I was clueless when I first started down this path.
Completely freaking clueless.
Sure, as any reasonable person would do, I did my research, I read all that I could find, I talked to folk, and I did this, that, and the other thing.
Still. At the end of the day, I didn't have a damn clue about crap.
The funny thing is, even though I could see the carnage, see the casualties, and witness with my own eyes the ravages of war in all of its splendid dysphoric glory on the battlefronts, I thought I was special.
I thought I was The Exception.
Yep.
I gotta laugh at this. I gotta laugh at me. And in hindsight, it is funny. Perhaps even precious, in some kind of sweet, innocent, naïve tranny newbie who is finally beginning to open her eyes from a life-long stay within the Matrix kinda way.
I mean, everyone that is anyone here has seen it a gazillion-million times over. I can picture it all quite easily, in fact: "Awwwwww! Look at the cute widdle baby twanny that thinks she knows better than all the west of us!! Isn't she just darling and the cutest li'l thing you've ever seen?!"
Double yep. Perhaps even triple yep.
As in yep, yep, and yep.
And just for good measure, lemme throw in a good "yup," as well. You know, for the sake of posterity and all.
Anyways, that was waaaaaaaaaay back in the day for me. Ancient history, no less. Or at least, it seems as if it's ancient history to me.
Regardless, flash forward to the here and now, many battle scars and war injuries later, I know different.
Oh how I know different!
I ain't The Exception.
Nope. Not me.
What's more is that I also know that none of you are The Exception, either.
Despite whatever color you believe the sky to be in your world, you're no different than me, you're no different than any who has preceded me, or you're no different than any who shall come after me.
It took me a long time to figure this out. Yeah, many of you tried to tell me. Many of you warned me. Many of you told me The Truth.
That was all fine and well and junk, and I did appreciate the effort y'all put into trying to pry my eyes open, but I was one stubborn ass chica. I had to learn this for myself. But really, isn't that true for almost all of us here? At least, on this front?
True, there are a small number of exceptions roaming the halls here. Less than a hand full, I would estimate. And perhaps just enough to give those like me hope that I, too, could be The Exception.
Except the thing about being an exception is that such slots are far and few in between. Otherwise, it wouldn't be much of an exception, would it?
Don't believe me? Then check out the definition of the word "exception" in the dictionary. Google it. Do whatever. Because the overwhelming chances are that you are not an exception, just as I am not.
But that's okay! Yeah, it can really, really, really, really suck, but it's not the death sentence that I once thought it was.
I mean, I thought I couldn't survive this if my life fell completely apart. I thought I couldn't make it if my ship started to sink. I thought a great deal many negative things, all of which were rooted deeply in much fear. A fear which, btw, I had to overcome before I could truly begin to move forward in earnest.
Here I sit, though, still plugging away, doing my thing, and trudging on.
I have lost damn near all of my friends, my marriage is a complete f'ing train wreck that is doomed to failure, my family thinks I am stark raving loony tunes, my career is missing-in-action, and I have no idea how I am going to make my future work.
I am not The Exception.
This stuff happens, and it happens everyday. Nothing quite like a day in the life of a transitioning tranny, huh?
Either way, though, the fact of the matter is that being the norm is neither a good thing nor a bad thing. It's simply a thing.
And like most everything else in life, it's what we make out of this thing that, at least in part, defines us and whatever meaning we may attribute to it.
For me, there is no other way, and I am willing to pay the price, whatever that may be.
I shall do so, though, not out of fear, not out of despair, or not out of some kind of twisted sense of misdirected self-loathing or anything, but rather, I shall do so in hope for a more authentic and real life. And I shall do so because I am really beginning to love myself for the first time in my life, and in a way that I never thought was possible before.
This stuff is hard, though. Really, really hard, and I would not wish this crap on anyone.
Even though I am not The Exception, I now know it to be doable. Doable because it's the right thing for me to do, and because there is no other way.
I am good with this. As good with it as one can be, I suppose, for not being The Exception.
Writing this post, it's kinda weird, almost like I kinda feel as if I should be sitting in a metal folding back chair within a circle of folk sitting in similar chairs, each of whom have a story to tell. Not that I haven't done exactly that a million times before, but still . . . .
Hello. My name is Anne Kelly, and I am the norm. :-P