What Vast New Expanse To Chart Now?

Every woman I know who has completed their transition from male to female has described the beginning of a new chapter in their life.   For months and even years, the very act of transition consumed immense effort in not only surviving but retaining any semblance of control behind the wheel.  Having transitioned myself, I’d even argue that it seemed at times where there was no one behind the wheel.   And perhaps transition can even be seen as being teleported through time and space, having the very atoms that comprise your soul and body split apart hopefully to be reassembled this time in perfect order.
If only life was so perfect. But change turned out to be good, and I’m glad I materialized on the other side of the teleporter in a wholly unique and new fashion.

Now I stand where so many of my friends have stood, at the end of the road I chose when I first stood at the Crossroads.   “Where to?” I ask myself.  I fear and wonder if anything else will happen in my life that will cause me to exhaust my last ounces of strength.  After all, cancer and a host of other health issues run in my family and I’m not always going to be in great health.   I can only hope that if such an ailment bewitches me that I will have learned to tap that powerful force that I never knew existed until I stepped out for the first time as my authentic self.

Life is relatively mundane for me right now.  I’m not complaining.  Finding rest along the way was absolutely critical for my success.  Learning to appreciate no pain is just as empowering as reeling from emotional and physical pain.  Remember what it feels like to have a splitting headache?  If you don’t have one at this moment, you smile and thank whatever Maker you believe in…or you pick up your Chihuahua and kiss her cold little nose at the very least.

I’m excited about the future, even though I don’t know what direction to take.  I’m also scared as hell.

I guess that means I’m as normal as the rest of y’all.

The Forgiveness Card

When I came out as a transsexual woman three years ago, I wasn’t sure what to expect from those closest to me.  After all, I’d done essentially everything possible to keep it hidden from them for 36 years.  As a child, I feared being called a “maricon,” a “joto,” or even “faggot.”  The expectations placed on hispanic males in the 70′s demanded they be a man’s man, a macho vato, and he had to be straight as a nail.   Meanwhile, my young spirit began to decay even then I cried at night that God would turn me into a girl by morning.

Looking back over the last few years, I count my blessings, especially when compared to others, concerning acceptance and support from friends, coworkers, and especially family.  My mother, though initially stricken with her own feelings of guilt as if she’d done something wrong to “cause this,” came through the other side of this accepting me with the same loving spirit she’s always had.  And many other close relatives followed suit.  Transition is never easy on anyone.  Believe me, I knew this was hard for those around me to swallow; it was even harder for me to have to be the one to step out at the precipice and trust that God’s invisible hand would be there after all to catch me when I leaped.

And He did.  His hand, his fingers, were made up of the very fibers of love of those who cared about me.

I’m proud to live authentically and embrace who I am now.  Life is by no means any easier than it was three years ago.  But I have a resilience and strength to face new challenges that I never had before.  Time and time again I feel God’s strength renewing me and lifting me up for another sprint down a never before seen road.

But I feel bumps in the road at this juncture in my life.  Just when you think you’ve upgraded your shocks a jagged rock slams into your tire and you feel the pressure reverberate through the center of your core.

So it is with being T.  I often wonder if some of the people who verbally showered me with love and support were doing so with ulterior motives.  I don’t know their hearts and I don’t think I care to.  But there are times, times when I’m at my most vulnerable and stumble very, very hard, when it seems like I’ve used up The Forgiveness Card.

The Forgiveness Card is a term I’ve made up to represent a point where someone finally grows tired of supporting someone, and looks for and uses the smallest excuse to spew and vent their frustrations upon the person who needed forgiveness.

I need forgiveness, over and over again.  You see I’ve taken many chances, calculated ones in my book, but chances nevertheless to finally get past the internal terror that so few but those like me truly understand.   I was locked into that deep, dark prison cell and needed to risk it all so all could eventually survive.  It really was about remaining alive.

People seemed to eventually understand my need for transition.  They eventually saw the scared little girl inside me after I revealed my heart like an open book for the world to see.  I took a chance.  I needed others by my side.

There came a point, though, where it seems that they grew tired of having to deal with my “issue” for whatever reason.  Maybe I reached out too much.  Maybe I cried one too many times in front of the little lens on my Macbook.  Maybe they just tired of transitioning with me.

Like I said before, I need forgiveness a lot.  I’m only human and I’m prone to making big fucking mistakes.  Especially since I’m relearning how to live my life as a woman.   When I’m called on the carpet for being an asshole, I usually swallow my pride and seek forgiveness from those I hurt.   I’ve known hurt for much too long to have any desire to hurt others around me, especially those who’ve loved me through this storm.

But I now wonder if some people threw down their last Forgiveness Card for me.  Maybe there’s no forgiveness left.

The words of apologies now worthless,

The actions of doing what’s right, meaningless.

The Forgiveness Card has been used up.   “You’re on your own, buddy.”

Thank God my God is a faithful God to whose forgiveness is as far and wide as the east from the west.