changes have exacerbated many issues for me, some of which I didn't realize were issues at all. All the years I spent at the computer or away playing games while she fretted on the couch or in the bedroom, desperate for my attention. The years of neglect and apathy in general. How I handled my transition with her, and the healing step I now believe I deprived her of. Uncertainty about the future. The ability to survive on my own, which I've never had to test and the very idea of which scares me senseless. And my own terrible fear that I'll be alone the rest of my life.

I wouldn't trade sanctuary from all of those anxieties, though, for even a single one of the many smiles she's had these past couple weeks.

Finally, thanks to all my friends, be they geographically far or near, for filling up my idle hours lately and dispelling some of the silence. I love you all.

Blam!

2009-08-25T00:02:00.000-04:00

Last week was the one year anniversary of my real-life experience. Little did I know that real-life was going to whack me upside the head with its biggest experience yet.

I'm reluctant to say much because it's so personal to someone other than myself, but the long and the short of it is that Beth started dating again this weekend. I want this for her. I thought I was ready. I was wrong.

Which is my problem, of course. Her life doesn't depend on me being ready, just like mine didn't depend on her being ready when transition happened. Some things you just can't be, I suppose; they gobsmack you and leave you reeling; eventually, with luck, you regain your balance.

But holy crap is it hard. I'm a lot better right now, but I was a mess all weekend long, and I can only hope that was the worst of it. I don't know though.

It's hard to explain my feelings. On so many levels they make no sense...are even hypocritical to a great degree. She wants and needs romance, which I can't give her, but in the process, so much of the stuff we do share will be replaced. I know we'll always have an incredible friendship, but it's uniqueness feels jeopardized in my mind.

The worst of it is that my internal struggle is hurting her. This should be a happy time for her. I want to be strong and share in her happiness, not make it harder. I'm working on finding my zen place.

That.

2009-08-16T22:02:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, a friend called.

"I need to set up a co-worker with someone...you know any single girls?".

Ummm, I know one really well, I think. But I keep it private because if I say it, I know what comes next.

I'm not really serious about setting anyone up, but I'm humoring my friend, so I throw out a couple names and what they like to do for fun.

"Well, he's not really into clubbing or any of that."

Hmmm, me either. But keep it to myself because if I say it, I know what comes next.

Instead I ask, "Well, what's he like?"

"He's 6'7", kinda geeky, laid back, not really into partying or clubbing, really nice," she replies.

Figures, I thought, just my type. ~~But I keep it to myself again because if I say it, I know what comes next~~. And against my better judgment, I actually do say something this time.

"You should set him up with me."

She pauses for a second, no doubt thinking about how to say what comes next. Which is funny, because I know exactly what she's going to say already. And so do you, probably.

"I would, but I don't think he's into that."

Yep, I knew it. Fuck.

Waiting...

2009-08-07T19:47:00.000-04:00

So, since my last blog post I've had:

Boy trouble,
Friend trouble,
and things generally not go in my favor.

On top of that, I failed to train two Yetis today. Two! I'm the Warlord, training minions is my specialty!

That said, I'm in a pretty good mood. But it's about time for a little good news, methinks.

Blueprint

2009-07-22T18:27:00.000-04:00

So the much ballyhooed episode of ABC Primetime: The Chloe Prince Story has come and gone. I won't get into content; Chloe and I are philosophically misaligned, and I don't see the need to belabor that here. I will say this though...despite the producers best attempts, it was impossible to disguise how really sad everyone was.

I sometimes imagine a different kind of documentary...

In it, a couple - as concerned for each other as they are for themselves - has chosen to part ways amicably. They debunk the ridiculous notions that divorce equals failure and only two-parent families are real by being present and loving...with each other, and their children. And when the interviewer inevitably asks "What about the children?", they reply together, "Happiness has value...that's a lesson we want our children to grow up with."

I'm hoping someone makes that documentary someday. I think we all need to see it.

Rubber Hitting Road

2009-07-01T23:41:00.000-04:00

A close friend asked me last night how I dealt with the feelings leading up to going fulltime.

I remember those feelings. The excitement, the anxiousness. And the fear. Not a fear of being rejected - although there was definitely some of that too - but more of taking that step, getting there, and then realizing nothing had really changed. That it didn't matter after all.

And all you can do is have patience and faith. Patience, to keep from tearing peoples' heads off while not crawling out of your own skin. And faith that, even though you can't imagine it, things will be different.

They were for me. New friends. New experiences. New ambitions. All things I could never have imagined back in August. Things that if I could have imagined, had even an inkling they were possible, I wouldn't have been afraid at all.

You'll be fine, love.

Let the games begin...

2009-06-26T09:07:00.000-04:00

So a trans-inclusive version of ENDA was introduced into congress this week. And as Liz pointed out to me, it's opposition has already started in with the scare tactics. There's a video - heck, maybe there's more than one...I haven't even looked - that shamelessly disparages the trans-community and, yes, even rolls out that old chestnut: transsexuals are here to threaten your children. I'm not going to post it here because I don't want its cooties infecting my virtual domain, but if you haven't seen it, it shouldn't be hard to find.

It's totally offensive. And it's also not worrying me too much. It seems like the sort of thing that only appeals to hopeless whack-jobs. Oh, there are those whack-jobs out there...I know there are. You see them leaving comments at places like CNN.com, where there's been a lot of trans coverage lately. But I don't know anyone in my day-to-day life who would give that hate-mongering piece of crap video a second look...and I have a pretty robust social network these days.

In fact, my interactions with people in the last year, and the warmth they've shown me, has been emboldening. I think we are ready for something like ENDA. And when I say "we" I mean all of us, this country...Americans.

June 18th

2009-06-18T19:51:00.000-04:00

It was on June 18^th, 1994, that Beth and I officially became a couple.

Today, she came into my room and sat on the edge of my bed while I did my makeup. Together we played with Loki, who seems to like these times especially, when both his people are in the room at the same time. That was often our thing, when she and I still shared a bed…Loki would lay between us and we would alternately poke and prod him from under the sheets, which he would attack with fervor and gusto. “Sheet Monster” we called the game. Then we would lavish him with love and affection from both sides until he was in little kitty heaven. That’s what we did today.

I wonder if these are the last of those moments. I can already feel the tug of separate destinies upon Beth and I. The life I’m building seems to be in the suburbs of Detroit, but her work and friends are still very much here. And eventually one or both of us is going to meet someone new, and that person is going to need some of the space the other of us is taking up.

If these are the last of those moments, I want to make the most of them.

*****

“Goodbye dear,” she said as I left for work today.

“Oh, I’m ‘dear’ now?” I was a little surprised; we haven't used those kinds of endearments with each other for a while.

She smiled. “You’ve always been ‘dear’.”

Winding Down

2009-06-15T00:14:00.000-04:00

My long weekend is over. Four days off, you'd think I'd have gotten more rest. Nope!

Beth had her gastric bypass last week, which was more nerve-wracking for me than it was for her, I think!. She came through it without a hiccup though and all is well. Thursday she was still in Grand Rapids recuperating and was lonely, so I went up there and we had a sleepover in her hospital room. Thankfully they released her early Friday and she was able to come home and get some real rest in her own bed. And see her kitties, who missed her terribly (and she them).

Saturday was HAVEN again. Seven hours inundated with images and discussion of sexual assault and child abuse. It's hard to talk about the HAVEN experience and really convey what it's like because the stuff we're dealing with, by necessity, is not "fun", and yet I find being there a profoundly positive experience. Edited: I had more here in this space, but it's not something I can summarize easily, so I'll be coming back to it at a later time.

Anyway, Sunday was a lazy day. I did go 'round Matt's for a while and sifted through some of the junk I had in storage there. I found the silver hoop earrings my parents gave me two Christmases ago - the first decidedly female gift I ever received from them - and was overjoyed, as I thought them lost forever. Tomorrow is work again. Bleh.

Comfort Zones

2009-05-27T00:30:00.000-04:00

One of the many things Christianne and I talked about last week was the notion of "comfort zones", and how it applies to the transitioning woman. And now, for completely unrelated reasons, Liz and I had a very similar conversation.

It's funny because as transitioners, you'd think we'd be adept at coping with change. Even embrace it, perhaps. But so many of us are exactly the opposite. We talk about the "new life" that awaits us and yet we cling desperately to the vestiges of the old.

That was my plan, too, so it's not exactly like I'm casting stones free of sin. I was going to build a nice little sanctuary full of familiar and forgiving things...a place I could retreat to when the hard cold world came crashing down on me. But then some other things happened that I had no control over.

Like being transferred to one of the more disreputable stores in the chain of stores I work for. A place with a history of trouble. A place I was afraid to set foot in. The same place now I can't walk ten feet into without at least one team member - and quite often several - approaching me to say "good morning", or give me a hug, or discuss shopping, or to show me pictures of their kids, or to talk about some work problem they have because I'm the one they "can trust". Where the managers thank me every day for the work I do, even though most of the time I'm there to nag them. Where the customers stop me to complain about something we don't have in stock, and end up referring me to the doctor across the street because he's cute. Where we women sit around and complain about boys, or life, or whatever is on our minds, and we realize that sometimes we have more in common than not. The hard cold world I imagined never materialized.

So now when I go somewhere - and maybe I feel a little nervous because it's a rundown BP in southern Kentucky and there's a gang of boys hanging around the counter drinking coffee (because that's what they do in southern Kentucky, apparently) but I have to go to the bathroom soooooooo bad - if I have even a fleeting moment of doubt, I can honestly tell myself it's nothing compared to what I've already faced and conquered. And it girds me every time.

And I think perhaps that's the one piece of advice I can give other transitioning women: Don't be afraid to step outside your box. I'm not saying be stupid. And I'm not saying give up everything (I certainly didn't). But do seek out new things. Surround yourself with strangers. Find comfort in the adventure that is life.

Fear is no reason not to do something.

BFF

2009-05-24T18:22:00.000-04:00

"You should friend Christianne. She likes horror movies too. I think you'd get along."

Those were Ronnie Rho's sage words - or something close to them, anyway - back in December of 2005. It's funny because I don't think of "understated" when I think of Ronnie, but that was the case this time.

Back then, I was struggling. My gender confusion was peaking and I felt isolated and freakish. I knew there were others like me, I just had to find them. URNA led me to Yahoo 360, and it was there that I really made my first, faltering steps into the community.

And whatever else it did for me, good or bad, it gave me Christianne. We were friends quickly, despite the fact that I never believed you could ever make real friends over Yahoo IM, and as I falteringly came to terms with who I am and where I had to go, she was there for me. She always made me feel normal and not alone. The big sister I never had, she guided me, confided in me, and occasionally picked me up off the ground and dusted me off.

Which was hard, of course, since she lives half a country away.

So imagine my surprise when she showed up on my doorstep a little more than a week ago!

Just kidding. We'd actually been planning the event for a couple months, and in some ways, for a couple years. Still it felt BIG for her to be here. To actually see her. To actually hug her. It was BIG.

For five days we played games, cooked, watched movies, did touristy things, and talked. She met my other best friends - Beth, Matt, and Angela. Oh, and Loki and Sable, my two furkids. And I met her wonderful girlfriend. For a little while, we shared our lives.

But it wasn't nearly enough time. There are still so many games to play, so many movies to watch, and so many foods to sample.

I'm sure I'll open about more later, as much was discussed and much was learned, but for now we have this:

Back To Work

2009-05-10T10:00:00.000-04:00

It's 10:02 am and I'm killing time before heading out the door. Today is a work day, sadly.

It wouldn't be so bad except that Saturday, my one day off, was such a bust. I had a date, but it was a complete non-starter (note to prospective suitors: on a first date - or pretty much any date - don't spend the first fifteen minutes of it playing Facebook games. Unless it's the one that I'm helping to design). I called it quits early and fortunately, my good friends Christianne, Liz, Matt, and Christy were around to help lift my spirits.

I did get a lot of cleaning done, though! In four days Christianne and her girlfriend will be here and I want the place to look somewhat presentable. I can't wait!

Anyway, I've killed the requisite amount of time and now I'm off. Don't forget to call your mothers today!

We'll always have Paris.

2009-05-05T22:18:00.000-04:00

(An open letter to Jennifer and Jason)

Hey you newlyweds!

Right now you're in the Keys, enjoying your honeymoon. I bet it's amazing! You deserve it to be.

The wedding was wonderful. I know I've told you that a hundred times, but it really was. I've been to a few, and this was easily the most memorable. The rain held off, the food was good, people enjoyed themselves, and even the dogs were well-mannered. I hope you had as much fun as I - and by the looks of it, everyone else - did. It was a rare kind of celebration.

I don't know that I've ever seen a bride as beautiful, and Jason...well Jason has become the man his youth promised he would be. I'm sad I missed so many of those intervening years, but I was glad to be there this weekend. I want to say you are both amazingly lucky to have found each other, but that doesn't do either of you justice. It was all skill, I'm pretty sure. :-)

The entire weekend was incredible. Thank you for sharing your lives and family and friends with me. I wish I had a gift for you that is equal to the one you have given, but sadly, I doubt that such a thing exists.

All My Love,
Renee

The Drive Home

2009-04-29T19:49:00.000-04:00

Driving home tonight, I was talking to my friend Angela. She and I don't talk as much as we used to...usually only when she has some tragedy she needs to unload. It's a little sad, actually.

Anyway, tonight wasn't any different, really. She had some drama to extol and because it was work stuff, and I used to do her job, I could empathize. Eventually we wore the topic out, at which point she asked, "So what's up with you?"

"Oh nothing," I replied. Then I thought about it a bit. "No, that's a lie. There's a lot up actually. I'm going to Memphis this weekend for an old college friend's wedding. And two weekends from now Christianne is coming into town and that's going to be a blast. Then in June I start my training at Haven."

And it turns out I hadn't mentioned any of these things to her before now. So we talked about each and afterward she says to me, "You sound really happy lately. You didn't for a long time, but you do now."

And you know, I am happy. Really really happy. And I feel especially happy that she noticed.

Why?

2009-04-21T20:45:00.000-04:00

When I was eleven years old, I would sneak off to my bedroom and put on my mom's wedding dress. And for hours I would contentedly play, imagining my own wedding. I'd giggle with my make-believe bridesmaids, walk down the aisle with my father, and look out over my guests (comprised mostly of stuffed animals and assorted other toys).

And I would imagine saying my made-up vows to my handsome (to me anyway) fiance, envision him putting a ring on my finger, hear him say the words "I do", and swoon a little when he eventually kissed me in front of everyone (my toys were all very impressed, I must say).

Then I'd change into something summery and I'd play out the honeymoon. Well, as much as I could...I was too young and naive to know what "consummation" was. And it was hard to act out being carried over the threshold by yourself.

***

Almost 24 years later I woke up to find myself in a nightmare. The person I was married to was a woman. I couldn't figure out what had happened. Where was the man I'd dreamed about as a child? The man who put the ring on my figure and said "I do" and then kissed me? A horrible, horrible mistake had been made and I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was wrong. None of this belonged. I cried a lot.

***

I can't say I know exactly what the wives of trans-women go through, but I feel like I have some idea.

So Far Away...

2009-04-16T23:29:00.000-04:00

I stumbled upon a blog tonight that resonated. One partial quote really grabbed me:

...it shows the glorious freedom I know in finally being able to live authentically.

I've seen that line a million times...it's the mantra of the transgendered community, after all.

Except the blog I pulled it from belongs to the spouse - and soon to be ex-spouse - of a transsexual, and what she's referencing is the joy she feels finally being out from under the onus of her partner's transition.

There's a lesson to be learned here.

Candle, Lit

2009-04-16T19:53:00.000-04:00

Christianne says everything that's on my mind, and perfectly.

HAVEN

2009-04-10T21:03:00.000-04:00

In this post, I alluded to some exciting things going on in my life.

Well, one of those exciting things was interviewing with HAVEN for a volunteer position. Specifically, as a "first responder"...someone who goes to hospitals or police stations to be with and support survivors of domestic violence or sexual assault as they work through their individual processes. It took a couple weeks, with background and reference checks, and no doubt weighing the quality of my answers from the interview, but today I received a congratulatory e-mail.

Even so there's no guarantee I'll ever take a call as a HAVEN representative. I've made it through the first interview and been accepted into their training program, but I'll need to complete that and pass an exit interview before graduating to volunteer status. And even then I'll be working with other responders, observing and eventually assisting, for an indefinite amount of time, until they feel I'm ready to take calls on my own.

I'll probably write more about what compels me to do this in a future blog. For now I'll just say it was an amazing bit of synchronicity that led me to discover HAVEN, and the work they do is something I've felt strongly about dating back to some experiences I had in college. I expect it to be a challenge, but in a good way (and for the near future, I shouldn't be complaining about my life needing extra meaningfulness).

Self-Fulfilling Prophetess

2009-04-06T23:51:00.000-04:00

I had dinner with a friend tonight. Good company. Good food.

Good conversation?

Questionable on my end.

These days, it seems like the only thing I have to gab about is being trans. Which I guess is fine; it's something I have strong opinions about, and I'm good at articulating them. And I don't think it's that people are necessarily bored by it...stories of transsexualism certainly don't lack for drama. But still...

...I need something more.

So while I'm looking for that, I'll just post this.

Blipping

2009-03-27T00:32:00.000-04:00

This is me eating crow and admitting how wrong I was.

Blip.fm is awesome. It's Twitter with a soundtrack.

It's all Christianne's fault, btw.

Yesterday

2009-03-25T00:06:00.000-04:00

The bankruptcy hearing went well enough, I guess. We won't know anything for a while, but at least we had our paperwork in order and could answer the trustee's questions with clarity. Now we wait.

This evening I've been entertaining a mishmash of thoughts and feelings. And that's where I'll leave that for the time being.

Today

2009-03-24T12:39:00.000-04:00

Today is our bankruptcy hearing. Liz asked me if I was nervous and I said I wasn't, but then I went and took a shower and it kicked in a little. I've never been one to have test anxiety or anything like that; at a certain point, you've either prepared or you haven't, and there's no sense worrying about it. We've done the work we were supposed to do for this test, but still, we really need to pass it.

And because I haven't mentioned it yet, I will now: Beth started a new job yesterday. It's a teaching gig, part-time, to go along with her other part-time teaching job. It's what she wants to do, and eventually fulltime positions will open up that she can compete for, so that's a good thing. I'm happy for her, though she's not digging the 5 AM wake-up she has to endure this first week.

Later this week I have some exciting things going on. That's all I'll say about that for now.

Working Saturday

2009-03-22T00:48:00.000-04:00

(Before telling this story, I want to recollect this post from not too long ago, and this post from earlier today by my friend Keri. Both are essential to understanding where my head is at currently.)

When people meet me for the first time, a certain conversation usually ensues:

Them: "So how tall are you?"

Me: "Six-foot-six."

Them: "Oh wow, did you play basketball."

Me: "Yes, a little."

Them: "I bet you never have trouble reaching the tops of shelves."

Me: "No, not usually."

Them: "I always wanted to be taller."

Me: "I'll split the difference with you!"

Them: "So is your husband tall too?"

Okay, so that last line was new today.

Promises

2009-03-18T20:28:00.000-04:00

Today was the seven-month anniversary of my transition at work, synonymous with the start of my Real Life Experience. It's an insignificant anniversary; six-months was the halfway point of RLE and that's when I should have blogged, but I completely forgot about it. I would have neglected this one too had I not been actively looking for something to blog about.

But I haven't done a transition update in a while, so now's as good a time as any.

Five months ago, I speculated idly about whether I would eventually hit a wall. The Christine Daniels/Mike Penner thing was new, and although I was certain I had found my place in the world, it occurred to me that at two months in, Christine probably felt the same. I wonder what Christine was thinking at the seven month mark? At what point for her did the reality not live up to the promise? And what specifically did that look like?

For my part, things aren't going fast enough. Life has a momentum of its own, and my transition isn't keeping up. Opportunities have presented themselves - meaningful things I want to be a part of - but rather than just step up to them, I have to navigate the nasty obstacle of being one gender and having legal documentation that says something else. I no longer wonder if I'm going to walk the next few steps of my transition, just how.

Even so, life is good. Even amidst chaos and uncertainty, it's good. On Monday, the first day that really felt like Spring to me, I walked through the parking lot at work, the warm breeze tousling my hair; I breathed deeply and slowed my pace a step or two. Lori said to me the other night, "The view from the other side better be fantastic." I couldn't say it would be for her, but for me...well, I sometimes get lost in the vista. Lost enough that I didn't see the halfway point when I crossed it.

Catching Up

2009-03-16T00:58:00.000-04:00

I haven't done a life-update in a while...

Beth is doing okay. Her leg is feeling better and we're hoping that means the blood thinners are doing their job. She has a sinus infection which has probably turned into strep throat...not fun, but fairly typical for her this time of year. Fortunately, she just finished up her part-time teaching gig for this semester and is now using the downtime to get healthy. On the work front, she has some applications out there and an interview on Wednesday. Hopefully her throat feels better by then.

As for me, there's not much to tell just now. I had a sinus infection last week and I'm still a bit congested, but at least it wasn't strep. I have other things on my mind, but those are for other blogs at other times.

Publicity

2009-03-14T00:32:00.000-04:00

Just a couple things to tide you over while I work up a larger update for later this weekend:

Part one...

...and part two.

Afterwards

2009-03-05T19:56:00.000-05:00

The big speaking engagement has come and gone.

It was a lot of fun! I couldn't have asked for a more warm, welcoming environment. The faculty at Oakland is a delight and the students were, as always, enthusiastic. I had a small cheering section of personal friends too...Beth, my dear friend Lora, and co-workers Rob and Kurt. Rob is actually responsible for connecting me with the University and the people there are starting to refer to him as my agent...

I kind of love that that joke exists. I love the idea that I have this relationship with this university, and these people. They're great people. Too bad events had conspired against me last spring, because I'm really enjoying these opportunities and it frustrates that one slipped away.

(I do need to polish up my act a bit. In a more intimate setting I can get away with a casual approach, but this was bigger than anyone expected - extra seating was brought in, and even then, some people had to stand. I've already been invited back next fall, and since I hope to continue doing public outreach like this on into the future, my plan is to get better.)

(Which may actually mean doing some voicework, egads!)

Afterwards, I spoke with some of the students and faculty. One shared a personal story that was touching, if heart-wrenching. Another took pictures for a campus periodical. I was given a nice gift bag with chocolate and Oakland University swag! I hugged a lot of people.

And I discovered, to my surprise, that the university was struggling to get gender identity non-discrimination included in its bylaws (or whatever they call their set of policies). I've been to the campus on multiple occasions and have never been anything but impressed with the treatment I've received. I've used their restrooms without incident. I was introduced to and had a short, but pleasant, conversation with one of the Deans. It struck me as unbelievable that a student there could not count on the same. A petition circulated at the event, and the good turnout meant lots of signatures were collected. I wish now there had been even more.

Making A List

2009-03-04T08:54:00.000-05:00

Oakland University's "theme" for this year's Women's History Month is Love and Sex. In keeping with that, I've decided that tomorrow's presentation will be a primer on How to Have a Relationship With a Transwoman.

Not necessarily a romantic relationship, mind you, but any relationship. The idea is that if you're a friend, brother, sister, parent, child, spouse, co-worker, or lover of a transsexual, there are things you should probably know.

Of course, I have a list:

Get the pronouns right (even when they're not around).
Refer to them by their preferred name (even when they're not around).
Do not refer to them (or any transwoman) as "tranny".
Do not call attention to their transness unnecessarily...it only makes them feel "different".
Do not tell them how lucky they are to "know the best of both worlds".
Do not tell them how handsome they looked as a man.
Do not ask them about their surgical status (close friends are likely exempted).
Do not change your level of involvement with them...keep inviting them to parties (thanks C!).
Do not out them if you can help it...if you think someone needs to be "warned", there's a problem somewhere.
Encourage them to seek professional help, if they have not already.
Get a copy of True Selves. Read it.
Do not expect them to be perfect...they need space to make mistakes.
Be patient...they're going to be insecure and needy for a while.
Do stick up for them.
Be encouraging, but don't coddle them.
Don't go overboard with the affirmation...treat them like you do your other female friends.
Do not ask them to "boy" it up for special occasions. No matter what the occasion.
Be comfortable with yourself...people are going to be looking at you.
Have someone you can talk to...you are in transition as well.
It's natural to grieve, but remember, your friend hasn't died.
Be aware of your own needs and make time for yourself...you can't be their only friend.

As you can see, the focus is on the early transitioner - maybe someone who has just recently come out as trans - although I think a good deal of it applies to non-transitioning transwomen of all stripes. I'm trying to keep it practical; I don't want to tell people what to think. But I'm no expert...just a person with a lot of anecdotal evidence. This is about all of us, so leave me feeback...tell me what you think everyone out there should know.

The Peanut Gallery

2009-03-03T00:20:00.000-05:00

I was at a friend's house this weekend, playing games and whatnot. It was my friend and his wife and another couple I had never met before.

Everyone was super-nice and I was enjoying myself, except that the male half of the second couple was dropping hes on me throughout the night. At first I made a slight joke at his expense and hoped he'd get the hint. He didn't. Two more slip-ups and I sort of blew up.

"I left that pronoun behind a long time ago," I told him without any humor at all.

It was embarrassing for him; I think he knew better and just didn't realize what his lips were saying. It was embarrassing for me too, and perhaps a little uncomfortable for everyone else, but it had to be done. I'm getting better at sticking up for myself.

But it doesn't change one truth: Something about me, and it could be a lot of things, triggered he instead of her in his primal brain. If I accept the good feedback from earlier in the week, I have to accept this too, although I'm not sure what to do with it just yet.

Worst. Week. Ever.

2009-02-27T22:04:00.000-05:00

As if things weren't bad enough already, today Beth was diagnosed with a pair of bloodclots in one leg. She'd been feeling pain for some time and even had had the test run once before. It was negative then, but the pain persisted, and today they showed up on the scan.

Needless to say, I'm terrified.

Oh, and we're completely uninsured until April 1rst.

Anecdote, Update

2009-02-25T22:21:00.000-05:00

Yesterday Beth and I filed our bankruptcy papers.

We met with an attorney neither of us had dealt with before. She was a young woman - seemingly too young to be a lawyer - and very nice. After some idle chitchat, she set about asking questions; nothing too exciting, just basic stuff she would need to know about any client.

Not long into it, she asked Beth if she was married. Beth laughed a little and looked at me. I affected something I imagine to be a smirk. The unbelievably young-looking lawyer's eyes flitted from Beth to me and then back to Beth.

"What did I say?" She seemed confused. "Is there something I should know?"

"Well, just that I am her spouse," I said.

The woman looked down at her paper, presumably readying to ask another question. Then she looked back up at the two of us, at a loss for words.

"Ummmm...I..., "She stammered, "it's just that I didn't think Michigan had passed those laws yet."

*****

That moment aside, Tuesday was a long and stressful day. The good news is that Beth and I both feel somewhat more emboldened. Family and friends have circled our wagon, our bankruptcy has finally been filed, and she's already lining up job interviews. I hesitate to say anything more for fear of jinxing us, but "cautious optimism" describes the demeanor around here just now.

Thanks to all of you who have sent good vibes our way. It's very much appreciated.

Watch Out For The Shoggoths!

2009-02-24T22:25:00.000-05:00

Mountain range discovered beneath Antarctic Ice. Madness surely ensues...

Just Asking

2009-02-24T00:29:00.000-05:00

I guess I spoke too soon.

An unusual turn of events means that my roomie/spouse is now looking for a new job. She's eminently employable, even in the current recession, and even in Michigan, but it means that everything is in disarray now. The bankruptcy is still on - we meet with our attorney in the morning - but the rest is in flux. The divorce won't be happening any time soon, since I'll be carrying the insurance coverage until she gets back on her feet, and everything else seems inconsequential in light of the massive streamlining both our lives will have to undergo for the forseeable future.

Beth is the nicest person I know, with the worst kind of luck. Non-stop for the past three years she's been dealing with near crippling back pain (a herniated disc that required surgery...and still isn't fixed); shyster realtors, builders, and land appraisers who literally cost us tens of thousands of dollars while she sought to build a little ramshackle home that was nonetheless totally her own; foreclosure on that self-same house a year later; bankruptcy and ruined credit (even though she had never missed a payment on anything until the value of that home bottomed out at exactly the same time our ARM expired; and now this.

It's been a long three years; she deserves a break.

New Trick

2009-02-23T00:17:00.000-05:00

Turns out if I put my hair in pigtails while it's still slightly damp and finish drying it that way, it looks fantastic after I take it down again. It swings forward and wraps under my chin just like I always wanted it to. I was so happy, I immediately found Liz on YIM and told her about it.

"Oh, yes! I learned that in high school ," was her response.

High school huh? Second adolescence indeed.

Unthinkable

2009-02-21T01:35:00.000-05:00

So today at work I was chatting with one of the store detectives I share office space with (in fact, it was the same one from this story). He was telling me about his band, and half-jokingly I asked, "Any cute bandmates that need a girlfriend?" Half-seriously, he threw out a couple names.

"Really," I said, "you think they'd be interested? I mean, with the trans thing and all?"

Without pause he shot back: "Why tell them right away?"

The B Word

2009-02-18T20:25:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow morning I'll get up and Beth and I will speak to a financial counselor. Then sometime next week - or maybe even Friday morning if we're lucky - we'll meet with our lawyer and barring further unforeseen hurdles, we'll file for bankruptcy. The last year has been miserable as we've jumped through the necessary hoops and it'll be a welcome relief.

Of course it still has to be judged in our favor and everything, but right now just having the lawyer tell us we can finally move forward seems like a major victory.

After the bankruptcy comes the long forestalled divorce. It should be quick and easy considering how amicable we are, but still I expect a little bitter with the sweet. I can already taste it, in fact.

Then my legal name change. Nothing pyrrhic about that...I can't wait. I would do it sooner, but out of respect to Beth, this way she'll never have to explain how she was legally married to a "Renee" if she doesn't want to.

Seems as though this year is going to be spent in and out of courtrooms for me.

Yay!

2009-02-15T21:18:00.000-05:00

Click Here

Tres cool, no?

My Bloody Valentine

2009-02-15T02:11:00.000-05:00

For someone who has been pretty lonely of late, I've made the rejection of potential love interests a kind of cottage industry. It didn't occur to me until just now, but my body count gives Jason Voorhees a run for his money. Some of them - the fetishists, the pervs, and the ones who really don't know themselves - obviously needed to go. Others - like the guy I met online earlier this week - said and did everything right and were really really into me, but for whatever reason, it just didn't click on my side of things.

Or maybe I didn't give "it" enough of a chance?

I didn't get to where I am through patience or compromise. I want what I want, and I want it yesterday. But now I find myself here on Valentine's Day, alone and wondering just how many shots at something real I'm going to get.

Cheryl's Blog

2009-02-10T09:17:00.000-05:00

(In this post, I talk about meeting up with secret reader and new friend Cheryl. Below is Cheryl's account of that meeting and, well, whatever else she decided to write about...I haven't read it yet either. Enjoy)

I’d like to thank Renee for the chance to guest post on her blog. I feel honored for the chance to make an entry on one of the blogs that has brought such meaningful discussion to Trans life. I’d also like to thank her for a wonderful time together. Renee’s pictures do not do her justice; she is absolutely beautiful in person, just stunning. She’s beyond pretty, in person her beauty just radiates. It has truly been a very long time since I’ve had a discussion with someone so articulate, intelligent, and conversational.

So, as far as lurker, guilty as charged, to a point. Cat owners know that when life around people gets to be more hectic than they can stand, you can usually find the cat under the bed or other furniture. I find myself more kitty than lurker. There is a difference. Lurkers just sit and read, then move on with their lives. Kitties, on the other hand and with a lack of a better term, pay attention to all around them, but will poke a paw out from under the bed when they feel it’s important. I consider myself more kitty than lurker. Renee was asked to present before an event at one of the more prestigious colleges in town and sounded a little intimidated by the prospect. After reading so many posts where she poured her inner-most thoughts out for public display, I couldn’t sit by idly. Hence, the thread, and eventual meeting.

So, why would I be reading TG blogs, you ask. I am TG, and TG for over 40 (no real age….come on) years. Today I present as male, but 15 years ago I transitioned. The HRT, the coming out to close friends, and as I started to carry on the HBS with the real life test, I detransitioned. Why? Two reasons. One, my father became more frail, and depended on me more and more, and I married my soul mate some years before. My father continued to decline, and following assisted living and skilled nursing died in March of ’08. My spouse has been understanding, with more on that later. The effects of the transition are still there, I can still fill a “B” cup, (but currently keep a substantial beer gut to level it out) and live a fairly androgynous life. The spouse shops in the women’s department for both of us, and when I feel “femmy” I switch genders for a day or two.

So, I’m sure you’re wondering, why did I stop…

Renee and I came to an agreement early, (she’s so cool) that transition is a choice. So many websites and blogs make transition out to be a TG mandate. Transition, however, is not a solitary process. As an ardent existentialist, (To quote Wiki, “In existentialism, the individual's starting point is characterized by what has been called "the existential attitude," or a sense of disorientation and confusion in the face of an apparently meaningless or absurd world.” Look familiar, looks like your average TG life, don’t you think?) I knew my life was a product of MY decisions, and to think that my decisions would not affect the lives of others was bad faith (Sartre, look in Wiki or Google Sartre). Renee and I agreed that transition is a choice, not a mandate. Where we parted agreement was the concept of soul mate. I have been married to the same GG for 29 years (I married REAL young, ok…) I see so many TG blogs where the topic is loneliness and the desire to find someone to love. My spouse accepted my transness decades ago, but can’t bear the loss of her “man” and will spend time with her best “girlfriend”. My spouse is my soul mate. I could spend several lines about the concept, but read blogs like Trans-Married and you’ll begin to see the point. I couldn’t add to the stress of my father during his discovery of his loss of independence and mortality as well, hence the detransition.

So, the kitty sits under the bed. Reading every transgender blog out there, and double-checking T-Central every day to make sure I don’t miss anything. My life? A wild-ass ride from the right brain to the left brain with a slow return to the right side. The time with Renee, I barely had time to tell the highlights. If I died tomorrow, almost no regrets. (No “my day” in a wedding gown, should have partied more with John Waite in New Orleans, etc…)

If there’s a point to this, bloggers…

Thank you for bringing your lives to all of us. When I transitioned, there was no widespread blogging, no internet outlet for those struggling to live an authentic life. (When I transitioned, there were no psychologists who handled gender issues in the Detroit area. Think what you will now, (Another guest blog topic) but then, Detroit was the 5^th largest area in the US. I ended up with a social worker who tried hard, but was clueless. One cross dresser group, who had no time for TG’s, the other TG group I found had two members….Me and the founder. (Wow, aren’t you waiting for the walking 5 miles to school each day, uphill, speech…) A lot has changed since I tried to transition.

And…

Bloggers should NEVER forget the activism they bring to the table. I read blogs from Australia, to all the US, to the UK and more. Your work means SO much to all those who sit, painfully alone, looking for some stream of validation, some word, that they’re not the only person who’s brain doesn’t match the mirror.

Lurkers (especially you kitties)…

Sneak out from under the bed once in a while and at least thank the bloggers who through their soul-bearing give your life some sense of understanding and meaning. No one is asking you to walk through the main street in town dressed like a sexual professional (like that… ), just remember that people have died because of this, and we need to care about each other as a group. So, say thank you once in a while.

So…

IF… the beautiful and vivacious Renee turns me loose on her blog again, I’ll tell you about the wild ride, the left/right brain life changes and the Entertainment Tonight details of my wild life….Otherwise, live authentically, reach out to your Trans brothers and sisters, and remember that no amount of surgery will bring you to Maslow’s Self-Actualization unless you’re already there….(OK… I can hear it now…she just ain’t right…)

Smooches, Cheryl

Wading In

2009-02-08T23:29:00.000-05:00

Astute readers will recall that about a week ago I began my first real foray into the world of online dating, via OkCupid. And last night I went on my first date.

I enjoyed myself. We met at a local bar and grill and for my part, I found him quite charming and fun. Over dinner and drinks, we kept a steady conversation going; if anything, we talked too readily and comfortably...like old friends. And if I seem less than enthusiastic it's because our parting of ways was slightly awkward; I don't think either of us knew what wavelength the other was on and an appropriate goodbye just didn't manifest.

Not very exciting in print, I realize.

Not So Random Encounter

2009-02-06T20:08:00.000-05:00

I often wonder who reads my blog. I don't mean the ones who leave comments - although I often wonder about you guys too - but about the unseen folk who come and go in the background. The lurkers, as they are sometimes referred to. And I'd pretty much convinced myself that those people don't exist in my blogspace.

A couple posts back I was proven wrong, as one of those hypothetical souls reached out to say hi, and to offer me encouragement and public-speaking advice. We carried the conversation over into e- mail and arranged to meet at the Starbucks in my place of emplyment, where we discussed my life, her life, and...well, my life and her life pretty much cover everything so I guess that's it!

Her name is Cheryl, and she proved wonderful company. Cheerful, full of smiles and laughter...dare I use the word precocious to describe her? I'll go with ebullient...or better yet, my favorite new adjective, sanguine. I hope there will be future talks over Vanilla Bean Frappacinos, or other similarly themed coffee products, in our future.

Cheryl has a great story. I hope someday she'll be able to share it with us. Until then, just know that she's taking in our stories - she knows you all by name - and while she can't always say so, she laughs and cries along with all of us.

Change

2009-01-31T21:15:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you're restless; you need a change - something drastic -but what you want is outside your grasp. So instead you get your hair colored (black!), take some pictures, and post a profile at a new dating site.

Except that I joined the dating site first and then got my hair colored, but why fret over details? I mean, I made the hair appointment early last week, so that counts!

Anyway, my most recent foray into the world of internet dating has yielded some, ahem, interesting data. At the prompting of one friend and a suggestion from another, I opted for a more mainstream site. I was dubious, but the near-constant activity on my profile far exceeds what I saw at the trans-specific sites. Some of them have even been kind of nice. Will I find Mister Right out there in the world of pixels and binary? I have a healthy amount of skepticism, but something's got to change.

On an unrelated note, I think I missed my calling as a goth chick. What do you think, is it too late for me?

New Opportunities

2009-01-28T14:18:00.000-05:00

I received an e-mail this morning from the director of the LGBTQA Center at Oakland University, inviting me to participate in this year's Women's History Month celebration. Apparently, she was in the audience last November, when I spoke to a Sociology of Gender class at OU, and, well, was impressed enough to invite me to this much larger forum. I'm trying to guess now which face was hers...I think I may know...

I'm more than thrilled about this development. Those outside the state wouldn't necessarily know, but Oakland University is a well-respected Michigan institution - arguably the most well-respected in the Metro-Detroit area - so to be invited to this event, at a time when they are working to add gender identity and expression to their non-discrimination policy, is a tremendous honor and privilege. That it's attached to Women's History Month is even better; it's a level of inclusion I've only ever dreamt about and I can't stop smiling.

I'm not a practiced public-speaker (someone else will have to be the judge of any natural aptitude I may or may not have), but it's a kind of activism that really appeals to me. We all have things that call to us, and this does to me. I love people, and I love talking to them about this stuff. Hopefully the future holds many such opportunities.

Oh, March 5th is the day!

Look into my eyes...

2009-01-24T16:16:00.000-05:00

You know how sometimes things go in streaks? Well in the last two weeks, I've had four or five people tell me how lucky I am to "have the best of both worlds." Even my therapist broke out the ol' chestnut, annotating something I said with, "great observation, and one only possible from the transsexual perspective."

My response to him was pretty much the same as to the others: "If it's so great, you can have it...I don't want it."

And I don't. It's not so much that I mind being so amazingly perceptive and empathetic, except:

1) It's not really true. It never has been and it's becoming less so as time goes on.
2) Even when couched in the nicest possible terms, it's still used to separate me from other women.

A friend yesterday suggested hypnotism as a way to forget I was ever a boy. Talking to Christianne today, I realized I wasn't the one who needed the hypnotist...it's every single other person I come into contact with.

So I guess I know what new hobby I'll be taking up, just as soon as the secret project I'm working on is complete.

A Conversation

2009-01-16T19:58:00.001-05:00

Scene: My boss and I, chatting about restroom privileges and whatnot.

Me: So, there's this campaign ad in Florida...this creepy dude sneaking into a women's restroom after a little girl.

My Boss: I haven't seen it, but I read about it.

Me: I thought about sending you the link. I think it's educational, shows what we're up against. (pause) Well, what I'm up against.

My Boss: Oh, we're all up against it, whether we realize it or not.

Going Native

2009-01-11T14:49:00.000-05:00

I technically work in retail loss prevention, so as you can imagine, I share office space with a lot of men. In fact, I'll go so far as to call them boys, because some of them aren't even old enough to drink. They're all good people, but on certain days, there's a lot of machismo on display.

One day, maybe two weeks ago, I was talking with another woman when one of the guys bombed into our conversation with something so ridiculous and crass it immediately provoked reaction. "How can you think that way," I asked; "I mean seriously, how can thoughts like that even enter into your brain?"

A few moments later though, while he searched for an answer, it clicked: Oh yeah...now I remember. I smiled a little then, not at the memory, but at my own forgetfulness, and at the notion that maybe sometime in the future, I just won't remember at all.

Needless to say, I kept these particular thoughts safely snug in my own head.

Encounter

2009-01-08T01:27:00.000-05:00

You know why the concepts of "passing" and "stealth" don't work for me, at least in part? Because when you don't achieve them, it implies a failure on your part. Seems obvious, but until now I haven't been able to articulate the idea properly.

Allow me to illustrate:

Today at work I was approached by three young men. They needed help finding something in the store, and I was more than happy to assist. But my voice is a big tell and after about two sentences, the two boys who weren't directly engaged with me took off down an empty aisle. As soon as they were out of sight, I heard the peels of laughter echo back at me.

And boy did it bother me.

The feelings were instantly familiar. Typically, when something like this happens, I get upset. Upset with myself, because obviously I wasn't good enough or successful enough in my presentation to curb their horrible behavior.

This was different. I was still upset, but this time I didn't wish I was shorter or skinner or more naturally female-sounding. Instead, I was upset with them for not having the education or maturity or compassion necessary to negotiate the situation, and what I wished for was more of all those things.

And you know what? It was easier to let go of. So easy, in fact, that I sat here for hours tonight trying to think of something to write about, and this only just came back to me after midnight, long after I should have been in bed.

I guess the next step is to work on not getting upset at all, but to be honest, I'm not sure I want to let go of it. I think there are good things to get upset about in this world, and the callous ways that people deal with each other would certainly be one of them.

Anyway, the point being, if someone treats you as less than human, it's not because you somehow failed to be human...it's because they did.

Birthday

2009-01-04T23:12:00.000-05:00

I got the "best" birthday present of all this year, and I gave it to myself: A triple-scoop of things I swore I would never do. On the plus side, "know yourself better" makes for a fine New Year's Resolution.

In other birthday news, I got The Black Goat of the Woods expansion for Arkham Horror. I like that.

People

2008-12-30T20:49:00.000-05:00

On any given workday, I probably answer questions for a dozen or more guests in our stores. It's one of the hidden pleasures of my job; it's not one of my specific responsibilities, so I don't get to do it often, but I love interacting with people. There's really two elements to it: On one hand, it's hugely validating for me to be accepted by these complete strangers, most of whom start out the conversation with an "excuse me ma'am..."; on the other, I seem to have grown to love people more, and I want to help them, talk to them, and give back to them. No doubt, the two are interconnected.

Anyway, today I was stopped by this kindly middle-aged woman who was trying to buy shoes for her grandchildren. The only problem is that she was confined to an electric wheelchair and couldn't actually help the two young children put the shoes on their feet. So I helped the kids pick out their shoes (the boy wanted black, the girl did not). Then I helped them wriggle their little feet into them, which they insisted on doing without untying the laces, of course! When they finally managed that, I made sure to pinch the toes just like my mom would always do. Satisfied their toes were properly aligned, I declared the shoe search a success!

And when we were done and the woman was putting the shoe boxes in her cart, she looked at me and smiled.

"You know," she said, "you're very pretty."

I must have blushed; I know I looked down at my feet.

"No really, you really are very pretty," she repeated.

I managed to thank her, and then for a few minutes more we talked about the New Year, and our soon-to-be new President. By the time we parted ways, I think I had regained my normal coloration.

Happy Family

2008-12-25T02:02:00.000-05:00

My family has a Christmas tradition (apart from always celebrating on Christmas Eve): When it comes to stockings, there are boy stockings and girl stockings; the boys get things like pocket knives and screwdrivers, the girls get things like perfume and candles, and never the twain shall meet. This year, for the first time, there was one less boy stocking, and one more girl stocking.

This year, the signature stuffer for the girls' was a nice piece of jewelry. Mine was a cute bracelet, my sisters and niece each got earrings. And as we passed them around to coo over each others' swag, I was totally conscious of the huge cheesy grin on my face. In the course of the night I must have told myself a thousand times, "You have the greatest family in the world", and at least a few of them came in those moments.

Beth would later say that she was surprised but proud of my family, especially my parents. That she couldn't believe how at ease my father was with my new name. That my mother sincerely seemed to enjoy shopping for one more daughter. And that everyone was so natural and matter-of-fact with me, despite very limited contact in the past year. I just smiled. It was nice of her to say, but I gave up being surprised by them a long time ago. They are, in fact, the greatest.

Note the cute bracelet :)

Work Update

2008-12-24T11:11:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I met with my supervisor and human resources liaisons to discuss the first few months of my workplace transition. It was a meeting I requested, so I wasn't too worried.

I had two speaking points:

1) The restroom situation - in which I am required to use the unisex restrooms at my stores - was both inconvenient in a practical sense and humiliating in a personal sense.

2) The last four months have been the happiest I've ever been.

I knew it would be difficult to give each of those the weight they deserved, since one seems to contradict the other. Fortunately, I've become pretty deft in discussing these issues. The message is simple really: That although my happiness is at an all-time high, it's still apples and oranges when compared to people who don't have arbitrary restrictions placed upon them. And while I don't expect change to happen quickly - or perhaps ever - the message returned to me was one of understanding.

Other things I learned: Others perceive my demeanor as more calm and assured, my stores are happy with my performance, my boss is very happy with my performance, my Human Resources director likes my taste in accessories, and it was a bad idea not to wear some kind of socks or hose on the day of small blizzard.

Listen!

2008-12-19T01:37:00.000-05:00

You've probably seen it at Lori's blog already, but I have to post the link:

Go here and listen to the podcast Lori and I did together. And gird yourself because, wow, can we talk!

And apologies in advance for some of the sound quality...my mic just wasn't cutting the mustard that night.

The Plunge?

2008-12-17T21:20:00.000-05:00

I created a profile on an internet dating site the other day. I was afraid to do it - I didn't want to be "that person" - but my curiosity finally got the better of me.

When I decided to transition, I more or less made peace with the idea that I might be alone for the rest of my life. Alone isn't the worst thing after all.

But still there's that nagging question, "What if I don't have to be?"

I recognize the obstacles. When I tell others about my (self-fulfilling?) prophesy, the typical response is always, "There's someone out there for everyone."

It's a nice thing to say, but it's conveniently hetero-normative. It's easy to believe in something like "soulmates" when your dating pool is made up of half the world's population, but when you're part of the queer minority, the odds just aren't on your side.

It would be easier if I were attracted to other trans-women. At least then I'd have a built-in vehicle to meet potential partners. But alas, I seem to be a little boy-crazy.

And boys create all sorts of havoc for me, or at least my mind. For starters, I'm 6'6" and definitely on the plus side. Large cis-women don't exactly have the pick of the litter, but throw in a penis and the fact that in a few years I'll (hopefully) have made some substantial changes...well, that's a lot to ask of anyone.

But still, the only certain way to fail is not to try.

To be honest, though, I just I don't know how to go about meeting men. In Chicago I was propositioned in mainstream bars and clubs, but I don't live in Chicago. I work in a grocery store - two of them actually - and while they're supposedly great places to meet people, any secret admirers I may have developed remain secret thus far. And I'm certainly not going to troll the local Saturday night trans-hangout...that seems like a recipe for disaster. So I guess it's the internet, for now anyway.

I'll let you know how it goes.

So I don't forget again...

2008-12-04T21:23:00.000-05:00

Earlier this evening, Liz was watching Hirsute and apparently there's a scene where the protagonist meets his future self and they discuss whether they should have sex or not. That lead us to the obligatory time travel talk...

Renee: of course, I would prolly have to tell past self to get on with the whole being a woman thing earlier than later, and that might solve everyone a lot of trouble.

khyri: What would be the best time to go back to for that?

Renee: well, the absolute best time to deal with all of this would have been when I was about 11.
Renee: when I was 11 or so, I was dressing up every day in my mother's wedding dress and pretending I was getting married to a handsome man

khyri: Awwww cute

Renee: I suppose it was
Renee: funny how I was totally open at that time to the idea of being with a guy, but as soon as puberty hit, I suppressed it for another twenty years or so

khyri: Sounds cute to me

Renee: I didn't even remember those play sessions until my second session of therapy, about two years ago
Renee: I hadn't exactly suppressed them I don't think, but it was something like that

khyri: wow

Renee: I miss them kind of
Renee: so yeah, I would like to go back and talk to that kid
Renee: tell him how really cool his parents would eventually be, and that there was no reason to be scared
Renee: omg, I'm tearing up...weird!

khyri: in a good way?

Renee: yeah
Renee: those are good memories
Renee: although, I am a little sad there wasn't someone there to tell me not to be scared

So Liz, how does your graph account for bittersweet?

Regular-Sad

2008-11-22T16:57:00.000-05:00

Last Friday I was sad. I mean really sad. Crying-all-night-long sad. Mostly it was a general malaise - a few tears running down my face - but occasionally the heaving, racking sobs would arrive and serve as punctuation, just in case I forgot that I was extremely upset.

Most of this I did in front of Beth. That should have been the first sign that something was different, because that's not my usual MO. But we were watching our shows on DVR and honestly, I wanted her company.

At one point she asked me if we were having a pity-party.

"No," I said, "I've just had a hard few days and I need to get it out. I'll be fine tomorrow."

It didn't occur me until that moment, though, that I hadn't felt that way in a long time. Don't get me wrong; I normally understand in some vague way that while I'm sad, the pain will eventually subside. But even so, in the moment, it's hard to think of anything but "woe is me." I mean I would go to my room and pretend I didn't want people around, and what I was really doing was trying to get attention. To have people notice me and notice that I was sad, and to say, "now, now, it's going to be okay." To have them share in my misery, as the old cliche goes. Quite literally, a pity party.

This was different. I didn't need someone to tell me it was going to be okay, because I already knew it would be. And I didn't need anyone to share in it, or to understand it, or fix it, or anything at all. I just needed to have a good cry.

Regular-sad, I'm dubbing it, as opposed to End-of-the-world-sad. And what a relief it is to have found it again.

Noise-To-Signal

2008-11-11T20:30:00.000-05:00

I posted these questions in my blast blog. For me, they represent a sampling of the doubts, worries, and questions that, prior to starting the RLE, constantly buzzed in my cranium, sometimes crowding out everything else. At three months in, I have some answers. Not all of them, of course. And I'm not saying I won't go back and change a few later. But at this moment, right here and now, I can at least hear myself think.

So this is what I've learned...

Will I "pass"? Will it matter? No, at least not all the time. And no, it doesn't...at least not all the time. Certainly, there are moments when a stranger gives me an odd look or maybe mumbles something under their breath, but for the most part, people are cool. I do wonder if they see me with an asterisk over my head, but if so, it's hard to tell (although, truth be told, men are a little more transparent in this regard).
Is my voice good enough? No, not at all. But I've muddled through for three months and people seem to adapt. Even so, I'm sick of the whole phone situation, so I'm working on it.
Will I still be able to perform my job duties? Will people at work still listen to what I have to say and take me seriously? Yes and yes. In fact, I've never had such good response to the work I've done. Maybe it's because I'm doing better work, or maybe it's because of my "celebrity status". Maybe it's both.
What's it like to get up every day and slather on makeup? Do my hair? Pull on my Spanx? When will the novelty wear off? Well, the shine was off this one before I even started. Having to wake up a full hour-and-a-half earlier than before was a shock to my system that I haven't completely recovered from (it doesn't sit well with my nite owl liftestyle). But, I'm also not sick of it yet either. It just is.
Will I get by if I don't look perfect on a given day? On those days I feel fat and ugly? Days like this are rough but yeah, I get by.
Will I still be jealous when a woman walks by wearing a great pair of shoes? Sporting a killer hair cut? Holding hands with her significant other? I'm always going to be jealous of women and their shoes. I wear a size 15 (womens), so this is a huge frustration for me. Thankfully, some designers are starting to get a clue. And yes, I do hope someday to be able to casually walk hand-in-hand with someone through a store or a park or whatever. As far as hair goes, not usually...I have better hair than most other women. ;)
Can I be happy? Will I dread tomorrow, or anticipate its arrival gladly? I've never been as happy for no particular reason at all. I just have a sort of enthusiasm for life that never registered before. And while I'm not always eager to crawl out of bed at 5 or 6 just to get to work by 8 or 9, I do actually look forward to the work itself. As I get better and find more success in my job, I appreciate its unique challenges more and more...it's been a long time since I did anything but avoid a challenge, and I forgot how invigorating it can be. Of course, one could say the bigger challenge was to confront my GID and that everything else pales in comparison, and they'd probably be right.
Will I always have to look over my shoulder? I don't know. Sometimes I find myself not looking over my shoulder, and then something horrible happens and it reminds us all how ugly the world can be.
Will I have to defend my identity every single day? Will I need to correct people about names, about pronouns, about "sir" all the time? Will it eventually wear me down? It doesn't happen every day, but it happens. Eventually people start to figure the rules out and it gets a little easier. It really helps if you have someone in your corner who'll do some of the policing for you...I happen to have several.
Is it all worth it if I never find love again? Yes. Like I said in a comment in the previous blog, if I don't find love this way, I was never going to find it at all.
Will I hit a wall (metaphorically speaking, of course)? Will there be days I want to go back? Not yet, and I can't imagine going back. But I'll bet Mike Penner said the same thing three months in.
Will I ever not stop in front of a mirror to make sure I look okay? I don't know. I do it less often than before, so maybe. :)
Will I drift away from the transgendered community? I was never close to my local community anyway, but I love the friends I've made online and I'm staunchly devoted to openly and honestly representing the trans-community everywhere I go. It would take an awful lot to make me change my mind about this one.
Will I be a bitch? Funny story: I was watching movies with some friends this past weekend, and at one point, one of them wouldn't stop talking while some important voiceover narration was happening. So I backed the DVD up and waited for silence, and then started it again. Halfway through the important narration the same friend started yakking again, so I paused the film and wordlessly shot him the look of death. Even so, it took him three or four seconds to feel the icy pinpricks on his soul. My friend Angela burst out laughing at the sight; "Wow, those hormones are working," she said, "I couldn't lay a male insult on you if I wanted too...that was 'bitch' all the way."
Will I ever stop using stupid male euphemisms in conversation? I think so. I can see them dwindling already, and it's rarity these days for me to say something so jolting that it kicks me into dysphoria. On the other hand, my enunciation will sometimes trigger it.
Will I always feel like a gorilla when I'm walking? This one's tough...I don't always feel like I'm a gorilla, but then I catch my reflection or something and it snaps my suspenders. One of my co-workers actually said she doesn't like walking next to me, though, because *she* feels like the gorilla...apparently I'm a bit prim sometimes. I'll take it, for now.
Will I make new friends? Will I get invited to do things with other women? Yes. And quite often, as it turns out.
Will there ever be times when I'm not consciously aware of how I'm "different"? Yes, but only for very, very brief moments so far. Mostly that's my own fault.
Will people still like me? Love me? Respect me? Yes. Yes. Yes. No one I love has deserted me, and in just the last few months, I've made several new acquaintances who are already very dear to me.

So there you go. Your mileage may vary.

White Noise

2008-11-08T10:52:00.000-05:00

Will I "pass"? Will it matter?
Is my voice good enough?
Will I still be able to perform my job duties? Will people at work still listen to what I have to say and take me seriously?
What's it like to get up every day and slather on makeup? Do my hair? Pull on my Spanx? When will the novelty wear off?
Will I get by if I don't look perfect on a given day? On those days I feel fat and ugly?
Will I still be jealous when a woman walks by wearing a great pair of shoes? Sporting a killer hair cut? Holding hands with her significant other?
Can I be happy? Will I dread tomorrow, or anticipate its arrival gladly?
Will I always have to look over my shoulder?
Will I have to defend my identity every single day? Will I need to correct people about names, about pronouns, about "sir" all the time? Will it eventually wear me down?
Is it all worth it if I never find love again?
Will I hit a wall (metaphorically speaking, of course)? Will there be days I want to go back?
Will I ever not stop in front of a mirror to make sure I look okay?
Will I drift away from the transgendered community?
Will I be a bitch?
Will I ever stop using stupid male euphemisms in conversation?
Will I always feel like a gorilla when I'm walking?
Will I make new friends? Will I get invited to do things with other women?
Will there ever be times when I'm not consciously aware of how I'm "different"?
Will people still like me? Love me? Respect me?

If the Real Life Test were really a test, these would be some of the questions. Some are perhaps unique to me; no doubt you will have a few that are uniquely your own. Many - probably most - are common to all of us, though. And I'm sure I've missed dozens...feel free to add to this list!

Early on in therapy, my doctor talked about the "white noise" that accompanies gender dysphoria...a sort of persistent drone - sometimes faint and in the background, sometimes loud and up front - echoing around in your head and making it hard to give other things the attention they deserve. "The RLE," he would say, "usually makes that go away."

Turns out he was right.

Because that drone is you, asking yourself those questions over and over again. And one way or the other, RLE gives you the answers you need. Be they "yes" or "no", "true" or "false", you get to finally silence that annoying voice.

More often than not, that means you can now start asking yourself new questions.

But sometimes it means that on a November day gripped in the midst of the most beautiful Indian Summer ever, you can just walk over to the curb at the gas station you're at and step up into the grass, close your eyes, turn your face into the breeze, and keys dangling from a fingertip, just enjoy a moment or two of static-free bliss.

Well Done

2008-11-05T01:40:00.000-05:00

I have to go to bed now, but I couldn't lie down without acknowledging the amazing evening we've all just been a part of.

Good on all of us who voted for Obama and helped this country finally live up to the dream it was predicated upon.

Rocking The Vote

2008-11-04T12:04:00.000-05:00

So at 10:45 AM, I submitted my ballot. My vote has been cast for over an hour now. I'm still giddy about it. Today is going to be tense and exciting, and for the first time ever, I'm loving every second of it.

The next time I vote, Ahura Mazda willing, I'll be an entirely different person, at least on paper. This time around though, the paper and the person didn't really match and I admit, I was apprehensive about it. I even had the number for the Transgender Legal Defense handy if need be. But of course it wasn't...not even close. Only the guy whose job it was to look up names even batted an eyelash; he breezed my name two or three times before realizing there was no other Knipe on the list. "This is you," he had to ask, somewhat incredulous. It felt kind of good, because I have the same kind of disconnect with that name these days.

In fifteen minutes I'm driving up to Oakland University, where I'll be guest speaking to a Sociology of Gender class. I'm excited about it; it's a kind of activism that really appeals to me, and I can't think of a better day to be doing it. Obviously, my "I Voted" sticker is proudly displayed, for all these young people to see.

Afterwards I'm coming home, settling in with some pizza or something, and watching the returns. No doubt, I'll have more to blog about later...one way or the other. Let's hope its "one way" and not "the other".

Two Months and Counting...

2008-10-30T17:58:00.000-04:00

I've been fulltime now since August 18th and things have been going swimmingly at work.

It's strange, but it's almost like someone flipped a switch. I'm suddenly doing everything so much better than I was before. And others are noticing. My supervisor was impressed enough with a lecture I gave that he asked if he could adapt and present it to some higher-ups . My teammates have begun turning to me for answers when they have questions, especially when it comes to interpreting data...which historically has been a weakness of mine. And this week I believe I solved a riddle that will save my company tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of dollars.

It's like the world has been cast in sharp relief and things are just easier now.

Then I read this bit from one of Mike Penner/Christine Daniels old blogs:

"All I can say at this point is that I am now happier, more focused and more energized when I sit behind a keyboard. The wicked writer's block that used to reach up and torture me at some of the worst possible times imaginable has disappeared."

Maybe I should be worried that things are going too well. Maybe it would be better if the world was fuzzy and hard again.

Nah, but it does offer food for thought.

This is where we talk...

2008-10-21T20:19:00.000-04:00

I said some things over at Lori's blog that hurt Jo. And I think there's value in talking about those things, but not there.

So let's talk in general about marital relationships when one of the partners is trans and how those relationships can be managed, or about how we use the internet to communicate, or about things that offend us.

(There was a bunch of other stuff here, but I deleted it. Let's just start a conversation and see where it goes.)

Wistful

2008-10-14T23:31:00.000-04:00

There's a black dress hanging on my closet door. It's what I'm wearing to the wedding on Friday. I've walked by it at least a dozen times since hanging it there yesterday. It wasn't until tonight though that I stopped and looked at it, and thought huh, there's a black dress hanging on my closet door. It wasn't so long ago such a thing was completely unthinkable, and nowadays it goes almost completely unregistered...except for those few lingering moments when my recollection of before conflates with my here and present now.

Yesterday morning, while sitting at my makeshift vanity getting ready for work, Beth came into my room and sat on the bed with me. Loki, our 8-year old tomcat, was with us. We played with him and talked. She asked what I was wearing to the wedding. I indicated my old standby, the aforementioned black dress. Dissatisfied, she went to her room and returned with two dresses still in bags...garments she had never worn but thought I might like. Neither fit well enough to supplant my original choice, but it was fun trying. It wasn't until much later I got to thinking about how dramatically we have changed...how much easier my relationship with this woman, who is still technically my wife, is with all the pretense gone. I have to believe it's still hard for her at times - there was never any pretense on her side of things, after all - but if so, she doesn't show a hint of it.

Christianne asked me a week or so ago if, at this point, I would do anything different. I wouldn't. I'm as happy now as I've ever been.

The Party

2008-10-13T00:52:00.000-04:00

So I'm freshly back from Chicago and my friend Angela's bachelorette party. You might recall from my last blog how there was some trepidation surrounding the event. Well, the good news is that Ang and I had a blowout middle of last week, and better in tune with each others' feelings, were able to enjoy the weekend without anxiety.

And it was a good weekend! Friday night we hung out with her friend Johnny, drank a bottle of wine each, then went to a tasting at a local wine shop, and after that, Italian at a place called Amici's. Their calamari was fantastic. I pooped out early while the others went clubbing; sadly, the clubs were kind of a dud and Johnny got pickpocketed, so I think I came out ahead on the deal.

Saturday was the party itself, and it had all the earmarks of a classic bachelorette blowout. We started out with tapas at Sangria. We hit a club and an Irish pub, then settled in at a bar where one of the girls was friends with a bouncer and a bartender, which meant free cover and free drinks the whole time we were there. I even got chatted up by a cute guy (he insisted on buying me a drink even though I tried to explain to him I was already drinking for free) who was dismayed to learn I lived in Michigan. Then we finished up the night at the infamous Exit, where Ang was friends with the bartender and drank free again. We also met an old acquaintance of hers named Teddy, who was larger than life (although not physically large). In fact, he and the whole bar would have been perfectly at home in a Robert Rodriquez movie...a strange mishmash of southwestern gothic that immediately put me at ease.

So yeah, underwear was bared, flirting was done, liquor poured freely, and while there were no male strippers, Teddy did drop trou at one point. By any measure, it was a successful bachelorette party.

No party is complete without some drama though, and Ang got a double heaping of it. None of it involved me and I was able to shift back into the role of supportive friend, but for a weekend that was so much fun, it ended on a crappy note. Hopefully, all will be better in the next day or so.

Minor Drama

2008-10-05T23:35:00.000-04:00

Apparently I need to update this more often. Problem is, I don't have a lot to say.

There's the typical bullshit. I'm being sued by Citibank for defaulting on my credit card and have a court date next week. That's not much fun, but I'm not as stressed about it as I would've been, say, two years ago. And I'm not sure why that is, except to say the hrt seems to be working as an anti-depressant for me. Much more so than the actual anti-depressants I was on before.

Which I may be tossing down the toilet, starting tomorrow. Saw my transition doctor last week and we decided to give the ol' progesterone a trial run. She's not a proponent of it - I'll be her first patient on the stuff, actually - and neither am I, really. There isn't really anything other than anecdotal evidence to recommend it. And there's a lot of possible downside for what may amount to a slight overall increase in breast size. But screw it, if I start to feel crazy or grow hair on my shoulders again, I'll just stop.

I've also been slightly angry, and I hesitate to say anything because, you know, this is a public blog and I could hurt someone's feelings...

Back in January I was asked to be a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding. Shortly thereafter she came to me and asked me to step down. She said she had talked it over with her fiance and together they decided it would be too much distraction on a day where they wanted all eyes on them.

And God help me, I bit my tongue, even though it hurt like hell. Yes, it was a pretty selfish thing for her to say, and one that hurt my ego on many levels, but at the end of the day, it was her wedding, not mine, and a person should be able to plan their wedding whatever way they want without compromise. She's always been a good friend to me, so I tried hard to be a good friend to her and make it easy by not saying anything.

Later she tells me she's got me a corsage and although I won't be standing up, I'll be involved in "every other way." Which, you know, is kind of a slap in the face, but I'm thinking, if it makes her feel better about this whole ordeal, so be it. And I continue to bite my tongue.

Then for the last month or so, she's been bitching about two of the people standing up on the groom's side. One is a scumbag thief she wants no proximity with (she catches shoplifters for a living, and she's nearly busted him several times). The other is a friend who's engaged to one of her bridesmaids/bestfriends, and through various drama because of that, has gotten on her bad side (and she on his). She bitches and complains about how she wishes they weren't in the wedding and how she's going to have to always see them in the wedding pictures and yada yada. And the whole time I'm thinking, "This is really rubbing it in." But I bite my tongue.

Then on Friday night we're talking on the phone and she expresses to me that now she's afraid she won't be invited to stand up in the friend's wedding, and how shitty that is and how much it'll suck if she doesn't get to be a bridesmaid in one of her best friend's weddings. And I stop biting my tongue. Calmly and coolly I tell her, "Maybe I'm not the right person to be complaining to about that." At first she doesn't understand, and then she realizes what she did. And then she tries to tell me it's different somehow, that she had no choice but to exclude me because of "society" or something, but that in this other case, it's just because someone wants to be a jerk. I didn't really say anything more than "however you spin it, it still hurts."

Eventually the conversation moved on - there was really no place else to go with it anyway - but right now I'm nurturing a low-grade sort of bitterness. Her bachelorette party is this weekend, and it's going to cost me an arm-and-a-leg, which I don't have (see second paragraph). And the wedding is next weekend. And I'll be at both, obviously, but it sucks, because right now it feels like I'm just doing maintenance on the relationship, rather than really enjoying my friend's moment.

And make no mistake, she is a friend. She might be remarkably insensitive about some things, and she may really be struggling with my whole transition, but she's also the only person to ever encourage me to sing. Which if you've ever heard my tone deaf ass (and Laura has, on multiple occasions), you realize just what that meant.

Morning Person

2008-09-23T05:50:00.000-04:00

It's just before 6 (in the morning) and I've already been up an hour. For someone who only begrudgingly accepts the existence of AM hours because without them the PM wouldn't seem so great, this is excruciating. It's also the price of being fulltime. Sacrifices must be made, I suppose...

Once I'm done with hair removal, I should be able to add a half hour back into my sleep schedule, which doesn't seem like much, but I'd take it right now. The problem is I still have to shave a bit, and as we all know, you have to give the ol' face a bit of a reprieve before slapping on the paint. What's a girl to do for that half-hour or so? Usually I get online and read your blogs. But none of you have written anything in the five hours or so since I last checked in. So instead, I logged onto Maple Story and played with my pet panda.

I always wanted to design video games. I have no aptitude for math or programming languages, nor the patience it would take, so I settled for tabletop rpg design. Maple Story makes me jealous; with its cutesy graphics and painted backgrounds and infinitely customizable characters, it's exactly the sort of thing I love. And it has a hell of a business model too, when compared to other multi-player rpgs: The game is free to download and play, but you can pay for special features (most of which are largely aesthetic). Sure, it's mostly populated by teens and pre-teens, as are all online games, and it's full of endless repetition as you grind out the levels. But you can own a panda! (for about five dollars real American money!) You should see it when I tell him to "poop".

"T"

2008-09-15T23:19:00.000-04:00

I find this interesting...maybe you will too.

This American Life talks about testosterone and its affects on personality.

One of the guests is a trans-man. Topics include gender, feminism, and misogyny. Give it a listen.

Strange Aeons

2008-09-10T08:17:00.000-04:00

The CERN experiments could reveal more about "dark matter," antimatter and possibly hidden dimensions of space and time.

It lacks HP Lovecraft's signature verbosity, but damn if it doesn't sound like a piece of his fiction. Forget transition everyone, it's time to choose sides!

"We shall see that at which dogs howl in the dark, and that at which cats prick up their ears after midnight." - HP Lovecraft, From Beyond

Crap

2008-09-03T22:58:00.000-04:00

The HRC published it's Corporate Equality Index yesterday. I spent some time with it, but missed this part, which Transgender Workplace Diversity points out:

Interestingly, the report notes that two companies opposed shareholder resolutions to amend their non-discrimination policies to include gender identity: Verizon Communications Inc. and Wal-Mart Stores Inc.

Meijer (the company I work for) is in direct competition with Wal-Mart, so I already don't shop there. It's nasty anyway. But I am a Verizon user. Crap.

On a side note, Meijer's Gender Identity non-discrimination and workplace transition guidelines weren't in place soon enough to be listed in this year's CEI. So next year that's an automatic 20 point bump...25 if I can persuade the benefits director to re-imagine our healthcare provisions.

The Assassination Game

2008-08-30T11:43:00.000-04:00

It took less than a fortnight for the bad side of my total non-anonymity to reveal itself. Earlier this week, someone falsely accused me of something that, were it true, would land me in the unemployment line. So begins a game in which the crosshairs are permanently etched on my forehead while the would-be snipers remain completely unseen and, I assume, at large.

Frankly, I expected this. Each of my stores employs about three hundred people. Add in the hundreds of customers I encounter on a daily basis and eventually I was going to run into someone who found my presence distasteful enough they'd go out of their way to cause trouble. It won't be the last time either, I bet.

But it is frustrating. Although I was exonerated with alacrity, it won't go ungossiped about. So not only am I now wary of an invisible villain among the crowd, I'm going to have to fight to preserve the trust of others who don't - and can't - know the whole story. I'm more afraid of character assassination than I am anything else.

Celebrity Skin

2008-08-26T18:23:00.000-04:00

I try not to talk too much about this stuff because, you know, Big Brother might be watching, but it was suggested to me by more than one co-worker that I would enjoy a sort of celebrity status in my new stores. I kind of poo-pooed it. There was a spotlight, for sure, but I expected resentment more than anything else. Or at best, to be a kind of sideshow attraction.

And right away, that seemed the case. On the first day, I was practically mobbed (okay, that's a bit hyperbolic, but you get the point) at one of my stores, as person after person made a point of tracking me down to introduce themselves. All I could think was, "They can't wait to get a look."

It's early still, but there are signs that I, as always, underestimated people and/or myself. Today I was welcomed into a meeting that other analysts (one of these days I'll have to explain what it is I "analyze) have struggled to get invited to, and made friends to the point of hearing tragic stories of family dysfunction with a person who is notoriously not that friendly to outsiders. And while I've always been an easy person to get along with - it's one of the reasons I figured I might stand a chance at this transition thing - I'm not ruling out the possibility that my trans status is somehow playing a role. Trans is the new gay, after all. Or so I've been told.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In other news:

I spent a long weekend at my parents', in the wilds of northern Michigan. This was the weekend they were introduced to their wayward daughter, and for the most part, it went well. For starters, I let my father make up for years of neglect by paying for a badly needed cut and color at the local salon...an act I think he relished, based on how often he complimented me afterwards.

The salon itself was a bit of an adventure. Growing up in Boyne City, I never knew of any gay men. And I'm pretty sure this one doesn't see many trannies. It was kind of cool to make a GLBT connection in the primeval wilderness and a little pampering was exactly the reprieve I needed from the low-grade stress I had been harboring up 'til that point. And I'm pretty sure the next time my mom goes in for a perm they'll have something to talk about. Yes, he's my mom's hairdresser, and no, she never told him about me.

That's actually a very cool thing about my parents...they're very matter-of-fact about my trans-ness. They told the people who needed to know, and will go on about it at length if I ever come up in general conversation, but otherwise, they're content to let the world be. At one point during the weekend, an old acquaintance - a one-time baby-sitter, actually - spotted us from across a crowded restaurant and came over to talk. Later I confessed I wasn't quite sure how to explain myself to her, to which my mother replied: "Why would you need to explain yourself?" Awesome, huh?

In the not-so-cool but still kind of funny department, my grandfather - who was informed months ago of my impending changes - had completely neglected to share that knowledge with his wife. Saturday, my dad called to confirm that we were all still having dinner, and when asked who "all" was, he replied: "Me, Sue, Annette, the kids, and Renee." My poor step-grandmother had no idea about "Renee", and she learned it all over the telephone about forty minutes before the group of us showed up on her doorstep. The kicker: She actually has a nephew who is a trans-man, so none of this is shocking or unfamiliar to her. Upon my arrival, she gave me perhaps the biggest hug I've ever gotten from someone other than my mom, and she may have actually outdid my mom with the one she laid on me as we were leaving.

Grandpa, despite having been prepped, wasn't quite as enthusiastic...at least not in the beginning. For an hour or so, he wouldn't make eye contact with me. If I tried to join in the conversation, he would either re-direct it around me or sit silently until someone else spoke. But finally I broke the ice with my superior knowledge of identity fraud; he'd recently had his credit card numbers stolen somehow, and my 11 years in fraud prevention gave me exactly the in we both needed. Not long after that I was sharing with him my grandmother's long-lost recipe for BBQ sauce - a secret she imparted upon me before her death - and he was thinking of other recipes of hers that he thought I might enjoy. We reminisced about summers spent on his hundred-acre farm, and before departing, he invited me back to go fishing sometime before snow flies. I doubt I'll be able to make it this fall, but perhaps next spring when the ice thaws.

The other members of my extended family were very cool. We ate breakfast with two of my aunts each morning, and they were as warm and friendly as ever. Perhaps moreso, even. There was one uncle who was persona non grata the whole weekend, but he's a bit of an iconoclast anyway, so I can't read too much into his vanishing act.

Perhaps most indelible were the reactions of my young nephew (10) and niece (6). My nephew idolized me a bit - why I don't know, because I've been a terrible uncle/aunt these past few years - but he adapted quickly. And the youngest, who barely remembers her uncle I'd venture, became quite distraught when I left for my hair appointment: "Where is Aunt Renee? Is she coming back? Will I get to see her tonight?"

My sister was pretty awesome too. As Sunday rolled around and we were trying to get everything packed up to go, tempers flared a bit. She lashed out at me: "Stop being such a bitch," she yelled in retaliation for some perceived slight, tears forming in her eyes. Later, after everyone cooled down, I thanked her for the gender-appropriate insult and we both got a laugh out of it.

In other news, I see signs of life in, errr, my social life. Tomorrow night is dinner with my friend Michelle - the friend from this blog - who I haven't seen since affecting my transition at work and switching stores. And next week, dinner and drinks with a couple co-workers and some of their friends as we celebrate a birthday on the town. This is very exciting for me! These are people my own age for once and I'm eager to see how I fit in.

Ahhh, but wow have I written alot this time. It definitely violates my three paragraph rule. It should have been two blogs, but oh well...I'll let it slide this time.

For Kurt

2008-08-21T01:18:00.000-04:00

This is a specific response to my friend Kurt, although maybe it'll interest others has well. If you're looking for normal content and updates on how the transition is going, click here.

kurthack said:

A question comes to mind... as the fanfare continues to fade away will you miss it? Will you miss the intrinsic dialogue and spectacle that is associated with someone breaking the rule of social norm?

Whilst, we have discussed your goal is normalcy, does now being so close cause any anxiety that heretofore you've been insulated from by the stresses of transition?

Hi Kurt!

It's a fairly well-known phenomenon, people get used to chaos. I'm a pretty self-aware person, and I'm pretty sure I am going to miss it. For instance, I find that if I haven't had enough drama in my own life, I'll sometimes go trolling for it. Again, I'm aware of what I'm doing, so I'll at least try to channel that energy in some way, but even so, it's not always a good thing. I rather suspect as my transition draws to a close, I'll spend quite a bit of time in therapy learning how to cope with all my newfound downtime.

As far as the dialogue goes, I think I'll always have that. I'm philosophically opposed to the idea of "stealth" - which is our community's way of describing those individuals who blend so well into mainstream society that their gender identity is never questioned and they prefer to keep it that way - so I'll keep the conversation going with whoever wants to listen. But I say that now. Maybe I'll tire of it eventually, but I don't see that happening until all of my rights are guaranteed and protected by federal mandate, at the very least.

And regarding newly uncovered anxieties:

The night after the first day, I had a few brief moments of disillusionment while trying to get to sleep. Once I got over the joy of not having been treated badly, it occurred to me that my first day wasn't everything I had hoped for. No one had gendered me wrong, for instance, but no one really gendered me at all, all day long. They just avoided pronouns and such. So while there wasn't really anyone pointing and screaming "man!", they also weren't screaming and pointing "woman!". And probably they shouldn't have been, because work isn't necessarily where you should get that kind of personal validation, but there's no doubt I dreamt of something more. I quickly dispensed with those feelings, though, because I'm generally reasonable and there was no good reason to be dissatisfied with how things went.

Having made that adjustment, the second day provided more validation than I could have ever hoped for...

That's really the only stress I've felt thus far, where the hope conflicts with the reality. But heck, I hoped for something better but actually expected something worse...it only makes sense I land somewhere in the middle. And I rather suspect that's true of many trans-women; transition is a stab at happiness, it's far from guaranteed, and I doubt anyone will tell you it turned out exactly as they planned.

Updates, Really?

2008-08-20T23:09:00.000-04:00

So Rebecca called for it. But I'm not sure what to talk about.

The second and third days have been about the same as the first, except better. Whereas the first day was notable for its lack of trans-talk and general friendliness, the last two have revealed people willing to embrace me in ways I found extremely validating.

At every store there is a coterie of plainclothes security personnel. As you might imagine, it tends to be a bit of a boys' club. Both of my stores have exactly one female one store detective, and they both said exactly the same thing shortly after meeting me: "It's going to be nice having another woman around here for a change." You can imagine my delight.

I did have an encounter with one team member who seemed to be morally opposed to referring to me in the female gender, but apart from that, the "ma'am"s and "miss"es flow pretty freely. And it's particularly gratifying when a customer flags me down in that way, because while I don't place much value in "passing", it's nice to get that acknowledgment from someone who wasn't carefully instructed beforehand on how to behave.

In the category of cute, yesterday a young boy approached me while his mother was busy doing something else in the aisle. "You're the tallest woman I've ever seen," he exclaimed. Then he wanted to know my name and to carry on a conversation with me. Not five minutes later a somewhat older girl with her mother pointed to me and gasped, "Look!" And I thought, Oh great here we go. But instead of pointing out what I assumed to be the obvious, she said, "See mom, you're not the tallest woman ever." Her mom smiled at me - I rather suspect she was a bit more astute than her daughter - but she didn't let on: "I guess not...how refreshing."

I thought for a long time that working in retail, where I'd be thrown into the mix with literally thousands of uninitiated new people day-in and day-out, would make for a horrible transition experience. I had the blog already written in my mind, where I would liken it to having a scab ripped off repeatedly, never to heal, and how that was ultimately my undoing. I'm hoping I never write that blog...right now, it seems like I might be in the clear.

Tomorrow is a whole new adventure. I have a long weekend coming up, during which I'm visiting with my family in northern Michigan. My extended family even, including my grandfather and his wife and her family. If I'm lucky, some uncles and aunts I haven't seen in ages too. I'm sure you'll hear all about that sometime next week...unless I can get the dial up to work at my parents' house.

Sheesh, for not knowing what to talk about, I sure said a mouthful.