Tonight is the transgender – cross dresser support group meeting I go to on a regular basis. Usually when I go, I wonder what imaginable support I could give anybody. Then I started to realize I can lend a helping hand with the occasional comment and by just being there. Normally, I am considered the “elder” in the group and can add insight into how life was for trans people even before there was such a term.
I hope too, some of my insights may mean something but who knows. Perhaps I am doing it as much for me as I am for others. After all, one of my reasons for starting Cyrsti’s Condo at all, was to pay forward any of my experiences which could be beneficial to anyone else.
Changing the subject, yesterday turned out to be an interesting day too. The day itself could only be described as a “raw” day. Chilly, windy and gray with very light misty rain. In the middle of it all, here our little group was huddled in a local park picnic shelter discussing the Cincinnati Witches Ball Halloween party.
At the last meeting, I asked if the leader of the group needed help setting up our usual table at Pride this June. My answer came yesterday when she slammed a couple pieces of paper down in front of me and said since I wanted to do Pride, here it was. She was so angry and stressed, she ended up quitting the group a short time later. So now, since I opened my mouth before, I am in charge of our Pride booth. It’s not that big of a deal if I can get the paper work and/or promotional materials we always use.
I should have learned along time ago, don’t open your mouth and volunteer, unless you want to be accepted. Besides, I always have such a great time at Pride!
Not my Mom, if she returned from the great beyond, it would be bigger news. This post is about meeting up with the woman who you might recall, harassed me a couple times about my hair. I made the comment at the time, she reminded me of how my Mom would have approached me.
Fortunately this time, I just had my trip to my hair dresser Friday, so visually I was ready for her.
When Liz and I arrived at the outside shelter house near a nearby lake, it didn’t take her long to approach me. To her credit, she was very positive about my hair which indeed made me feel better about our relationship.
Then, she asked could she tell me something and I thought now what? She paused and said how proud she was of me for living the life I wanted to. I was taken totally off guard. Finally I managed to blurt out the truth…I appreciated her acceptance but my choice didn’t come out of bravery or anything like it. I literally didn’t have the chance to be brave, it was either change my life or lose it.
A day later as I look back on her comment though, I feel now as if I finally found a sense of peace with my long deceased Mom. Whose approval is what I really wanted.
At my hairdresser yesterday, she asked me a question her transgender son brought up…does a transgender transition ever end. Her son felt as if it would never stop primarily because he would have to take hormones for the rest of his life. I agreed with that plus added in for me I wondered if my Trans-PTSD would ever go away.
An example happened today. Being Saturday, I went with Liz to two of her martial arts classes and went to the grocery store. Going into today and still loving my latest hair do, I thought I was doing my best to look good.
It must have worked, because everywhere I went, I didn’t have any problems. Well, actually, I did have a problem, myself. No matter how hard I tried, once again I couldn’t relax and live in the moment. All of a sudden, I was no better off than when I was a beginning cross dresser so many years ago.
I still don’t know how long it will take for it to ever go away. Perhaps it never will. Maybe living all those years as a guy will always imprint me.