My Life in Lavender

Bottom Surgery

2011-08-02T17:45:00.000-07:00

So here we are. I've decided to start looking into Bottom Surgery. It's not something I'm taking lightly. I really don't like surgery, and I've heard and seen some pics of complications with metoidioplasty and phalloplasty. But I've realized that for me it's the next step that I need to feel comfortable in my body. Not having a package has been rough for me. Examples:

I really enjoy hiking. One of the things that often happens on long trails with no johns is you have to take a whiz in the woods. I love going outdoors (this is probably tmi), but it's always an anxiety-ridden activity for me. I've had some close calls in the past. And that's not to count the numerous times I've been in public bathroom stalls with doors that don't lock. (This is especially common in state and national parks, where the clientele is often taking young boys in to pee...young boys who like to look under and/or open stall doors.) As someone who does not like stand and pee devices (those tubes fucking hurt! plus I have a big enough cock that all that rubbing is bad news for my arousal state.) or packing (even with the smallest softest packy it looks like I have a boner) I'd much rather have my attached pack be my only package.

I have has real fears of getting hurt somehow (in a bike accident, having a heart attac later in life et.) that would put me in a hospital that is less-then-kind to transfolks. I've heard enough horror stories about transpeople being medically neglected a left for dead that I really don't want to run that risk.

I'm tired of being stared at like a freak every time I go the ob/gyn office. And being examined is even worse. I'm lucky that the gynecologist at UCLA is ftm friendly, but he still says things like "women on testosterone" and it's just a really out-of-body horrible experience. I really don't want to do that as I age.

Sexually, it's really hard to connect with what's going on below...it's been that way for a while, but now every time I come I usually cry. It's just about the only time I cry anymore, but it's just a psychically painful completely lonely experience. I feel like I'll never have sex with a person again. I feel pretty physically unlovable despite having a nice upper body. I'm really into feminine women (queer or straight) but whenever I get aroused I just feel inadequate (I think this is especially strong because right now all my crushes are on straight women, and it brings up the feeling all wrong in high school stuff).

It's bad, I've talked to a therapist for a while but really there is no advice except accept what you have. I will keep trying to work on that, but really I'd give a lot to have closer to normative male equipment right now. :( I also know it doesn't help that since my ex I've been a series of blaugh dates and had next to no physical touch (which i definitely take a good chunk of the responsibility for). So yeah, that's what I'm working through right now.

A wonderful blog post on being a good ally

2011-05-29T19:39:00.000-07:00

http://mikkikendall.wordpress.com/2011/05/25/the-dos-and-donts-of-being-a-good-ally/

Also it should be added that, dating someone of a group you are an ally of does not give you license to be an asshole about that group. In fact that is actually abusing the title of ally. (Here's to looking at you my most recent crazy ex who fell under quite a few subheadings of this post including the "Oppression Olympics," creates her identity around the oppressions of her diverse group of friends to the detriment of all involved, and preys on mixed-race transmasculine folks.)

On another note, I have been thinking a lot recently about what it means to be a good ally within poc communities, especially when it comes to talking about different racial experiences and oppressions. Solidarity will look different according to one's positionality. This is obvious, but recently I went to a Mixed Student Union meeting and the organizers emphasized "the" mixed heritage experience, which seemed really reductive to me. Obviously being a mixed poc with no white heritage is different than being all poc and mixed. I think there is a caution to really parse out what experiences beyond racism different folks in communities of color experience along lines of class and sexuality also. Anyway, just some food for thought.

One Day I'd Love to Know the Name of the Recipient

2011-01-10T02:56:00.000-08:00

November 20, 2010 originally composed July 2010:
I want to try something different. Here it goes:

To whoever you are, however insufficient: a love letter.

It is the 4th of July and I am in Cambridge sitting beside the Charles River. It is warm, bright and humid; typical for July 4th in Boston. Tonight there will be the most amazing fireworks show, fried dough and the banks of the Charles will be overflowing. The Pops will play in the hatch shell and I wish I could take you.

If you sit on the Boston side and stare out over the water, it is so peaceful (despite the crowds) right before the show starts. There is an inlet right next to the canons for the “1812 Overture” and if I took you, we would sit there. I think you’ll be able to see the fireworks from just about any spot. Last year it was foggy which sucked.

I think about you every night before I go to sleep: what your favorite color is, where you are and what is happening in your life, your hopes and dreams, if you like dogs and cats as much as I do, what your quirks are, what we will fight about, what you look like. I wish you strength and comfort and safety and patience to find and see me. I wish I could hold you against my chest and kiss you. I wish I could fall asleep on your breasts and run my hands all over your body and through your hair. I wish I knew what your smile looks like and if you will wink at me. I wish I knew what flowers to buy and arrange for you and how you like your laundry folded. I wish I knew if it was tea and/or coffee and which kinds. I wish I knew what your family is like and how you fit in with them. I wish I knew what will make you laugh. I can’t wait to gift you my sweetness and gentleness and I hope I never take your beauty for granted.

Mostly, I just long for you and your well being with every fiber of my body.

Until we meet.
Love,
Jacob

How I've been (honestly)

2010-09-23T23:17:00.000-07:00

Ok, I haven't updated this thing in a while but it's time to be real.

I hate my life in this fucking city. It's a desert for a post-op on T Transguy who loves Femme Women. All the femmes that I've met in LA or online at okcupid, or craigslist (yes, I've posted plenty of ads) either want to date each other or don't want to be with a tranny and they say so. There's very little trans-awareness in general in queer female spaces and being born female and queer means liking either hipstery genderqueers or femmes (there are very few butches around this city :( )

All the passion I had for Women's and Gender studies has pretty much died out, which is bad because I'm starting to TA come Monday morning. I don't feel like there's a space for me here and that they admitted me only because I was born female. There's been little to no institutional support for sexuality studies or transgender studies. I feel like a robot here going to work out of habit because it pays the bills which is horrible because of the privilege I have to be in this institution being paid to study. The work isn't exciting because most of it is stuff that doesn't address queerness in a complicated way and mixed race theory is pretty much nonexistant.

I've felt erased in queer spaces, and spaces of color and am really tired of people telling me I should date guys if I ever want to get laid. I'm tired of feeling like half a person admitted into a circle of people of color just because I'm half asian which becomes a space where it's ok to verbally beat up on white people not on whiteness. I am a person of color, but I am also half white. This is not a contradiction. I'm tired of people who wave the radical politics flag but don't see the people they're supposedly fighting for or their privilege in being able to get arrested without fear of being sexually harassed or abused.

Case in point: after SB 1070 was passed last year a bunch of people got arrested for peaceful protest and I was asked to be a part of that group. I would have volunteered but unfortunately I was just trying to survive getting my period back and the worst cramps of my life. If I had gotten arrested and placed with the guys in jail with a period who knows what would have happened. There is a large degree of national and cissexual priviledge in being able to go to the slammer knowing you won't have to worry about a cellmate potentially raping and impregnating you, or being deported because you have a green card. All the people who were released put celebratory pictures on facebook. Instead of focusing on the point of the protest (standing against SB 1070), everyone's status updates were about freeing the protesters. What happens to the power of peaceful protest when it just becomes a self congratulatory excersize? I've become so disillusioned here.

I'm also sick of everyone in queer of color spaces telling me to decolonize my mind and that my past relationships failed because they were with white women. Maybe I'm breaking a confidence here but I wouldn't exist if it wasn't for interracial relationships. Is this the fucking 1950's? And hello dating a 100% woman of color would still be being in an interracial relationship for me...the same degree that being with a white woman would. My past relationships broke up for reasons other then that we both weren't people of color.

I miss the east coast and the East Bay because a) there were femmes who would date transguys and butches b) there wasn't this crazy policing around interracial dating c) there was just a lot more trans-awarness in the academy and in general...I wasn't the only transguy on T with top surgery. Ok rant over. But I seriously am thinking of quitting my program and getting the hell out of here.

FTM Prosthetics

2010-01-26T01:13:00.000-08:00

Due to some dysphoria about my nether regions resulting from a bit of spotting and an almost full blown period coupled with my frustration that some types of bottom surgery that allow one to pee standing up require a hysto, I've been doing a lot more research online to alternatives to phalloplasty and metoidioplasty. (For those who don't know these are the two types of bottom surgery available to FTMs right now.

I don't want a hysto if I can avoid it, yet I'm scared to not have one especially if tomorrow's visit to the radiologist involves finding endometriosis or fibroid tumors (my mom had these in her early forties resulting in a hysto). There's something really invasive to me about having a hysto and scars in that area that I'm not willing to have at this point. Giving up my eggs, even if they've laid dormant all this time is something that I just won't do. I don't plan on having kids myself, but the right to have my eggs removed at some point is something I'm just not ready to part with. Plus I'd feel kinda empty down there without ovaries...I don't know, they've been with me since I was little and body wise, I just want a cock and to produce sperm (something I know will never happen), not anything removed (except at times my uterus).

Anyway, the reason why I bring all this up besides tomorrows Radiologist Appt., UCLA just started covering trans surgeries this year (up to $23,000) which means a hysto and bottom surgery could actually happen. But honestly, I'm not keen on either procedure for what I'd like (to penetrate my partner without have to stop everything and put on a strap-on and also be able to feel inside her, god I'd give almost anything for that. Also, it'd be fantastic to actually pee standing at a urinal or in the woods instead of freaking out in a stall without a door when I'm 60.). Phalloplasty is super dangerous, leaves you with a giant scar on your forearm or thigh and leaves you with a huge penis you need to stick rods in to have sex that is not sensate and you can't urinate out of. Metoidioplasty leaves all the feeling in your cock (*they just use what T gave you) but depending on your urethra you might not be able to pee and honestly with my length I'll maybe be 2 1/2 erect. Metoidioplasty also gives you huge balls (I really don't care for/want balls) via saline implants that sound painful at first and I've read an account in which they deteriorated and infected a guys skin. Yeesh.

So, tonight I came back across a site I'd seen before I was interested in lower surgery and thought about how nice it would be if UCLA would cover a safer, cheaper (and probably better in my opinion) method of giving trans/genderqueer folks cocks. It's a website that makes an ultra realistic prosthetic which you can glue on and wear 24/7:

http://www.ftmprosthetics.com/

2nd Anniversary of having my Boy-chest

2010-01-24T17:14:00.000-08:00

Actually it was Jan 9, 2010. But better late then never :) In an attempt to document changes here's a pic first from tonight. Next here's a pic from Sept 09.

ANTM co-ops Hapa identity to be racist

2009-10-31T10:39:00.000-07:00

http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/2009/10/30/2009-10-30_tyra_banks_puts_contestants_on_americas_next_top_model_in_blackface.html

Copy and paste the link to your browser.
Urgh!

The Best 25 Buffy Episodes with Their Seasons

2009-10-17T18:09:00.000-07:00

Because I've always wanted to do this:
25. Choices - Season 3
24. Fear Itself - Season 4
23. Intervention - Season 5
22. Storyteller - Season 7
21. Potential - Season 7
20. This Year's Girl - Season 4
19. Who Are You? - Season 4
18. Grave - Season 6
17. Innocence - Season 2
16. Becoming Part 2 - Season 2
15. Welcome to the Hellmouth - Season 1
14. Older and Far Away - Season 6
13. New Moon Rising - Season 4
12. Halloween - Season 2
11. Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered - Season 2
10. Amends - Season 3
9. Restless - Season 4
8. The Wish - Season 3
7. Doppelgangland - Season 3
6. Family - Season 5
5. The Body - Season 5
4. Hush - Season 4
3. Once More With Feeling - Season 6
2. The Gift - Season 5
1. Tabula Rasa - Season 6

Honestly those are my favorites. But if I was to go on cinematic quality and groundbreaking film, I'd rearrange the top 10 to be:
10. Intervention - Season 5
9. Doppelgangland - Season 3
8. Becoming Part 2 - Season 2
7. Storyteller - Season 7
6. The Wish - Season 3
5. The Gift - Season 5
4. Restless - Season 4
3. The Body - Season 5
2. Once More with Feeling - Season 6
1. Hush - Season 4

And in my opinion the best seasons in regards to overall theme, character development and plot arch were (from best to worst):
-Season Three
-Season Five
-Season Six
-Season Two
-Season One
-Season Seven (actually kind of in a tie with season four for worst season)
-Season Four (despite having some of the best standalone episodes: this was the straightest season of Buffy despite Tara's appearance)

Seasons three, six and five were also the queerest seasons in terms of characters (esp. Buffy's love interest), freedom to discuss queerness and themes.

More Books!

2009-06-18T20:46:00.000-07:00

I have been on a reading tear since graduating...and I feel like this blog is turning into an online book review. So here's what I've read since last reporting in:

American Born Chinese, Gene Luen Yang: A very well done graphic novel weaving three different storylines circulating around a second generation Chinese boy named Jin and his frustration and shame in claiming his racial and ethnic identity.

Black Skins, White Masks, Franz Fanon: I've been meaning to read this classic work of Literary Criticism, Postcolonial/Cultural/Psychological Theory since my last year at Cal. It was incredible and will be on my general exam booklist. Some of it is pretty outdated, but a lot of it isn't.

Parrotfish, Ellen Wittlinger: The one and only YA book with a Transman as the main character. You can tell the author has read Kate Bornstein put has no personal experience with being trans. You can also tell she's been out of high school for a long time...the characters don't really act like teenagers and the slow developing plot gets resolved extremely quickly and rather unrealistically. Could someone else please write a YA transman novel of the same quality as Julie Ann Peter's Luna?

My Dillon manuscript has reached 115 pages...and we're missing about three paragraphs so it looks like I'll be spending a good chunk of next Summer in England if I can get grants.

Also, today I was informed two hours ahead of time that my apt. was going to be shown. Since the landlord told me he wouldn't be showing the unit until early July I hurriedly cleaned up "my" place. Luckily, it was already pretty clean from my older bro crashing here for graduation...but still it reminded me of how impermanent my state is here. And I left before the agent showed up with the prospective tenant. Thinking about leaving is too depressing. Tonight T and El had a family dinner and I realized it's probably one of the last.

Ah Chuck

2009-05-26T23:10:00.000-07:00

Which Chuck Character Are You?

More on Chuck. Created by BuddyTV

So glad it was renewed, too bad we have to wait for March...the best show on tv. Viva la nerd!

Reading Updates and Summer Plans

2009-05-07T23:18:00.000-07:00

Since last posting I've read the following:

Genderqueer (great great book)

The Color Purple, Alice Walker (just as awesome as everyone says it is!)

Peninsula of Lies: A True Story of Mysterious Birth and Taboo Love, Edward Ball (This was horrible, it was written by a cissexual white straight male who while up to speed on trans and intersex terminology doesn't give his subject the benefit of letting her be her identity hunting for the "truth" of her sex. Kinda like what All S/he Wanted did to Brandon Teena.)

Labor of Love, Thomas Beatie (this was good also. I prefer hearing transmen talk about their own histories rather then read whatever fucked up stuff the media throws out about them.)

In regards to Summer plans, besides working on the L M Dillon Memoir, I just applied to intern for 8 weeks in the lower ninth ward of New Orleans working on rebuilding homes and recovery counseling. We'll see if it pans out...but I'm really excited about the prospect!

Looking forward to graduation, with the appropriate nostalgia of course (hey, it is me!).

Holy Week 09

2009-04-09T19:48:00.000-07:00

When I was eight I had a dream that I would die at 16.

At 16 someone did die...my straight cover, a claim to gender/sexual "normativity." I came out as gay. But something much truer and beautiful grew out of that death.

Going undercover to survive my first and most unwanted adolescence I came out again at 19 inside UC Davis's campus ministry. I also made a vow to never surgically alter my body and accept my femaleness.

Then Berkeley called and I read God In the Balance by Carter Heyward. I packed up my Aggie clothes and moved to the East Bay, leaving behind my ambitions to be a Music Historian or Composer.

Didn't know who this "Judith Butler" person was when she sub'd for Gayle Salamon at the end of my Junior year Queer Visual Cultures Class...why no one would speak to the laid back Professor in jeans and a t-shift in class that day. Looking at MDiv programs became my obsession...along with trying to avoid my gender questions.

CJ Pascoe's masculinities class reopened everything in a completely non-threatening, intellectual way. I think if it wasn't for her class and the Vagina Monologues, I'd still be struggling with pronouns and breasts. In a similar way Trinh Minh-ha's Identity Across Difference. Suddenly hiding my Cantonese background behind my Scottish/Irish/Welsh heritage seemed ludicruous. I am everything and nothing at once. It always seems that way. Hybrid that I am.

Tonight feet are washed, vigils begin for those who follow Christian traditions. I no longer count myself as a Christian, but there is still something very powerful to me about aspects of Holy Week. I think about Christ in the garden, very human pleading for his life, terrified about the known unknown and I can't help but find myself in the Passion Story. Asleep from exhaustion perhaps. Or sweating drops of blood from crying so many tears. It was one very long night of pain for him.

Gethsemane is very similar to the Jacob story from the Hebrew Bible. A man alone in the middle of the night, feeling very much at the end of his rope fighting for his life with a superior (masculine) divine figure. Neither leave the encounter completely intact. Perhaps with more resolve to do what they must. To face the responsibilities that they have been dreading. Jacob limps away with a wounded left hip. Jesus is exhausted from what is characterized as a futile prayer. Jacob must face his angry brother Esau. Jesus...well a lot of angry people out for blood.

Three years ago I was struggling with choosing between HDS and PSR. (ah seminary acronyms) This year I'm in a pickle around three doctoral programs: my desire to return to California and a school with strong ethnic studies but also to work with one of the greatest Trans Theorist/Historians ever. My clone and I always fast on Good Friday (I broke this tradition the day I started T two years ago). Something interesting always comes from this practice. I'm hoping that will be the case again.

After all, there always is something life transforming at the end of the story.

Current Book List

2009-03-23T00:09:00.000-07:00

Read since last in school:
a mercy
Decreation
Eros the Bittersweet
Talking Back
Invisible Cities
I'm Looking Through You

Currently Reading:
Economy of the Unlost
Genderqueer: voices from beyond the binary
(Dis)identifications
Orientations

To Read:
A Walk in the Woods
Dracula
The Descent of Alette
Read My Lips
This Bridge Called My Back
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

Time to Roam...

2009-02-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

On the heals of the break-up was news that I got into UCLA and Indiana University's Women and Gender Studies Doctoral Programs. Because of this I am spending a good part of the first and second weeks of March visiting Bloomington and LA. I have a six hour plane trip back from Indianapolis (due to layovers) that gets me into Boston at 11pm and then have a 7:50 am flight out of Logan the next morning to LA (luckily that one's a nonstop).

UCLA doesn't have anyone working on Trans Theory/Studies, but they have a fantastic Asian American Studies dept. Also the music history dept does a lot with gender and sexuality. I got a phone call from one of the Profs from the department and she suggested that I get the Trans Theory from USC (for those who don't know SUC is the cross-town rivals to UCLA and the bane of Cal's existence). Ah, the Trojans. I gotta say it's really tempting to spend the next 5-7 years in LA. It'd be nice to not be the only transman of color in the city. Since I know my big educational gap is in critical race theory, I know I could get that from UCLA. There are also the budget cuts to consider; the whole UC system (like everyone else) is going to be in spin cycle from the recession and the Govenator cutting off all state funds to the UCs. Haven't found out about funding yet. I axed UW because of their lack of financial support, thanks to Cali residency if I do have to pay out of pocket for a bit it's not going to be as bad as being out of state.

Indiana is the cutting edge program right now, they frame the dept on third wave feminist theory and put Trans experience at the heart of the program. Indiana also has a fabulous Religious Studies Department. But they are kinda weak in regards to Asian American Studies/Ethnic Studies. Also, I need a pretty hefty financial aid package to be a Hoosier next year. But the cost of living is fan-freaking-tastic in the Midwest. A lot will depend on what they plan on doing hiring-wise, financial aid and my impression on living in Bloomington 5+ years. It sounds like they are trying to get their grad students in and out fast, which is a plus in my book.

T asked me about my Summer plans, and a lot depends on getting a job. I found out that I can keep my barista job until the end of the year, which is great because right now finding a job with a commitment of 6 months is hard. I've made some inquiries and done some searches but most want a commitment of a year. All the temp jobs have pretty much vanished.

I'm also still kicking around the idea of working in New Orleans this Summer. It'll be tough to leave my queer family. That's going to be hard regardless. But I'm getting the itch to leave again. I have a lot less tying me to Boston and it's been no secret that I hate the weather here during the summer and when the temp drops below 30 degrees in the Winter. Sidewalk skating rinks suck. That said, Cambridge/Somerville has been more of my home then any other place for the last eight years if home is measured by years spent in a place. Also in regards to friendships, I have found a family and level of intimacy with my friends that I only had with Nina and Jen at Berkeley.

If I do get a job here, my plan is to work through August (hopefully extend my lease through then) and do some Dillon research on the side. Sept 1 pack up a u-haul and drive to Bloomington or LA. I'd like one last roadtrip to wherever is my spot for the next five years of my life.

butch-femme

2009-02-08T16:45:00.001-08:00

When pinocchio said,
“I want to be a real boy!”
What did he mean?
desiring soft flesh
instead of wood;
Stone.
Who was his femme?
Geopetto? The Blue Fairy?

What other way can you read this Tale of
becoming Real
legible, desired, human?

spectacle of Other embodiment:
the entertaining little wooden boy barely loose of themastersstrings
Seen only by a Lady in Blue
or a gentle older Cisman.

All those books...

2009-02-05T16:22:00.000-08:00

I never read but wanted to. Since finishing two weeks ago I have read:
a mercy, Toni Morrison
Decreation, Anne Carson

Currently reading:
Talking back, bell hooks
Invisible Cities, Italo Calvino

Next:
Prodigal Summer, Barbara Kingslover
Economy of the Unlost, Anne Carson
Eros: The Bittersweet, Anne Carson
Orientations, Compilation
(Dis)identifications, Jose Munoz

Break Up Music

2009-01-25T13:02:00.000-08:00

The Cripple and the Starfish, Antony and the Johnsons

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbG2MfElkVc

Samson, Regina Spektor

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1283668

Goodbye Love; Thanks Phoebe

2009-01-23T21:52:00.000-08:00

New Year Thoughts

2009-01-08T11:11:00.000-08:00

I think it's time to reassess. I haven't written in this for a while.

Struggling with how personal to be on this...I guess I made this my transition journal so I'll try and stick to only queer and tranny things (which may of course be one and the same).

There is still residue from last year. I mean more then scars and friendships.
A paper I still need to write that is still traumatizing in it's content. Don't have to write it of course, but I do think I can do better.

For any FTM out there reading this, writing about Boys Don't Cry before top surgery when your family (if they haven't abandoned you) is falling to pieces around you is not the best idea. And trying to write about the same topic over winter break (in my blood family Christmas) the next year is not any easier. Esp if you are in a new relationship and gender stuff is complicated.

Milk was horrible. It displayed a lot of the racism and xenophobia rampant in the A list crowd of the gay and lesbian community. Diego Luna's character was composed of every terrible Latino stereotype imaginable. Penn's Milk said great lines to his white ex-lover about Luna's character like "It's ok, when I go home from work I don't have to think." and "he's taking english classes, so he's getting better." Urgh. I really hope it flops at the Acads. Brokeback Mountain was so much better.

This last topic is difficult to write about, esp. since I meant to tell my gf this last night and didn't. I'm thinking about bottom surgery. It's probably at least 3-4 years out (probably way more), because it's damn expensive and right now I'm really worried how I'm going to get through the month. But it's come to the point where either T has to go or I need to "mutilate my body" again. There's too much pain to write here, but lets just say I've felt more like a freak in the last two months then I have since I lost my virginity. Esp when having sex.

I don't know how I'm going to live the rest of my life like this. I hate public restrooms. I hate turkey basters. I feel hand tied and scared. I hate questions about "transitioning back" (as if there's only two genders to live in) when I talk about stopping T. I hate it when old "friends" ask me what sexual orientation my girlfriend is. To them I'm not a "real man" unless I'm "with a woman" who must be straight. This hurts because not only does it delegitimate queer transguys, and cite horribly misogynist gender histories of women "making" men, but by implication they are saying that queer women aren't "real women."
Like Susan Stryker said in "My Words to Victor Frankenstein" gender is violent. And the continual process of being gendered by one's partners and choices to make visible (or invisible) one's gender identity is so god damn violent.

I don't know if I should just be single my whole life. I think her life would be easier without me. I feel that who I am is just doing violence to her and everyone she's loved. I'm afraid of turning into too much of a "breeder" for her taste.

Chest, one year later

2009-01-08T10:19:00.000-08:00

First anniversary of top surgery. Swelling is gone and still have the remnants of the hematoma on the right side. Fischer was amazing, but I agree that she doesn't make you as flat as Menard in Montreal. Still, after all the panic of last fall trying to get everything in line I had a (dare I say it?) fun time in Baltimore.

Nostalgia

2008-05-17T20:11:00.000-07:00

It's the midst of finals week. EDS already had it's graduation last Thursday. Since I didn't know a lot of last year's class and Amy and I were about to take off for a cross-country roadtrip last year I was anticipating the end of schoolwork.

But this year I get to be one of the one's left behind. And let me tell you it sucks. When I graduated from Berkeley I kept thinking how happy I was that I wasn't taking an extra semester. Mostly because you have to remember all the people you used to talk to in all of their old haunts.

So nostalgia hits you like a mack truck, and I know I've been grieving my friends leaving since Spring Break. It's odd how finals begin and then graduation happens so quickly. You see someone briefly and wonder if that's the last time you'll see them. And maybe you didn't get especially close to them but they were a regular face and aquaintance in your life. You got used to their smile their voice saying your name. You both laughed at a certain joke during orientation. Or maybe you pulled metal poles out of the ground with him.

Well to avoid anymore of this sob story I'm making my Summer Reading List:
1. The Amber Spyglass
2. Black Skin, White Masks
3. The Last Battle
4. The Metamorphoses
5. This Bridge Called My Back
6. The Great Deluge
7. The Gita Govinda
8. Laura Nee Michael
9. Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?

Summer Movie/TV Watching List:
1. Prince Caspian
2. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
3. The Dark Knight
4. When Harry Met Sally
5. Stagecoach
6. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
7. The Neverending Story
8. The Muppet Show Season Two

How I hate saying goodbye.

What (Goe)s in(to Choosing) a Name?

2008-03-08T18:22:00.000-08:00

Because I'm two weeks away from my one year anniversary as Jacob, I thought I'd post some of the other names I considered:

1. Harry. As in Harry Potter...yes I am a freak. Given my last name I think this wouldn't have worked. Plus as my twin pointed out it makes you think of "hairy" which I have become, but that's not quite what I was going for. She still gets a laugh out of thinking I might have been Harry/Hairy Lau.

2. Scott. I've always really liked the name. But I'm not a Scott.

3. Judas (Jude for short). Let's just say Jesus Christ Superstar really made an impression on me. In high school I hated how much Judas Iscariot was demonized, both in classes and in the Bible. I tend to side with the underdogs. My EDS friends voted for Jude and (surprise, surprise) were not thrilled with Judas. This was my third choice for a name.

4. Gabriel. Ok these are sounding ultra Christian, but for the record this was what my best buddy/hall mate April really wanted my name to be. She thought I could have been a Gabe. I was a bit apprehensive about being associated with an angel. This was my fourth choice for a name.

5. Gene. This was the spelling of my grandmother's version of my birth name. Ironically it's also traditionally the "more male" spelling. I seriously debated this name more then the others. I thought I could both keep and reclaim my birth name. But the history of abuse tied to this name got to be too much for me. I wanted a name of my own with a narrative that didn't have so much historical victimization. I thought somehow I could transform Gene...but it seemed better to leave that with the memories of my Grandmother.

6. Elwood. I know this makes most people think of the Blues Brothers. I pondered this one because it's a family name and I liked that it means "old forest."

7. Robin. A gender neutral name and I liked Robin Hood growing up. ;) But I wanted a clearly male name in the end. Plus my middle name begins in a similar way and that would have made my full name sound weird.

Others considered very briefly: Thomas, Moses.

Mass HB 1722

2008-03-03T21:46:00.000-08:00

Today is a huge day for Trans Equality in Massachusetts. If you are in the Boston Area come to the state house at 1 pm and show your support for House Bill 1722 "An Act Relative to Gender-Based Discrimination and Hate Crimes." This is just like changing the non-discrimination code at Harvard except much, much bigger.

Coming from California where I didn't have to think about basic non-discrimination issues at all, I think it's about time that Massachusetts had gender identity and expression covered.

In other news healing from surgery is going well...I have a sizeable hematoma under my right nipple that hurts (and unfortunately looks like I'm growing a breast)...but I was told that this should vanish in about four more weeks. If it doesn't by then I'll have to get a revision (which will be a few years out since it's expensive).

Some pics of healing thus far:
1/30/08

2/22/08

New Year, New Chest

2008-01-02T20:30:00.000-08:00

My Top surgery is a little over five days away. Time for some new years resolutions to ring in 08.

1) Call my (Berkeley) mother.

2) Lift 2-3 times per week.

3) Tell and show the people who I love that I love them.

4) Walk for a few hours 3-4 times per week, and start training for Half Dome in March once my chest has healed enough.

5) Help out with the service trip to New Orleans and try to make inroads to move there after graduation.

6) Reach out to the family members who have been supportive to me. Let go of those who don't and won't respect me for who I am. It's been way too painful trying to be in "relationship"
with people who treat me like an alien and only communicate with me because I'm a blood relative. I don't have to save face for the sake of the family because no matter what I do my parents have made it obvious that they're pretty disgusted with me (esp. my mom) and would have nothing to do with me if I hadn't been born their daughter. I don't think I'll be visiting them in California for a long while.

7) Legally change my name and gender.

8) Work music back into my life.

9) Try to find other service opportunities in the Boston Area (maybe volunteer at the Living Center or Cambridge Cares).

10) Get my social life back.

11) Take time out to meditate and be.

Poetic Renderings

2007-11-09T19:56:00.000-08:00

Ocean Springs

At twelve oaks I was renamed.
Blessed by 32 hands, some biting gnats and one playful Airedale.
Not kicking, struggling, gripping by the wrist;
the ankle. No Esau to usurp. i was my own Laban
supplanting the Bean which never grew stalk.
But meanwhile;
I yanked out the roots,
willing the end of destruction even while
I destroyed.

On Good Friday I was rebirthed.
Surrounded by the beauty of a family beyond blood.
Claiming my eunuch-hood, awaiting the needle.
My entry way, birth pain through the hip.
Held in the silent circle willing to wait up the extra hour, overcome with anxiety and joy.

-4/6/07

I pass because
I have to.
(Do I really pass?)
Pass, such an oddity (I am).
Pass into male out of female,
Passerby looks:
-first, at the front
-next, the face
-finally (if interested) the crotch

I thought about it again today
leaving my binders, wearing a bra.
Not as a political statement or to
genderfuck the pass-(h)er-bys.
(This thought makes me smile)
Simply,
to breathe.
Out, In-hale.
No more lyrca, spandex or velcro;
elastic lines etched into
reddened skin.
I will have red skin soon enough.
A permanent (in)visible bra, binding skin to muscle,
encircling my areolas.
And I wonder,
does that really make me male?
Or do the scars really make the
pass-(h)er-bys more comfortable?
As they pass him by.

-9/ 07

What it feels like to be hapa me

You didn't
want this: the yellow mixed with
the White.
You'll never say
this; miscegenation.

I didn't want "this" either: my mixed race. But
Your eyes staring. Orientalism.
Being told that my almondshapedeyesmustmeanthatI'mJapaneseor
Mexican. I was an
"exotic female"
Polynesian looking. I had a round face,
small muscular waist.

Now I am "like chocolate cake" to the rice queens. When
You look for It tomorrow
the ricebowl will be cleared.
And you
won't
get
one
bite.

-11/8/07

Adam's Rib

did he missher when she came
out of
hisside?
were there unrecorded scars? silent, unspoken.
Fig or Apple is there a difference?
the guilt is just the same;
clothing, breast, color, scent.
he was only sleeping(it was only a rib)
dreaming of what he could never know;
childless birth(er)
while She, fully conscious,
watched his pale blue lips.

-10/28/07

Countdown to Top Surgery

2007-11-06T11:49:00.000-08:00

http://www.makecountdowns.com/show.php?id=97468

It's gonna be a happy new year.
Whoo-Hoo!!

FTI

2007-10-06T16:36:00.001-07:00

I think the time has come for me to admit something. Something that won't be popular to a lot of FTMs but is very real experience for me.

I feel more and more intersex then male. Honestly all that t has done is make me more aware of how I am not like men then am of the male category. The urges I have sexually don't correspond with the equipment I have.
I joined the yahoo group FTMsex to talk about issues of sexuality within the transmale community. It is open to FTM loving partners (of all genders) as well as transmen. A recent discussion has been around the feeling of not being male the longer one is on T. An older FTM recently posted that while phallioplasty helped with this discrepancy he did feel more and more like a eunuch or intersex the longer he was on testosterone, to the point where he was pretty depressed.

Now it is true that I've always never felt like a woman or female, but I know now that I don't really feel like I'll ever be male either. I don't align with either prototype (mythic gender/sex norms that they are) of the binary. But to exist as a person one has to align themselves at one point or another. Over the last few weeks this tension has been building and this Friday it came to a maddening breaking point. How can I as a person who does not embody either gender psychically or (ever will) physically feel that my path must be from one side of a gender/sex line to the other? Will I imprison myself on the male side? How do I keep my past gender/sex within my present?

I am frustrated by the labels/narratives/boxes others have put me in during this process. One of my hallmates, someone I've told numerous times that I want to keep my vagina (and am damn proud of it) recently got wasted "she"d me without any thought and repeatedly told me that I haven't found my voice yet. I was angry, hurt and pissed. I was scared because this is someone I've asked to go to Maryland with me in January. I was irritated that someone would think a man can't have a vagina.

Yet at the same time my parent's letters to me at the beginning of this process have been slowly beating into permanent soundings in my head. "No matter what you do to mess with your body's chemistry or how much you look like a man, you will always be a woman in a man's body." Ah biological essentialism, how I cannot escape you. As much as I detest the phallic obsession of Freud it seems to be the first marker of masculinity in this culture, ridden down even into the substance I inject into my thigh every 14 days.

And so this is my quandary, to shape myself as a man loosing my hair, gaining weight, putting myself on the path of early stroke and heart disease, loosing my 20/20 vision. Only to be told I will never reach that point in which I am supposedly striving for. The ever illusive manhood that seems to be an obsession in both the straight and FTM community. But this is not my goal...I have deceived myself and my friends if this has been the understanding.

What I am trying to do is to become myself, who I am in accordance with my gender identity. And my gender identity I have come to realize is not what is programed into T. It is not the biological blueprint of maleness involving a penis (unless that penis is a dildo). I have never desired those bits, testosterone does drive one to obsess about penetration. This has frustrated me.

So I have realized that I may give up testosterone sometime in the near future. I have to for surgery anyway so my month long break may be extended. I have always wanted a male upper body (including the beard) and female lower body (minus the menstruation). I have wanted to be treated like a woman, but physically made up like a man. Being an FTM results in this, except one is forcibly socialized like a man. In a way I guess I have always wanted most to be like a modern day eunuch, the go between of gendered spaces, taking a place in both and yet neither. If I were to strip in public anyone who read my body would see that this is most definitely the case. But clothing reinscribes the binary, it saves me from violence even as it masks my bodily reality.

Whoa, hair!

2007-07-23T23:25:00.000-07:00

My voice has finally become noticeably lower. Alex pointed this out to me during the first day of work, but now when I speak I don't have to make an effort to make it go down. Travis confirmed my low voice after I picked up the Deathly Hallows on Friday night/Saturday morning. It's funny cause for the folks I haven't outed myself to I have to make an effort to sound like female.

I feel like I'm turning into a werewolf or a combination of Kenny (body hair-wise) and Dad (veins sicking out of my tanned hands, dandruff, and voice-wise) except with a little pot-belly. (It's weird having love handles when you never had them before) I'm trying to combat the fat redistribution with weights and walking more often. Also trying to eat more fruit, protein, fiber and veggies. I'm developing forearms. The hair on the upper knuckles of my hands are turning darker and wiry. My pubic hair is starting to head north towards my navel and spreading south along the insides of my upper thighs. My kneecaps are almost completely covered with brown fur. It's almost like I'm growing a winter coat. Luckily I won't get any chest or back hair (it's not in my genes) I think my face is starting to change a bit too. Not much as changed on the facial hair front. Shot #8 is tomorrow.

I am really grateful to Alex for helping me get a job. My boss has been awesome calling me Jacob and using the right pronouns in large part to Alex doing both from the get go. It's been a really good experience so far.

I might try to post some pics of the physical changes I've experienced. (nothing too graphic of course)

Changes

2007-07-05T13:04:00.000-07:00

Getting hair on the back of my legs and kneecaps. The veins on top of my hands have grown and are sticking out more. The fat around my knees has thinned out some so now my legs are becoming more defined. I feel like the hair on my head is thinning out too (unfortunately). The last two times I got a haircut I haven't asked for my hair to be thinned because I haven't needed too.

I've been trying to lift weights every other day and walk about more. I got my blood work results back and everything cholesterol-wise is better then before T which is wonderful. But I've gotta keep track of all that.

I had a long talk with SKimmel about how different it feels to take on a male social role. I didn't feel it so much around Amy, but around everyone else in the family. Trying to learn what it means to be a son or little brother because whether I wanted to acknowledge it at first or not my family is beginning to treat me differently. It's a step in the right direction, but sometimes I feel frustrated that I should be treated differently then I was as female.

Since starting T I don't pass as often, and I've been wondering why that is. It may because I'm growing into my body and while everything feels more comfortable I don't really feel at home yet. Physiological ways I've reacted to certain situations have surprised me. Bodily movement is different then a few months ago. My always somewhat hairy upper lip has gotten darker and thicker showing the beginning signs of a mustache. My five pound dumbbells feel like one pound. And it is true that some days you wake up and some marker of femininity has been erased from your face. Something you didn't notice before. I think I may have eased into passing as male easily before because while my body didn't feel in line with my gender identity, I knew how to work it to make it act and be read as masculine. Trying to readjust constantly is a lot of work when you're also trying to pass.

Thoughts from traveling transamerica (Epiphanies interspersed with banalities)

2007-06-27T22:44:00.000-07:00

*Warning: This blog is rated R for some honest facts about the effects of Testosterone on the body*

1. Transitioning sucks. It is definitely not for the faint of heart. My face broke out like the Rocky Mountains after shot #5 (just in time to return home). Thank God for Salicylic Acid. On top of breaking out, until the Testosterone reaches the gender no man's land or male levels (no pun intended) one still bleeds every month. Albeit about two weeks later then normal. I knew this going into the beginning of transitioning but it's different when you're in the middle of it.

2. As vain as it is seeing new puny black (or whatever color your future beard is) hairs growing out of your face is thrilling. I hope I didn't drive Amy too crazy about this on the road (I stopped mentioning it, but did keep searching my face). It's interesting that hair grew in faster on the left side of my face. Now I have one big black hair that was growing a bit before T really growing off the right side of my chin. Anyway.

3. It's wonderful to have supportive, loving siblings who are very different from you. I'm really lucky to be in a family with two other kumbyah types. This one was a no brainer. I really like travelling with Amy and Kenny individually almost more so then as a group. It was good to finally travel/hike with just the three criminals.

4. I am really glad I never read The Testosterone Files before starting T. I never would have started it. It was a good read, but man Max spoke about things that would have scared the living shit out of me. Mostly in regards to his sex drive, aggression and solidified belief in the gender binary. He acts like an asshole a lot of the time and calls it getting in touch with his "primal masculinity." But it was good to read about another guy's experience with T.

5. I am perfectly fine with never seeing Aunt Nancy or Mary again.

6. I don't know what the hell I'm doing at HDS. Besides all of the amazing people, religious studies is really not my thing. Sometimes I worry that the only reason I'm here is to transition in a ultra supportive environment, and I can't justify that idea.

7. What I really want to do is move to NYC and intern at The Center's Gender Identity Program after I graduate. I've always wanted to go to New York and I think this may be my opportunity. Plus I'll still have access to good health care trans-wise while making a difference for trans folks.

8. I'm queer. If queerness is more then just you want to sleep with your own gender, I am damn queer. This trip taught me I'll probably always be read as a sensitive, small man (which often translates to gay). Besides, I enjoy a lot of things my queer guyfriends do that are pretty stereotypically gay. I turned to Amy at one point and said "minus the dressing well, Mom raised us to be gay boys." I have told Amy for a while now that I have been attracted to a few queer guys in the past, so I wouldn't write off being with someone who really clicks with me and identifies as male in the future.

9. California will always be my first and true love/home. There was something tangible in the air when Amy and I crossed the boarder, she even mentioned it. We both visibly relaxed and I loosened up in a way I hadn't the whole trip. Sunnyvale in the summer time with its ever so slight humidity and the smells of BBQs going, freshly cut grass and flowers blooming leaves me feeling immersed in some magical time warp to summer reading at the public library, watching the Giants while sweating our heads off, swimming and SPUD in the backyard with Ken. In a lot of ways my favorite part of the trip was pulling into the driveway of 686 Erie Drive and finding my sun bleached green room waiting for me.

10. Travis is getting really old and as odd as this may sound so is my Dad. It's strange how watching the family dog age makes you realize how fast life is moving. Now almost completely white Travis's face is still perky and alert. Although his eyes didn't look as cloudy as Amy made them sound while we were on the road I can sense that he is loosing his sight. I can't imagine our family without Travis. My Dad turned 60 in May and I wish I could have been there. I wonder what it is like to learn you have a son you never knew at that age.

11. Amy and I asked each other which place we'd most like to live in out of all the cities we visited on the trip. I told her Boston, MA.

12. Sometimes I really wish I could spend half the month as male and the other half as female. Just like the half month-er pandaka. Most of the time all I really would like to do is disappear or become invisible. Neither male nor female. Could I just exist as a soul? Then when my body finally looks masculine enough to pass I could take on fleshly form again. I feel like Amy understands this desire the best of all.

13. This trip made glaringly obvious when I passed and didn't pass by people asking if we were "together" as either lesbians or a heterocouple (which was disturbing to both of us). Either that or people were so confused/scared about my unreadable gender that they refused to acknowledge my existence (which royally pissed Amy off). Usually this reaction was coupled with some thirty something guy hitting on Amy (which made her royally uncomfortable and pissed me off). At Orlando before Red shirt Day one of the taxi guys asked if we were brother and sister. We both smiled. He got it.

14. Greasy southern food gives you gas. The "Hollywood Diner" from the drive back to Atlanta from the Smokys confirmed this. Enough said.

15. Cliff Bars for breakfast and lunch save you a TON of money.

16. Hiking 13 miles in sandals along the lip of the Grand Canyon with Amy is probably the one thing I will never forget. Very few people were on the trail, especially once the sun started going down (hell the trail was hardly marked) which made it even better. Gorgeous.

17. If you are a feminist you should see Wicked. Actually everyone should see Wicked.

18. Teenage guys sleep in their briefs for a reason. Certain areas get really tender when they start growing. It makes for some uncomfortable nights when even sleeping shorts or pj bottoms are "too short". I wish some transguy (or any guy for that matter) told me this before T.

Summer Reading List

2007-05-21T11:01:00.000-07:00

1. Interpreter of Maladies

2. Undoing Gender (I kinda read most of this in the library the other day, but I'd like to really read the parts I skimmed)

3. (all the Potters and then...) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

4. The Wretched of the Earth

5. Orlando

6. Middlesex

7. Black Skin, White Masks

8. Ulysses (I've finished part one then Summer ended last year and I can't wait to pick it back up...Joyce deprivation this year.)

9. At Swim, Two Boys (I may be done after this one...it's really long. Although not as long as Ulysses)

10. The Transgender Studies Reader (yeah I am a nerd...but I love the stuff...and I'm excited that this was compiled in the last year.)

Almost Done

2007-05-21T10:43:00.000-07:00

My shot is now every two weeks. Since I'm on a quater dose the changes have been slow...a little hair on the back of my thighs, on my right wrist. And it was a big deal when two weeks ago I saw eight scraggly black hairs growing out of my chin. Still it's bizzare how exciting eight tiny hairs are...especially when you've spent five hours in the library writing papers.

I'm leaving for a massive roadtrip across the US (southern route) on Saturday with my awesome clone. It's the first time we've hung out since our birthday at the beginning of march so it'll be a lot of catching up. Amy's been running around following UCLA softball and joined a local women's softball league with is cool. We've both been looking for jobs to start once this trip is over...but right now I've gotta finish one more exegesis paper and Hinduism final. I really love all of the Hindu mythology...there's plenty of interesting gendered theology inside of it.

This semester has convinced me that process thought works the best within Buddhist theology. I've also spent a considerable amount of time with the idea of the third sex/gender in the contested figures of the pandaka/Mike Dillon and the first century eunuch. Which has been amazing, there's so many similiarites in two completely different contexts. The reality of Trans folks gives bodies to often theoretical categories, sparks reactions to intersex and trans bodies which often renders bodies allegorical or places the uncategorizable into a system of dualities. Damn dualities...I've come to the conclusion that categories are important for rights (political, being recognized as a subject and such) even though they often become oppressive and later need to be undone. But such is the way of naming I guess.

Anyway, writing too many papers will do this to you. I can't wait to see my clone. But first I've gotta survive the last of papers/finals. I've made an Ocean Springs/New Orleans soundtrack to keep me movtivated. Journey, indigo girls, girlyman, the supremes, RENT, Wilco, Postal Service, Louis Armstrong and Death Cab are featured.

Ouch and Easter

2007-04-08T20:50:00.000-07:00

I hate drama and feeling happy/in pain at the same time. The worst part is watching everyone else involved feeling the same way. Or even worse, not knowing what is going on.

This weekend was amazing on so many fronts. I'm exhausted and have to give a presentation tomorrow. The shot was easy, I really don't feel any changes, although my voice cracked twice today...but it has been doing that sporadically since adolescence. (Ah the thrills of having a low female voice) 50 milligrams is such a tiny dose.

It was good to talk with my brother this week (via AIM), I'm glad he called when he read the name change on my facebook profile. I feel like the best way to negotiate this situation is setting healthy boundaries with my siblings and then with my parents. My Dad emailed me with to wish me a happy Easter and fill me in on some of the things he's doing. That made my day. I also called home and got the message machine to wish the fam. happy Easter. I kinda miss LAUMC's sunrise service and the Easter brunch tradition. But I had a wonderful time with Keith and Marcel today...and Toby and Eleanor tonight.

Pooped but Pumped

2007-03-31T20:13:00.000-07:00

The HDS Service trip was beyond comprehension. I really feel like I've come home. I can't imagine a better Spring Break. My room is eerily silent.

This Friday I start T.

Shake and Bake. Whack and Rake.

T Update (not the hot drink type)

2007-03-19T21:09:00.000-07:00

Friday is a big day for me T wise...I'm not starting but I will find out whether I can start on Good Friday like I've discussed with my therapist. I've been green lighted by her, and she doesn't see any reason why my primary won't do the same. We shall see.

In other news my non-bio Mom from Berk visited me this weekend, which rocked over Boston, Chicago, Heinz it's America's favorite ketchup. (If you know either of us you'll know the great musician I'm referencing) My former roommie said I need to rent the documentary on the Lost Boys of Sudan. It's on the list!

I leave for Louisiana this Saturday on the Div School's Service trip and looking forward to it. Just hope there aren't any airport issues with me not looking like my ID. It'll be warm while we're there, and interesting to see how the aftermath of Katrina/the failed Levees still affects folks down there.

Need to call the folks back home and get a haircut. Wish I could somehow see Cait and Aimers over Spring Break, oh well there's only so much a tranny boy can do...

Coming out as an act of faith: or finding my lost Y

2007-02-23T10:33:00.000-08:00

(I wrote the following piece for HDS's Queer Spirituality Zine last fall during National Coming Out Week)

It was the mirror that I faced, accountable to the child before me. he looked at me with pleading eyes and I knew right then that before his pain there was my own. For I was he. Would he be I? And I realized that only I could answer his question.

I wonder what happened to my lost Y. Was there a typing error? An alphabet soup scramble? I mean they’re so close X&Y. I waited, breath held. Stood in front of a mirror at five years old, hair pulled back behind my head with one hand, imagining how I’d look as a boy. Once when I sneaked a peek into my older brother’s health class book I read about kids who were both male and female. Maybe I’m one of them. Maybe God made a mistake. There were miracles in the Bible. So while my friends were praying for ponies or a trip to Disneyland I began praying to God to make me intersex or a boy.

When my twin and I would play pretend I was always a boy; I had a name and a personality which was somewhat different then “Jeanie” and in many ways was more authentic. Whenever my parents would enter the room there was an unspoken rule to snap back to “reality.” Playtime always ended too soon. In a way childhood afforded me the space to live in two genders and I hoped that when the hormones hit my body would reflect my “imagined” boyhood. But all that happened was disappointment, pain and confusion. I still remember the feeling of doom that came with my first period. I couldn’t avoid it now. My body wasn’t my own. Or at least it wasn’t becoming what I felt internally. Everyone at school was celebrating adolescence with bras and clothes and I just wanted to turn back the clock. At 14 I decided that some miracles could never happen, and I was meant to learn how to be female.

So I became invisible. I wore my brother’s hand me downs, long hair and became the quiet sweet kid in the back of the classroom. I wrote music and gave my favorite English teacher roses after I graduated. All I wanted was Shelbie Koch to notice me. To be able to wear cargo pants and go shirtless in the Summer. To sport a five o’clock shadow when I couldn’t get around to shaving in the morning. The worst were the school dances. Being shoved into a dress with makeup and the two hours it took to make my thick dark hair behave, I felt like I was in drag. One of my good friends made the wise observation, “Wow, you look…really uncomfortable.” Walking in high heels was awkward and all I wanted to do was hide in the bathroom. My mother was hoping that a few outings in dresses and some compliments would straighten her “tomboy” out.

But the opposite effect was produced; I came out as gay. I still remember the mourning in my mother’s voice as we sat in our rusty Oldsmobile wagon and her seemingly random question, “So do you want a sex change?” Quickly assuring her and myself that I was comfortable in my body I shoved that suggestion into the far reaches of my mind.

A year later I left my conservative Christian high school and entered the collegiate queer community. Quickly I began identifying as “woman oriented” because although I did not completely admit it I never really felt like a woman. I mean I loved the Indigo Girls, became vegetarian and cut off my hair….but cutting my hair wasn’t enough. It was the tip of the gender trouble iceberg. Folks were reading me as a butch lesbian when really that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The women I was with would get frustrated at my lack of aggressiveness and tough attitude. I tried to become something I wasn’t again because I felt guilty for wanting to change genders. As if I was betraying the very people who opened their arms to me. Am I misogynist for feeling like a guy? Why can’t I just learn how to be a butch lesbian? Do I have to give up being queer if I become a woman oriented transman? I’ve been called “fag” more times then I can count, but I have yet to be called “dyke”. I think the people who yelled those hateful remarks were more clued in about my gender identity then I admitted.

I still remember the transgender 101 speaker who came to my undergrad’s campus two years ago. Hearing him talk about the diversity within gender identity and expression struck a chord in me. And then came the part about transitioning and my heart started pounding: testosterone, top and bottom surgery, could this really be possible? I left early to attend my campus ministry meeting with questions I hadn’t allowed myself to ask surfacing in my mind.

Then came the Vagina Monologues. I watched the bravery of a classmate as he shared his past struggle, pain, and future hope. He became a friend and unknowingly blessed me on the final leg of my coming out journey. Amidst a community of gender violence fighters I realized that it was time to stop doing violence to myself. And now that I am 3,099 miles from Berkeley, California I find myself taking the next step along the path of reconciling outside with inside, past with present. Today I am coming out as a transgender man.

It is often said that coming out is a political act, but to me it is more then just that; it is a spiritual one. It is a way of reclaiming what has been lost or hidden and proclaiming what should be celebrated and affirmed instead of shunned. It is an act of vulnerability, of trust, of faith. It is an acknowledgment of the work ahead, process of becoming, excitement, patience and perseverance. It is a sharing, a rebirth, a step in finding my lost Y.

Mi Nombre

2006-12-31T13:51:00.000-08:00

That name
In your voice suddenly recalls
hot tears, warmth, strength, touch, sadness, laughter and yes even the alluded magic I had
purposefully forgotten.

And the time between who I was, who I am, who I will be – merges.
For the gap of an hour and twenty-three minutes.
And I wonder what happened…

His-story: I was born. I and my mirror image. We danced and I put him away. The rainbows dazzled my eyes and I thought he’d stay away for good. But everytime I should have felt rainbows there he was instead. And when I looked in the mirror I kept waiting for him to reappear. So now he has reared his head again, and it’s ugly to remember that you’ve never met him. But you’ve known him all along. I knew somewhere you’d come into the story.

Her-story: I was born. I and my mirror image. We danced and she put me away. I watched the colors entice her and felt her rejection. But I knew that the unintentional invitation would always come. She’d unlock the door; being surprised and relived to find me. Standing, waiting, knowing. Too many tears. Knowing the I was really i was Thou. And the fact that you knew me without any name made it that much easier, that much more difficult.

We talk. Or rather I talk. And –ie tells me to shut up. I see the other side of the mirror, and learn how much I’ve forgotten myself. I wanted adolescence so badly I forgot adulthood. And when we talk I remember why I wanted adulthood. You have always been dealt a lower hand then you deserve. But I cannot tell you that now. I did, I would have once but I lost part of you then, and I don’t want to loose the rest of you now.

I am proud of you. I knew then that I’d be proud of you regardless. But that’s not an empty pride. It’s the pride of knowing, seeing, believing, loving. I feel like a mother (an odd thing to say from me). The older sibling I never was. I hurt that you accept your cards so often, when they aren’t worth your time. But that’s also why I love you, because you see in totality and love in totality. You always did that. (You even did that to me!) And I know it’s useless to tell you otherwise. Besides who am I to speak? It’s never easy to be dealt a new hand.

We are not so different you and I. We love differently perhaps, but not fundamentally. We hurt, run in opposite circles as we’re told. But when I hear you and when I speak I know it’s all a myth. But you’ve known that all along; that’s why you were the first to speak.

I hear the change in your voice, and your eyes are different too. They’re older, experienced direct with less naïveté. Well naïveté isn’t the right word. You’ve never been naïve. On the contrary, you’ve grown up faster then most people I know. In that way you always reminded me of sister. Perhaps it has something to do with being the oldest. I like the change. Expected it to be there, would have been disappointed frankly if it wasn’t there. And if you ask my family, I’ve never been big on change. It means you’ll surprise me, as you always have. And I love to be surprised by you.

I didn’t tell you about my lost Y. I stalled like when I wanted to tell you about rainbows. Am I ashamed? When I’m with you I remember how close we both were to our mothers. And when I return home it’s painful to see the gap between she and I. And I can’t bring myself to tell you about that. I feel like a failure, of –ie. Perhaps that’s all that Jean is; leaving out the best parts of a former self. A childish reinvention of a beloved woman, my mother’s mother.

But these things you do not need to know, so I do not tell you them now. But I instead I talk too much, about past loves and hurts women with whom I danced ungracefully. Trying post-high school divas everyone knew was wrong for me. The Dianas who love, but love the mirror more. And in the process I began to love the mirror too. You say you’re in and out with a man who love’s the mirror, and I wonder if that’s the way of things. We think that it’s all we’ll ever see and so learn to love what’s in front of us even while we know it hurts, and then it becomes familiar. Therein the danger lies.

I remember who I was and in that space who I wanted to become. And when I’m with you I still want to become that being. With the others it’s always been a Hollywood image of “perfection.” But all you want is a friend. A good, funny, kind, understanding, honest, loyal friend. No political, religious or social agenda. Just a friend. You turn off the floodlights, remove the make up, take away the script and remind me it’s not a performance. I’m not the author. I’m just Jean(ie).

Reflections on a Childhood Book in Regards to this Week

2006-12-06T18:56:00.000-08:00

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for alwaysAs long as I'm living my baby you'll be..."
Really? I wonder if the mom in this story ever thought about her child being trans (or anything outside of their own expectations)...Why is it assumed that it's a good thing for mothers to always think of their children as babies? What happens once that baby voices somthing the mother never suspected...is the child any less deserving of her love and respect? Where is the other parent/partner in this story? Just about every girl in my 5th grade class memorized this book for Speech meet (I did some poem by Edgar A. Guest) and everyone seemed to agree that it was somehow emblematic of what the mother-child relationship should be...I always felt kind of unnerved by it.
And some of the correspondences I've had this week make me wonder about this more. I feel like I've been erased (or at least that my parents feel as though they have to erase some of the happy parts of my childhood in order to meet this new stranger into their family) even while I've been in the center of my parents' thoughts. I want to tell them that I'm still here with all of my past (the happiness, pain, laughter etc.). And I don't intend on leaving. But I know this isn't true to their experience. It's shown me how tough it is to hear your child say they are now identifying with a part of a community you know next to nothing about personally. I read what they've written and get the picture of drowing...being thrown in the midst of something without an anchor. A lot of what I've realized is that my parents don't really know me...they've latched onto the most visible characteristics that they delt with four years ago...or they know the Jean that plays into the familial roles that we all fall into even if we've outgrown them. The one time they've seen me consistently is in that role which is something I've spent less and less time in since leaving for college.
In high school my parents used to say I wasn't "myself" and since coming to college they say they've seen more of "me" then they have in a long time. It's tough to say but have they considered the fact that this is because I've recieved the chance to find out and express "myself" without having to pretend? The relm of pretend was always the most deeply personal (and taboo) in my childhood. I had my boyhood there. I loved girls there. My twin and I established our unspoken truths about who we loved and were in essence. I've realized that in so many ways my twin has been my secret keeper (well really the family's secret keeper) in a really unfair way. I wish she could be free of our family somehow...as harsh as that sounds. I've taken her love and listening ear for granted too many times, so I've made a pact to consciously listen to her more and draw conscious bondaries. I think bringing pretend into reality is hard for a lot of people especially if it's associated with otherness or something that might make loving you harder to do openly without rejection from people you love or society at large. Realizing that claiming my transness and deciding to transition involved a lot of painful soul searching...but I feel like the final pretend is out in the open and like a newly born being I'm blinded by the world around me...seeing the world anew. Not a lot of it is what I'd call "pretty." I'm guessing this is what it's like for my whole family.
In the most painful moments of these last bunch of months I've told myself that I should keep my transmale identity in the place of pretend. I see my life staying female. I've talked to other women who identify more as men then butch and never transitioned or idenify as trans...but later in the conversation they tell me they're proud of being butch. I've always felt inherently male and never butch. It's never been about sexual orientation. And there's times when I feel like I owe it to my parents. Maybe I can skip hormones and surgery...but then I'll still have to come out to every potential partner as trans. It's true that whoever I'm with will have to love me as a transman. But that it's self is a form of pretend. One that's been rapidly eating away at me...I feel so selfish about this half the time. Do I owe it to my parents to not transition? Or wait? Does "we want you to be yourself" have the connotation "as long as we think it won't hurt you"? Will coming out be a joyful experience one day? A rebirth, painful yet exciting...a place in which questions, unknowingness and fear is part of the equation; not so full of sadness for everyone involved.
I am looking forward to the holidays at home; but not in a naive sense.

For the Want of a Nail

2006-10-15T18:31:00.000-07:00

I've been wrong
I had plans so big
But the devil's in the details
I left out one thing...

No one to love me,
and no one to love.

Loneliness is perhaps an eternal thing...especially when your identity is in transition...and mine is never out of it.

In Beantown

2006-09-05T20:50:00.000-07:00

So I finally made up my mind and now I'm in Brighton, MA crashing on a couch with two very awesome friends of Sam Kendall (family friend). My housing fell through and now I'm running between Cambridge and Beacon Hill looking for a studio or bedroom in a house close to Harvard/the Redline T.

Provincetown was basically Disneyland for queers. Tod and I talked about it afterwards (when he saved me from a rather tramatic day), and we both agreed that there is an element of non-reality to the folks we met there. I mean being GL (there was a severe lacking in the B and T department) was THE focus of Ptown and people didn't seem to have other lives outside of queerdom which was kind of unsettling. But I had a fabulous time chilling, talking and clubbing with James and Tod. I also got to meet Linda, James's former roommate who is now a lecturer at Harvard. She offered me a tutor job which is wonderful. She's going to add my name to the Women and Gender Studies grad student list....yay!

I am REALLY grateful for family friends right now...I hope that folks know that if they are ever in a similar bind I will not hesitate to take them in.

The decision to pass up on PSR was seriously one of the hardest I've had to make. With Berkeley I definetly got the queer, intellectual vibes that I was seeking when I visited. But Seminary/Div school-wise I only got them at PSR. Starting all over again is exciting and daunting but it's the first time that I really feel ready.

I'm looking for a therapist to begin the transition process (one of the many) because I feel like the whole Summer my life was on hold and I'm ready to start facing the wind. It's been driving me nuts waiting.

It looks like I'm going to be on Beacon Hill in a studio or a 4BR with three MIT grad students. Option 2 which is also highly likely is being in the dorm at EDS with a meal plan and a ton of queer seminarian women. I think both are great options.

Anyway that's the update as of now...loving Boston. People have a bit of a harder edge....but it's cool.

First thoughts

2006-04-22T17:54:00.000-07:00

Next year will be interesting...New faces (older ones), New city, far from home. I wonder how anyone can transition without the support network of close friends, a significant other or family members. Building a new community while simultaneously grappling with how far I want to take gender identity issues will be interesting.

That is the advantage of going to PSR. Amy will be there and even though I know she's apprehensive about my eagerness to transition, I know she's got my back. The problem is I know my mom is going to have major issues and she'll be an hour away. I agree that it'd be safer to transition in New York rather then Boston, but HDS has all of the classes I need/want for Ph.D. work so that's the city I'm going to land in...if I go.

The other thing is the Bay Area has a very visible trans community, but I feel weird approaching it having been out as a woman oriented woman (a.k.a. lesbian) to my trans friends. (Actually I never really have been officially out as a lesbian, simply because I've never been comfortable with the term since I don't really identify as female, but no one's ever asked) And everyone knows me by the name I want to leave behind next year.

Finding housing in Somerville/Cambridge is a pain in the butt. Balancing everything on my gender identity confusion and vocation makes a clear decision (although I know it'll never really be clear) far harder. People ask me where I want to be in three years and I all I want to tell them is more like me. Heading where I need to go to be the person I am, encompassing all aspects of who I am; intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, physically want to have a stronger sense of independence by the end of three years. And I want to come out to my parents (for the second time) when I am at a place where I feel sure and ok with what I shall become.

Having spent time on the internet learning about counseling, hormone treatments, surgeries, activism and support groups...I'm excited about the future...and completely terrified. Will anyone really love me once my body starts to represent who I've always felt I am?