Anne2345
10-30-2011, 02:58 PM
I have written recently about how I have come out to a small, trusted, and very much loved select few number of friends. I have told about who I am, about Anne, and that I am Anne. I have shown pictures of myself. I have explained my emotions, feelings, and needs. I have cried much. I have opened up. I have expressed my fears, anxieties, and concerns. And I have laid bare my soul to my friends.
Of course, my friends are confused and worried, and who could blame them? It is going to take them a while to come to terms with what I have offered them of my life. In this, I have spent my lifetime dealing with being transgendered, and I am far from having it “down” myself. My friends, on the other hand, have not had any reason to deal with the attendant issues until now, and my confession has come as a complete and total surprise to them.
But one thing that my friends have made abundantly clear and absolutely understood is their unequivocable and unconditional love for me. They have also blessed me with acceptance, compassion, and kindess. I no longer feel like I am completely alone on an island, or that I have been sentenced to solitary confinement. This is not to say that I now have this figured out, my head is straight, and all is good in life. Not by a long shot. This experience, however, shall take me far in my progression. This is yet another awakening within my journey. This I know to be true – I can feel it within my being, and it is comforting to know.
I am quite fortunate to have such wonderful, caring, and loving friends, and quite honestly, I am completely blown away by it all and emotionally overwhelmed.
To say that this has been a cathartic experience would do the experience an unforgiveable injustice. This has been sooooo much more than merely cathartic, it has been necessary and life-changing.
As one would expect, I have spent many, many hours this week addressing this issue with my friends. It has been productively good for them, and it has been amazingly validating for me. I did, though, want to share with you all an e-mail I received from one of them, in between the long talks we have had, and shortly after I came out. The sentiment means the world to me. Here it is:
I know what it feels like now to have truly racing thoughts. I’ve experienced it once in forty years. The usual pace of my inner monologue isn’t a slow one, but my thoughts traveling their usual course are incomplete, not fully formed. In this instance, I’m talking about complete thought-sentences and drawn conclusions, traveling so rapidly through my mind, that despite their individual fullness, the complete parts make too big of a whole to process and to hear their complete sound.
They revolve at the speed of numbers spinning past the selector on a roulette wheel. So fast you can’t identify the sound of their individual tic-tic-tics, but you hear them purr in succession as they whir. Complete, conclusive thought-sounds: I don’t know what I’m seeing. It’s a Halloween costume. No, it isn’t. When men dress in a “woman costume,” the end result isn’t pretty. It’s isn't supposed to be pretty – it’s a joke, get it? It’s a man in woman’s clothes. This isn’t a man in a “woman costume.” It’s a woman, and this isn’t a joke. It’s a woman. A statuesque, unashamed, beautiful vulnerable woman. A woman who feels like her lipstick doesn’t compliment her scarlet dress quite perfectly enough. A woman who doesn’t feel perfect.
But there’s another sound. A constant one, not fleeting like these transient thought sounds. It’s the hum of hub – the center of the wheel upon which the roulette turret spins. And that sound says: this is a person I love, and this person I love is hurting because of this. Now it’s my job to do whatever it takes to relentlessly minimize the hurting, until hopefully the pain of it subsides. This is a man I love. This is a woman I love. This is a complete, fully formed, beautiful person who I love.
Of course, my friends are confused and worried, and who could blame them? It is going to take them a while to come to terms with what I have offered them of my life. In this, I have spent my lifetime dealing with being transgendered, and I am far from having it “down” myself. My friends, on the other hand, have not had any reason to deal with the attendant issues until now, and my confession has come as a complete and total surprise to them.
But one thing that my friends have made abundantly clear and absolutely understood is their unequivocable and unconditional love for me. They have also blessed me with acceptance, compassion, and kindess. I no longer feel like I am completely alone on an island, or that I have been sentenced to solitary confinement. This is not to say that I now have this figured out, my head is straight, and all is good in life. Not by a long shot. This experience, however, shall take me far in my progression. This is yet another awakening within my journey. This I know to be true – I can feel it within my being, and it is comforting to know.
I am quite fortunate to have such wonderful, caring, and loving friends, and quite honestly, I am completely blown away by it all and emotionally overwhelmed.
To say that this has been a cathartic experience would do the experience an unforgiveable injustice. This has been sooooo much more than merely cathartic, it has been necessary and life-changing.
As one would expect, I have spent many, many hours this week addressing this issue with my friends. It has been productively good for them, and it has been amazingly validating for me. I did, though, want to share with you all an e-mail I received from one of them, in between the long talks we have had, and shortly after I came out. The sentiment means the world to me. Here it is:
I know what it feels like now to have truly racing thoughts. I’ve experienced it once in forty years. The usual pace of my inner monologue isn’t a slow one, but my thoughts traveling their usual course are incomplete, not fully formed. In this instance, I’m talking about complete thought-sentences and drawn conclusions, traveling so rapidly through my mind, that despite their individual fullness, the complete parts make too big of a whole to process and to hear their complete sound.
They revolve at the speed of numbers spinning past the selector on a roulette wheel. So fast you can’t identify the sound of their individual tic-tic-tics, but you hear them purr in succession as they whir. Complete, conclusive thought-sounds: I don’t know what I’m seeing. It’s a Halloween costume. No, it isn’t. When men dress in a “woman costume,” the end result isn’t pretty. It’s isn't supposed to be pretty – it’s a joke, get it? It’s a man in woman’s clothes. This isn’t a man in a “woman costume.” It’s a woman, and this isn’t a joke. It’s a woman. A statuesque, unashamed, beautiful vulnerable woman. A woman who feels like her lipstick doesn’t compliment her scarlet dress quite perfectly enough. A woman who doesn’t feel perfect.
But there’s another sound. A constant one, not fleeting like these transient thought sounds. It’s the hum of hub – the center of the wheel upon which the roulette turret spins. And that sound says: this is a person I love, and this person I love is hurting because of this. Now it’s my job to do whatever it takes to relentlessly minimize the hurting, until hopefully the pain of it subsides. This is a man I love. This is a woman I love. This is a complete, fully formed, beautiful person who I love.